The end of a saga
Well, our guild decided to go into "inactive" status. I guess I had the poet in me or something came up so I decided to write about it
Morganne walked through the halls of her guild. Her footsteps echo through what once used to be bustling with guildies preparing for their daily journeys. Now, the halls lie empty. Only the occasional peep of a younger guildie wanders about, hurrying their way through the cob-webbed halls. She sighed and continued to walk to the meeting room ahead.
She entered the grand meeting hall with a sigh. She looked around the large room decorated with the guild banner and relics of their long victories from both Azeroth and the Outlands. The meeting hall, once used to plan the guilds great adventures, seemed dismally quiet. The only sounds were the cough from one of the four people sitting at the dusty oaken table in the center. They stood all at once and bowed.
She sat down at her chair and the others sat down across from her. Not a minute later, a steward sets several mugs of Dark Dwarven Ale in front of the concerned guild leader. She nods to the steward and takes a quick gulp of the first mug. “Ahh. I wish this was more refreshing considering the circumstances.” she announced while holding her mug into the air. She sat down the mug before crossing her hands in a thoughtful composure. “Well, I have called you here because of the situation we are in. I think it is time to debate the path of the guild at this critical structure.”
One of the members stood up. Her rustic druidic leather armor matched her short green hair tied in a little pony tail in the rear. “As you well know, we have lost many of our main guild members. Be it from other guilds hailing the call, lost in battle, or decided to hang their shield. Alas,” she began to walk around the hall, “it has left us with little left. We can barely sustain ourselves. Our coffers run dry, and our guild bank has depleted with the except of a few nuggets of copper. We have little hearty members to even assault Karazhan!” Sylandra tried to hide the look of distress from her face, but the guild leader, knowing her and the other officers for several years, took notice.
“Please sit Syl. No need to go any further.” Morganne issued. Sylandra calmly walked back to her chair and sat down. Morg turned to the human priestess in her white robes, decorated with images of the moon. “What do you think Acha?”
Acha tried to dig her face into her robes in attempt to hide, but the piercing eyes of the others made her attempt fail. She sniffled a little murmur, “I dunno....” A few of the newer guildies, both young and old began to congregate outside the meeting hall, and they idly listened to the conversation, not knowing what the fate will be.
Morganne took another gulp full from the nearest mug. Normally excited in dipping into her personal stash, today, she felt no excitement from it. She turned to the bald headed man in the flowing robes of black, signifying his practice of the demonic arts. As she turned, she sees the gleam of light off his rather glossy bald head. “And you Phaethon? What do you make of this?”
He stood calmly; his look of thoughtful composure filled his face. “Well, it is known that we are dying for a while. The great war against Arthas has taken a toll on the other guilds as well. The war is just simply too far off and many have gotten antsy. But we have to think of our guildies first. Is it wrong for us to open them promises of grandeur when we can no longer offer it? Even as a guild built upon friendship, we cannot help but see that the war has taken too much of a toll on our guild. Many friends want to see beyond what we can do; other guildies are tired of the ways. What can we do? We must think of the guild as a whole.”
Sylandra stood up, wanting to protest, but Morganne held up her gloved hand. Sylandra calmly sat back down. Morganne stood to speak. “Phaethon is right. As much as we want to not believe Phaethon, we have to face reality.” She turned to the few guildies remaining behind her; they backed off a little, trying to hide their sorrowful look in the darkness. She turned back to her officers. “Perhaps it is time to close the doors of Espirito Kindrae. Not permanently, mind you, but till it is time that we are able to once again wear our banner as a guild once again. May not be soon, but, perhaps, when the Stormwind Docks open and we can wage war against the Lich King himself. “ Morganne walked around and looked at the large purple banner hanging from the wall. “I think this is the best we can do for our guildies.” A few gasps came from the remaining guildies at the edge of the hall with hushed murmurs and talk.
Morganne continued to look at the banner on the wall, trying to hide a tear, when the last of the four stood up. The aged dwarf quietly stroked his long white beard covering the banner of another guild on top of his priestly dwarven robes, decorated with the symbols of earth. “I have heard word that Detrimental will be able to harbor some, however I have no guarantees. I must know the number and whom are going.” He turned to the others; Phaethon, Sylandra, and Acha calmly shook their head. He then turned to the guild leader. “And you Morg?”
“No, I shall stay and keep this place in hopes that we return to our former glory.” Morganne answered while she continued to look at the guild banner and the many trophies won from the guilds former glory. A few of the guildies quietly wandered away, knowing they must pack for the journey as well.
“Well then,” Donivan spoke to the others, “it is time to pack and be on our way.” The officers nodded and took their leave. Donivan walked to the silver haired rogue staring at the guild banner and gave her a pat on the back. “Do not worry. Detrimental will take good care of them. And, perhaps, one day we will all be united under the same banner.” Donivan sighed at the lack of response from the depressed guild leader and wandered off.
Morning came too soon as the few guildies left waiting in the courtyard, packed and ready to go. Sylandra quietly mounted her ghostly tiger with her gear on her back; her hair down to hide her face stained with tears. Next to her was Acha, also hiding her shameful face. Phae, with his summoned mount, waited quietly to lead the remaining guildies out of the guild commons. They turned to face the great guild hall doors to see Morganne and Donivan talking quietly to each other. Behind them, a few guildies who chose to remain with the guild leader.
Morganne turned to her ex officers and raised her arms in the air. “Be proud with each other. Do not think that this is the end, but another chapter in our lives! One day, we shall be whole again!” A hurrah cheered from the guildies in the courtyard. She lowered her arms and finished her speech: “Now. Do us proud! Show that EK had the best guildies in the world. Do not stain our name!”
Donivan patted Morganne on the back. “Things will be better in the future. Just you will see.”
“I hope so.” Morganne quietly replied. Donivan walked into the court yard and mounted onto his trusty old ram.
“Let us depart.” Donivan said quietly. He lead the guildies out of the courtyard and onto the main roads towards Stormwind. As they left, Morganne, and the few remaining guildies, turned and walked inside the Guild hall, closing the doors behind them...
Morganne walked through the halls of her guild. Her footsteps echo through what once used to be bustling with guildies preparing for their daily journeys. Now, the halls lie empty. Only the occasional peep of a younger guildie wanders about, hurrying their way through the cob-webbed halls. She sighed and continued to walk to the meeting room ahead.
She entered the grand meeting hall with a sigh. She looked around the large room decorated with the guild banner and relics of their long victories from both Azeroth and the Outlands. The meeting hall, once used to plan the guilds great adventures, seemed dismally quiet. The only sounds were the cough from one of the four people sitting at the dusty oaken table in the center. They stood all at once and bowed.
She sat down at her chair and the others sat down across from her. Not a minute later, a steward sets several mugs of Dark Dwarven Ale in front of the concerned guild leader. She nods to the steward and takes a quick gulp of the first mug. “Ahh. I wish this was more refreshing considering the circumstances.” she announced while holding her mug into the air. She sat down the mug before crossing her hands in a thoughtful composure. “Well, I have called you here because of the situation we are in. I think it is time to debate the path of the guild at this critical structure.”
One of the members stood up. Her rustic druidic leather armor matched her short green hair tied in a little pony tail in the rear. “As you well know, we have lost many of our main guild members. Be it from other guilds hailing the call, lost in battle, or decided to hang their shield. Alas,” she began to walk around the hall, “it has left us with little left. We can barely sustain ourselves. Our coffers run dry, and our guild bank has depleted with the except of a few nuggets of copper. We have little hearty members to even assault Karazhan!” Sylandra tried to hide the look of distress from her face, but the guild leader, knowing her and the other officers for several years, took notice.
“Please sit Syl. No need to go any further.” Morganne issued. Sylandra calmly walked back to her chair and sat down. Morg turned to the human priestess in her white robes, decorated with images of the moon. “What do you think Acha?”
Acha tried to dig her face into her robes in attempt to hide, but the piercing eyes of the others made her attempt fail. She sniffled a little murmur, “I dunno....” A few of the newer guildies, both young and old began to congregate outside the meeting hall, and they idly listened to the conversation, not knowing what the fate will be.
Morganne took another gulp full from the nearest mug. Normally excited in dipping into her personal stash, today, she felt no excitement from it. She turned to the bald headed man in the flowing robes of black, signifying his practice of the demonic arts. As she turned, she sees the gleam of light off his rather glossy bald head. “And you Phaethon? What do you make of this?”
He stood calmly; his look of thoughtful composure filled his face. “Well, it is known that we are dying for a while. The great war against Arthas has taken a toll on the other guilds as well. The war is just simply too far off and many have gotten antsy. But we have to think of our guildies first. Is it wrong for us to open them promises of grandeur when we can no longer offer it? Even as a guild built upon friendship, we cannot help but see that the war has taken too much of a toll on our guild. Many friends want to see beyond what we can do; other guildies are tired of the ways. What can we do? We must think of the guild as a whole.”
Sylandra stood up, wanting to protest, but Morganne held up her gloved hand. Sylandra calmly sat back down. Morganne stood to speak. “Phaethon is right. As much as we want to not believe Phaethon, we have to face reality.” She turned to the few guildies remaining behind her; they backed off a little, trying to hide their sorrowful look in the darkness. She turned back to her officers. “Perhaps it is time to close the doors of Espirito Kindrae. Not permanently, mind you, but till it is time that we are able to once again wear our banner as a guild once again. May not be soon, but, perhaps, when the Stormwind Docks open and we can wage war against the Lich King himself. “ Morganne walked around and looked at the large purple banner hanging from the wall. “I think this is the best we can do for our guildies.” A few gasps came from the remaining guildies at the edge of the hall with hushed murmurs and talk.
Morganne continued to look at the banner on the wall, trying to hide a tear, when the last of the four stood up. The aged dwarf quietly stroked his long white beard covering the banner of another guild on top of his priestly dwarven robes, decorated with the symbols of earth. “I have heard word that Detrimental will be able to harbor some, however I have no guarantees. I must know the number and whom are going.” He turned to the others; Phaethon, Sylandra, and Acha calmly shook their head. He then turned to the guild leader. “And you Morg?”
“No, I shall stay and keep this place in hopes that we return to our former glory.” Morganne answered while she continued to look at the guild banner and the many trophies won from the guilds former glory. A few of the guildies quietly wandered away, knowing they must pack for the journey as well.
“Well then,” Donivan spoke to the others, “it is time to pack and be on our way.” The officers nodded and took their leave. Donivan walked to the silver haired rogue staring at the guild banner and gave her a pat on the back. “Do not worry. Detrimental will take good care of them. And, perhaps, one day we will all be united under the same banner.” Donivan sighed at the lack of response from the depressed guild leader and wandered off.
Morning came too soon as the few guildies left waiting in the courtyard, packed and ready to go. Sylandra quietly mounted her ghostly tiger with her gear on her back; her hair down to hide her face stained with tears. Next to her was Acha, also hiding her shameful face. Phae, with his summoned mount, waited quietly to lead the remaining guildies out of the guild commons. They turned to face the great guild hall doors to see Morganne and Donivan talking quietly to each other. Behind them, a few guildies who chose to remain with the guild leader.
Morganne turned to her ex officers and raised her arms in the air. “Be proud with each other. Do not think that this is the end, but another chapter in our lives! One day, we shall be whole again!” A hurrah cheered from the guildies in the courtyard. She lowered her arms and finished her speech: “Now. Do us proud! Show that EK had the best guildies in the world. Do not stain our name!”
Donivan patted Morganne on the back. “Things will be better in the future. Just you will see.”
“I hope so.” Morganne quietly replied. Donivan walked into the court yard and mounted onto his trusty old ram.
“Let us depart.” Donivan said quietly. He lead the guildies out of the courtyard and onto the main roads towards Stormwind. As they left, Morganne, and the few remaining guildies, turned and walked inside the Guild hall, closing the doors behind them...