eighth rune; frost; video

[deadelfwalking]

[Koltira's at his lake, sitting cross-legged in its center, on a platform of pure, glittering frost. Byfrost, his runeblade, is stuck in the ice beside him, glowing darkly--a black miasma crawls and leaps around the sword throughout this transmission, though it doesn't seem to bother Koltira much. Rather, his attention is fully fixed on the tablet, which he holds up with one gloved hand. He's wearing a black, high-collared shirt with long sleeves; no armor at all is visible. A collection of glass bottles, most of them empty, surrounds him.

It's been about a month since his blood frenzy, and several weeks since he and a few of the others handled Arthas. Aside from his night out with Bariyan for New Year's Eve, Koltira has tried to seclude himself from the population of the island, and definitely tried not to talk about all the terrible things that happened during his frenzy.

He is a creature of guilt and despair even at the best of times, but this most recent go-round on the misery carousel has left him deeper in darkness than ever before. He's decided that he needs to offer some apologies. Some explanations.]

Before I speak to you of the true matter at hand, I wish to thank those of you who assisted in dealing with Arthas and rescuing the Lady Proudmoore. Though he escaped, it will likely be some time before he is strong enough to trouble us again.

[He pauses. His expression, which had been entirely stoic, turns downcast.]

Important as that is, however, it's not why I'm talking to you. I mean to apologize for my actions of some weeks ago, especially to those unfortunate enough to encounter me in the forest. I am so terribly sorry for the harm I caused. I was not in full control of my faculties--that is why I tried to issue a warning.

[He shifts in position slightly, so as to pick up one of the fuller bottles and take a fortifying drink. All right. Pressing on.]

As some of you know, I am a death knight, of a world called Azeroth. I was killed, and then my raising into undeath was ordered by Arthas himself. My body is the product of the worst kind of necromancy, and the curses that bind me together extend beyond the flesh. All of my kind are subject to constant pain; barely tolerable to living senses even at its lowest levels. We were designed, quite literally, to be killing machines in the service of the Lich King--a name that Arthas has taken now, and that he will indeed eventually become.

[Another pause, another drink. This part of the explanation is his least favorite, but he knows he must tell it, in the interest of honor and transparency.]

Our essential curse is this: the longer we--the longer I--go without inflicting suffering on another living creature, the more we suffer in turn. If enough time passes, we fall into madness. We think of nothing but blood. Seeking it. Spilling it. Our pain becomes excruciating. Unbearable, wracking spasms.

I fight against this every day, as do all my brothers and sisters in death. But it is not easy, and I occasionally fail.

[He winces even as he talks. Almost through it.]

Again ... I am sorry for the pain I've caused. In the interests of the city, both yourselves and the general population, I've left the apartments. I shall remain here, and I shall limit my time among you, save as I must come and go in service of your protection against other threats.

It is all I can do.

[He's quiet for a moment, staring down at the ice. That's all, right? That's all he can say, he thinks. He ends the transmission.]

Comments

video + text.

[combats]

[ Okay, he's figured out you can do video and write text at the same time! So that's what he does, turning on the camera to a sympathetic and sincere expression. ]

i am sorry, koltira.
you are a good man, you do not deserve such a thing.

[deadelfwalking]

That's kind of you to say, Jacquese ... but I have done many things that are not befitting of a good man.

[combats]

if you were not, you would not have spoken so openly about it.
good men make mistakes or are forced to do things that may not always be considered good too.

[deadelfwalking]

A generous mindset. I think not all of the people here share it, however.

[combats]

unless they have gone through the same experiences you have, i do not think they have a right to judge.

[deadelfwalking]

[he smiles weakly.] My friend, when has that ever stopped anyone?

[combats]

[ His shoulders sag and he tilts his head to one side, smiling wryly. ]

true enough.
but please do not punish yourself so, is the curse not enough?

[deadelfwalking]

Perhaps. But it's easier said than done. I have done enough here for a lifetime of penance--and enough when I was in service to the Lich King for many more lifetimes than that.

[combats]

do not put all the blame on yourself when such blame is not due.
you carry enough of a burden as it is.

it looks like you have many who care about you, i am sure they do not want to see you heavy with so much guilt.

[deadelfwalking]

[frustrated.]

It is due; it's more than due. These people and their concern ... their pity. They would be better off despising me.

[combats]

[ he sighs, the only audible noise he can really make. ]

perhaps. but that is for them to decide.
you cannot control how others feel and i think it is more sympathy than pity.