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RP Session 1: Where in Radoslaw asks Aroqin too many questions

Kazimierz and I decided to roll two Alliance characters a little while back to join Bloodriver’s up-and-coming Alliance sister guild, Obsidian Phoenix. My character Aroqin is a night elf druid and his character Radoslaw is a human rogue. One night we ended up role-playing a little between them and discovered they have some interesting personalities. Then one day we decided to start role-playing with them outside of the game, using Gtalk. It worked out so well that I’m posting it here for all to enjoy. 🙂

The setting is an evening at the Lakeshire inn in the Redridge Mountains.

With her back to the warm stove in the corner of the inn, Aroqin is stretched out in her cat form across the floor. Her eyes are shut and her limbs are loose and relaxed. Only the occasional twitching of her tail gives away that she may not be completely asleep.

Radoslaw takes his ease in a…less sedate manner, draped oddly over the side of a chair and playing intricate spinning games with one of his daggers. He’s almost hypnotized by the whirling emerald glow, and a silly grin is spreading slowly across his face.

The occasional muttered ‘ouch!’ can be heard, accompanied by the thud of the knife hitting the table.

The druid lazily opens a single glowing eye after one of these mutterings, fixing it on the human. “You must want to make your already short life span shorter, boy,” she mutters with a low rumble in her throat. “And one of these days I’ll decide that it’s not worth it to heal you.”

Radoslaw looks up, his guileless face lacking its customary red bandanna. “It’s only little cuts, Qin, I’m not gettin’ hurt too bad. And it’s fun!”

He snickers a little. “I guess you wouldn’t know much about that, though.”

Qin gives Radoslaw a standard cat-like withering glance, rolling over to face the stove now. “‘Fun’ is a warm fire and some peace and quiet. At least I can get one out of two.”

Totally missing the barely-veiled bard and taking the glare as a matter of course, Radoslaw continues cheerily. “That’s not fun, Qin. That’s comfy-like…although I guess old folks like doing that sort of thing too. How old are ya, anyway?”

She holds up a paw in front of the stove grate, admiring her fully-extended claws in the orange light. “Older than you can count, boy. And what exactly is your idea of ‘fun’ then, other than making yourself bleed?”

Radoslaw sits up a little straighter, adding the other knife to his flipping and twirling. “Well…sneakin’ about’s fun, ‘specially when the worst you’ll get is a broom and some shoutin’ if you’re caught. Playing dice or cards, wrestling with your buddies, swimming in the river and the lake…lots of stuff.” He flips the daggers in the air and misses them both spectacularly, the twin thunks of their landing point-first in the table echoing in the quiet of the inn. “Mostly just doing stuff because it feels good and you like it, instead of some ‘sacred duty’ or because you gotta do it to make a living.”

A wryly smile flashes briefly across Qin’s maw, quickly replaced by boredom. She lets out a large yawn that reveals her brilliant white fangs, her legs stretching out in the air and extending all of her claws. “Sure, I’ll wrestle with you,” she mumbles with disinterest.

Radoslaw finally notices the claws and blinks, worry flashing briefly over his face. “Not all catlike, you aren’t! That’s no fair at all.”

“No?” She queries innocently, ears perking up as she gazes up at him. “Would a bear be more fitting then?”

Actual fear tinges Rado’s eyes, and he stiffens, his hands suddenly still. “No. No bears!”

Her brow creases with worry and regret for a microsecond before she rolls back toward the fire, muscles exuding boredom. “Now who is no fun?” she murmurs.

A moment’s pause, and the young rogue is all cheer again, enthusiastically picking over the black-dyed armor he favors and lovingly repairing any cuts or loose threads. “So Qin…what happen to your armor when you go all fuzzy and catlike?”

She lets out a long loud sigh. “You see, when I’m a night elf and training as a druid, they put all of my animal forms inside me using magic. Then, when I want to shift, I trade my humanoid form for one of the animal ones and my armor goes with it.” She shifts a little, tail twitching. “It’s a little uncomfortable to have leather armor in you at first but you get used to it.”

Radoslaw stares wide-eyed, tilting his head. “But…where does that neat hammer-thing fit in you? It’s all big, and the gear on it moves all the time!”

Qin twists her head around to gaze at him under half-closed eyelids. “Oh, you caught me. Really, all of it goes into the Emerald Dream and I’m completely naked right now.”

Radoslaw drops his knives, eyes wide and jaw slack as he looks over the resting druid with shocked revelation.

An edge of laughter can be heard in her voice as she says, “Try not to stare too much. It will make you go blind.” Her shoulders shake in a silent chuckle as she turns back toward the stove.

He blushes brightly, but doesn’t move to pick up anything for several long moments, still watching with awe. “And you fight in the…the altogether?”

“Real cats and bears do, don’t they?” she says dryly.

“But you’re…a person! Doesn’t that feel strange?” he stammers, fiddling blindly with the needle and heavy thread in front of him.

Shifting to put her back to the fire again, she raises a furry eyebrow at him. “I’m a night elf. We always go running around just as Elune made us.”

Radoslaw stammers and blushes even more, staring with complete shock and visibly bending the needle between his fingers.

“Boy…how long have we been adventuring together and you still have not learnt what the word ‘sarcasm’ means?” She points a single claw to the needle in his hand. “You’re going to stick yourself again.”

Radoslaw looks down and drops the needle quickly, snorting indignantly. “You’re makin’ fun of me again, aren’t you? Just ’cause I’ve never been over the border and don’t know what foreign folks are like, you try to fool me.”

“It’s not my fault that you can’t tell one tone from another and naively assume everyone is telling you the truth,” she hisses with narrowed eyes. “You’re a rogue, lies and deceptions should be your forte. And did you really believe that I would walk around naked in front of you of all people, regardless of what form I’m in?”

He shrugs and fiddles with his knives. “I’m good at hidin’ and sticking knives in things…never said I was good with people. Why’d you think I got so good at sneakin’ around? And I dunno about the second part…my ma always said you people didn’t do things the same way we did.” He pauses, and adds: “‘Course, she said that about a lot of people what seemed pretty normal to me, so maybe there’s not too much to it.”

Qin snorts and lays her head down on the floor. “So now I also have to teach you how to recognize lies. And the lack of armor is just a part of druid magic, boy. Leather is made of skins like ours so it becomes part of our hides, bolstering our natural resilience.” She closes her eyes again, her brow slightly crinkled as she mumbles something about teenage boys and wandering minds.

Rado nods slightly, leaning back into his chair until it balances on two legs, his feet propped on the table. “Well…if it needs fixin’, I’m not a bad hand at patching and needlework.” He eyes the smooth fur of Aroqin’s form critically. “Does it still make it hurt less when it’s in your skin like that? Seems kinda silly to run around fightin’ without some sort of protection.”

The cat druid physically bites back a sarcastic retort, her eyes still closed. “It does dull the pain. It’s just like a layer of leather armor. Just don’t try to mend it while it’s on me or you’re liable to find an angry bear before you.”

Radoslaw nods soberly. “Course I wouldn’t try that, I’m not stupid. Just not all caught up with your…druidy stuff. We don’t have them around here.” The rogue scratches his chin, staring into the fire. “So why’d you come here? Whole world has problems right now, and I’d think you’d want to deal with your own instead of helping us.”

“…You’re not going to let me rest in peace, are you?” Not waiting for a response, she adds, “Like I said, there’s more of us shifters in Teldrassil than you can shake a tree druid at. There are few here…so it seemed like a good idea to go some place where I would be of more use.” She lifts her head up and gives him a toothy grin. “Besides, not many of them appreciate my sense of humor.”

Radoslaw looks back blankly. “I can’t imagine why,” he says, winking exaggeratedly a moment afterward. “I’m not totally in the dark about that sarcasm thing, see?”

She widens her eyes in feigned surprised. “By the white light of Elune, the boy does know how to learn!” She places a paw to her chest. “I…am completely floored.”

Radoslaw snorts, hiding a smile of his own by quickly drawing and throwing both his knives at a knot in the inn’s walls, both striking point-first within inches of the mark. “I learn more than you might think.”

“Oh do tell,” she breathes enthusiastically, perking her darkish ears straight up in the air.

He grins a little, walking to pry the knives out of the wood. “Well…I know you didn’t get that kit you wear from anyone in the Alliance.”

The druid raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “And what makes you think that?”

“Threadwork on it’s all wrong, and the materials are too…kodohide and sinew for the base of the armor, and judging from the smell it gets when it’s wet, the dye is Mulgore blackroot. No mark of craft on it, either, so it’s not from a marketplace that would have access to those kinds of stuff.”

He smiles slightly. “I haven’t been past the borders, but I do know my leatherwork.”

Qin idly watches a beetle scurry between them on the floorboards. “Perhaps I found it on the corpse of a tauren. Or maybe it was in an old chest in a hidden attic, hailing back from the times when the Horde and the Alliance worked together.” She glances up at the human.”Or maybe I won it in a game of strip poker from an old, lonely troll.”

Radoslaw shakes his head. “Not ‘less that dead tauren or troll was your twin…that armor’s tailored, special-like. Someone who could get that stuff made it for you, and no goblin merchant would put out a cuirass without a trade-mark someplace visible.”

The druid glances around nervously, eyeing the innkeeper measuredly until she decided that he’s paying them no attention. Then she sits up, giving a wide-mawed yawn. Padding over casually to the rogue’s chair, she stretches her neck up until she can whisper in his ear. “Don’t tell anyone,” she hissed quietly, “but I’m really an orc in disguise.”  With that, she curls back her lips, bearing her teeth. “See, fangs,” nodding assuredly.

Radoslaw stares for a few long moments, narrowing his eyes, then laughs a little. “You’re fooling with me again, aren’t you?”

In a fluid motion, she shifts back into her humanoid form, standing tall beside him. “What? You don’t believe that I’m a burly orc woman, green skin and all?” She flexes an arm and points at it. “Can’t you see the corded muscles in it?”

Rado chuckles, inspecting the proffered arm and darting wandering glances elsewhere. “Hah, real funny, Qin.”

She sighs softly as she notices his wandering eyes. “You’re not my type, boy. I like them big, furry, and with hooves. There’s a reason this armor is dyed with a root native to Mulgore.” She winks at him slyly.

Radoslaw blushes, then his jaw drops lightly as he tilts his head. “…how…?”

“I have one word for you…’druids’. I think your twisted imagination can figure out the rest on its own.” She flops down in the chair across the table from him, arms and legs thrown over the back and arms of the chair in a distinctly feline manner.

Almost sputtering, Rado avoids her gaze, fiddling distractedly with his knives.

She glances over at the fumbling young human. “For Elune’s sake, Rado, I haven’t bedded with a tauren. They’re nice people and all but…just no, hasn’t happened.”

Radoslaw nods with relief, then pauses for a moment. “Wait…how do you know tauren? We’re at war with the Horde…”

She leans back and rests her head on the table, her short bright green hair brushing against the wood. “I’m a druid, a member of the Cenarion Circle. And so are some of the taurens. And just because some–” She seems to recall where she is with a glance around and bites back her remark. “…Some king thinks that we should go to war with them does not mean that all of us have to participate. I’m a druid first, any alliances come second.”

Propping his head up with an arm, Radoslaw frowns slightly. “What’s this Cenarion Circle group do, then? I’ve never heard a thing about ’em.”

Qin pauses for a moment and then twists around to look wide-eyed at him as she breathes out, “Secret druid stuff. And things.”

Rado sighs and shakes his head, looking at Aroqin with his head titled. “You ever talk straight with people, or is this you all the time?”

“Hey, when you’re centuries old, you find that there are only a few things in life that entertain you throughout the years. This is one of them.” She quickly twists around so that she’s crouched on the chair, her chin resting on her hands gripping the table. “Don’t take away my one source of happiness!” she pleads melodramatically.

Blinking, Radoslaw leans back, chuckling lightly. “All right, Qin, you win.”

In a bat of an eye, she’s relaxed and bored once again. “Of course I win. I’m female,” she states matter-a-factly. “Anyways, the Cenarion Circle is a group of druids dedicated to protecting nature and repairing the damage caused by evil forces. Any war between the Alliance and Horde is meaningless to us, except when we have to come in and clean up after you folks.”

Radoslaw nods slowly, taking in the information and not so much as batting an eyelid at the druid’s apparent mood shifts. “So…I take it you have a lot of people in Lordaeron, then?”

She pauses again for a long moment. “I wouldn’t be here if we did, boy,” she says in a low voice.

Rado blinks and edges a little away. “Something…happen to you up in the Plaguelands?”

“You don’t have to talk about it if it bothers you, ma’am, but it sounds like something’s up, and sometimes sharing helps,” he offers quietly.

She blinks earnestly at him. “What makes you think I had anything to do with the Plaguelands?”

“You…said if the Circle had lots of folk up in Lordaeron, you wouldn’t be here…”

“The people still living in Lordaeron…well, as living as they can be there…don’t quite like an Alliance, regardless of whether they’re a druid or not. They only just tolerate the tauren druids. They seem to like being as they are.” She sighs softly. “Which is a shame. It was quite the city.”

Radoslaw nods quietly, staring down at the table. “It was a grand place, they said…”

She claps her hands together loudly, sitting up straight “What’s done is done and no one wants a clean-up crew. So…here I am.” She glances at Radoslaw, adding dryly, “Spending my evening with a teenage boy. How far I have come in this life.”

Grinning, Rado gives her a thumbs-up. “Damn straight you’ve come far. You must be happy I found you!”

The night elf stares deadpanned at him. “Completely. Thrilled. Barkeep, can I have a drink? Something really strong…something dwarven.” She flips a coin to the barkeeper and watches him rummage around behind the counter.

Completely missing the sarcasm, Radoslaw likewise waves for the bartender, gulping down local ale with obvious relish. “You like dwarven stuff, huh? I thought elves were supposed to go for wine and mead and dewdrops, that sort of thing,” he asks after downing his third mug, slurring slightly over his normal drawl.

“Oooooh, the dwarven stock has taken a special place in my heart lately,” she mutters over her half-full second mug, nursing this one whereas she downed the first. “Besides dewdrops are overrated. After about the twelfth one, it tastes like you’ve eaten a whole haystack.”

Radoslaw nods, only slightly unsteady. “You should try cutting and baling hay…why do you think this stuff tastes so strong? Nothing else gets the taste of twelve hours’ worth of dust and chaff out of your mouth…”

She eyes the empty glasses sitting next to his elbow. “Except drinking until you can’t taste or feel anything any more?”

“Mmm-hmmm…nothing quite like it…” Rado mumbles, setting the fourth mug next to the others. “I think I’ll have another one…we’re rich in the service to king and country, after all,” he adds, swaying gently in his chair.

“If you have too many of those and I have to drag you to your room, I’m doing it as a bear and I can’t guarantee I’ll be gentle with you.” She takes a long sip from her mug and adds nonchalantly, “Or that you’ll be in one piece when you get there. Bears are clumsy, you know.”

Radoslaw weighs the words carefully, finally nodding and putting the coins back in his pack. “I…guess I’ve had enough, then…don’t want a headache in the morning.” He yawns sleepily and brushes a hand over his eyes. “Mmm…what’re we doing tomorrow, anyway?”

“I think you mean tonight, boy.” She rises and takes a step forward, smoothly transitioning into her lithe cat form before her other foot touches the ground. “There are Blackrock orcs up in that fortress and if we want to sneak in to kill their leader, we had best do it under the dark of night.”

Radoslaw blinks at the unpleasant realization and rises somewhat unsteadily to his feet. “Well…this isn’t gonna be fun. Why’d you let me drink that much if we were workin’ tonight?”

She sits down before him, head tilted to the side as she eyes him critically. “Well, I thought a good ol’ farm boy like you could take more than a couple a’ drinks,” she comments, mimicking his drawl.

He chuckles, visibly steadying as he buckles on his own black-dyed armor, eschewing the bandanna while still in a civilized area. “Well…you guessed right, but it’s a waste of a good buzz in any case.”

She grumbles low in her throat, spinning about and dashing out the door. “Let’s see how sober you are, boy!” she shouts over her shoulder.

Grinning, Radoslaw pulls the last strap tight and follows, sprinting with practiced vigor to follow.