07-07-2012, 01:08 AM
(Note: My apologies, RL and distractions made this rez post only get finished -now-. The actual rez and death was something like 3 months ago. Short and long term effects are listed as per courtesy of the post, barely any of them are still active.)
Frozen winds cut down from in between the hills on the higher ledges of the Storm Peaks. As usual, the Coldwind Camp was in a silence that was beaten to a pulp by the howling and whistling wind. Snow beat down on the tents, and dwarves of the Coldwind Expeditions slowly pushed their way through knee-deep piles of snow to try and keep the camp from blowing off the side of the cliff. The largest tent, a command tent, rested in a small alcove which just barely guarded it from the fierce force of the Storm Peaks.
Within the canvas coverings of the tent was a large bonfire, the flames crackling and filling the inside of the tent. Near to the bonfire sat an old dwarf in his grayed robes. This was Grenalin Coldwind, Chief Explorer of the Coldwind Expeditions. He knew these snowy storms well. They threatened each night to toss their feeble little camp, a scar on the mountainside, off the side and to a grim demise in the lands below. But these peaks were fighting against dwarves. Hardened folk of the mountains, this blizzard was but a step above the storms of Dun Morogh, their cold homeland. The Storm Peaks would not outfight any dwarves – especially the Coldwind dwarves.
Grenalin wished he could join his associates outside in the managing of the camp, but ever since he had been risen from the dead, his arms were weakened. He had to cover them with leather and iron of all forms to make braces, to aid him with some more common things that his arms were too weak to handle. The old dwarf looked down at his braces, and brought his hands up to his face. That day. The day he died, it was like hell on earth. A heroic battle, admittedly one that he was proud to be a part of, but an inhuman amount of harm was dealt to the villain that day. Yet every time she just threw another blast out at the gathered heroes. They eventually won, but at a cost. The blasts had been too much for him, and he fell to the darkness of death with his friend Cristovao di Silvio's hand clasped in his own.
Grenalin moved his hands down to his lap, and stared into the fire. His sight turned into a daydreaming – if you could call it that, at near two in the morning – vision, and he saw again the day he was brought back from the Light's hallowed halls.
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The Draenei siblings Kapre and Diwaata stood in a small circle with Cristovao di Silvio and two other men as the procession approached in a large chamber of the Exodar. At the center of the procession, held by the shamans, was the lifeless body of Grenalin Coldwind. As they approached, Kapre's attention turned to the procession. He nodded. “Then we shall seat around the body.” He looked to the two other men. “Will you two be joining us?”
Cristovao di Silvio looked dearly to his lifeless friend, and then back to Kapre with a furrow of his brows. “...they're just watching, Kapre.”
The procession finally reached the group, and slowly they lowered Grenalin's body to the ground. The shamans stepped back and humbly bowed, letting the rest be dealt with by the party at present.
Cristovao sat himself by his friend. “Don't be beyond the veil yet, buddy...” He said with a slight frown. He looked at Kapre and Diwaata. “Ready?”
“...How much was the moth?” One of the two men spoke, and for a moment the three surrounding the fallen dwarf stared at him with utter confusion. Diwaata and Kapre seated around Grenalin and both nodded.
The other man of the two stepped back, clearing his throat. “Just the tip.”
Kapre's lips morphed as he spoke in the Draenic language. “The Totems, Sister.” Diwaata nodded to him.
Cristovao looked at the two draenei shamans, and nodded slowly. “I'll begin, then. A beseeching prayer...” He folded his hands and lowered his head, murmuring quietly. A glow emanated from his hands.
The better-dressed man kept his eyes on Diwaata, the stray flicker to the men notwithstanding.
Cristovao's prayers echoed slightly in the open hall. “O holy Light of creation, please answer my call on behalf of the soul before my eyes... Let your radiance guide him back to the domain of the living...” He continued praying as he nodded to Kapre to begin praying for Grenalin's soul and Diwaata for Grenalin's body.
Diwaata closed her eyes as she held her hands out, her tone echoing as the totems emitted energy from the elements around them. “Highest Spirits of the Elements, if you all would hear my plea to allow this man to breath again, to house the spirit of the departed, that the one that once came to be from the Earth rises again.”
Kapre took his own turn in praying, shivering this time as he breaks into a sweat. “Hallowed Ancestors, I beseech upon the departed that the one that passed from this dwarf return from the beyond and back to this earth.”
Diwaata then brought her mind to use the energy of the water totem to guide a healing stream onto Grenalin.
Cristovao rose to his feet as he channeled the Light in his hands, focusing his will on Grenalin's body. “Let these words be heard, let the soul return and the flesh be restored, and let the Light of creation see it fit to restore life to this fallen man.”
Grenalin's body seemed to glow a bit with the healing powers being pushed into his body.
Cristovao's legs dropped him to a kneel. “Let creation's will be done...”
Kapre held his hands forward as translucent shades appeared next to Grenalin as they guided his spirit back to the body.
Grenalin's spirit slowly and steadily rose from the shades and entered his body once more, and he seemed to shape up a moment.
Cristovao finished his prayer and observed Grenalin's body, waiting for what could happen next... He fell silent with a light frown.
Diwaata opened her eyes to stare at the risen body. “... is it working?”
“...Perhaps it was his time.” The better-dressed man said bluntly.
Grenalin's body slowly fell to the ground, silent. His chest rose a moment. He then released a hacking cough.
Cristovao paused as he heard Grenalin's cough back to life. “G... Grenalin...?”
Grenalin fell back to the rug, coughing again, opening his eyes only to follow with one long blink.
Cristovao's face brightened up as he blurted out “... My friend! You're alive again!” He did not mind at all the weakened dwarf and leaned down to wrap him in a hug.
Grenalin grunted a little at the suddenhug. “Oi... Feck... Wot... Och...” He resigned himself to the hug, too weak to really do much else.
Diwaata's lips curled into a smile as well. “Wonderful! Now to kick up the healing...”
Cristovao released Grenalin from the 'light' hug, smile still on his face.
Kapre smiled. “Now I can eat again.”
Cristovao looked at Kapre with furrowed brows as Grenalin lay tired and weary. “... You were fasting just for this?” He looked back at his friend with nothing but a glance after his previous question. “Grenalin! Say something!”
“... I already did...” Grenalin muttered out, groaning slightly as life returned to his limbs. But his arms... Something was wrong. He did not have the will to mention it at the moment, however.
“... That's better!” Cristovao smiled and cheered by raising a fist into the air. “How do you feel?”
Grenalin furrowed his brows, thinking as best he could. He was interrupted by another cough. “Like shite...”
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Short Term:
Due to the nature of his death, the only true short term effects would have to do with general weakness and body aches. He also had trouble eating due to the soreness in his upper body as well, contributing to pain in his organs.
Long term:
It will take some time for his legs to recover from the nature of his death, and so the aches and sores will keep him from walking easily.
Due to the location of his death, and the inhalation of deadly volcanic fumes, Grenalin has found it hard to breath. Eventually his revitalized lungs will clear out the remainder of the fumes, but they have lingered within him for a while, and they intend to stay a while.
Permanent:
Grenalin's arms were the most damaged, from wrist to bicep, and so the nerves and muscles were severely damaged, just beyond repair. He is barely capable of lifting anything even below ten pounds, anything heavier requires he uses his leather and iron braces put together by his allies in Ironforge. However, even with the braces he is still incapable of much physical work, lest the physical pains return and he is sent into a fit of aches.
Killer: Faceless (Kidnapped 4)
Resurrectors: Cristovao, Kapre, Diwaata
Frozen winds cut down from in between the hills on the higher ledges of the Storm Peaks. As usual, the Coldwind Camp was in a silence that was beaten to a pulp by the howling and whistling wind. Snow beat down on the tents, and dwarves of the Coldwind Expeditions slowly pushed their way through knee-deep piles of snow to try and keep the camp from blowing off the side of the cliff. The largest tent, a command tent, rested in a small alcove which just barely guarded it from the fierce force of the Storm Peaks.
Within the canvas coverings of the tent was a large bonfire, the flames crackling and filling the inside of the tent. Near to the bonfire sat an old dwarf in his grayed robes. This was Grenalin Coldwind, Chief Explorer of the Coldwind Expeditions. He knew these snowy storms well. They threatened each night to toss their feeble little camp, a scar on the mountainside, off the side and to a grim demise in the lands below. But these peaks were fighting against dwarves. Hardened folk of the mountains, this blizzard was but a step above the storms of Dun Morogh, their cold homeland. The Storm Peaks would not outfight any dwarves – especially the Coldwind dwarves.
Grenalin wished he could join his associates outside in the managing of the camp, but ever since he had been risen from the dead, his arms were weakened. He had to cover them with leather and iron of all forms to make braces, to aid him with some more common things that his arms were too weak to handle. The old dwarf looked down at his braces, and brought his hands up to his face. That day. The day he died, it was like hell on earth. A heroic battle, admittedly one that he was proud to be a part of, but an inhuman amount of harm was dealt to the villain that day. Yet every time she just threw another blast out at the gathered heroes. They eventually won, but at a cost. The blasts had been too much for him, and he fell to the darkness of death with his friend Cristovao di Silvio's hand clasped in his own.
Grenalin moved his hands down to his lap, and stared into the fire. His sight turned into a daydreaming – if you could call it that, at near two in the morning – vision, and he saw again the day he was brought back from the Light's hallowed halls.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Draenei siblings Kapre and Diwaata stood in a small circle with Cristovao di Silvio and two other men as the procession approached in a large chamber of the Exodar. At the center of the procession, held by the shamans, was the lifeless body of Grenalin Coldwind. As they approached, Kapre's attention turned to the procession. He nodded. “Then we shall seat around the body.” He looked to the two other men. “Will you two be joining us?”
Cristovao di Silvio looked dearly to his lifeless friend, and then back to Kapre with a furrow of his brows. “...they're just watching, Kapre.”
The procession finally reached the group, and slowly they lowered Grenalin's body to the ground. The shamans stepped back and humbly bowed, letting the rest be dealt with by the party at present.
Cristovao sat himself by his friend. “Don't be beyond the veil yet, buddy...” He said with a slight frown. He looked at Kapre and Diwaata. “Ready?”
“...How much was the moth?” One of the two men spoke, and for a moment the three surrounding the fallen dwarf stared at him with utter confusion. Diwaata and Kapre seated around Grenalin and both nodded.
The other man of the two stepped back, clearing his throat. “Just the tip.”
Kapre's lips morphed as he spoke in the Draenic language. “The Totems, Sister.” Diwaata nodded to him.
Cristovao looked at the two draenei shamans, and nodded slowly. “I'll begin, then. A beseeching prayer...” He folded his hands and lowered his head, murmuring quietly. A glow emanated from his hands.
The better-dressed man kept his eyes on Diwaata, the stray flicker to the men notwithstanding.
Cristovao's prayers echoed slightly in the open hall. “O holy Light of creation, please answer my call on behalf of the soul before my eyes... Let your radiance guide him back to the domain of the living...” He continued praying as he nodded to Kapre to begin praying for Grenalin's soul and Diwaata for Grenalin's body.
Diwaata closed her eyes as she held her hands out, her tone echoing as the totems emitted energy from the elements around them. “Highest Spirits of the Elements, if you all would hear my plea to allow this man to breath again, to house the spirit of the departed, that the one that once came to be from the Earth rises again.”
Kapre took his own turn in praying, shivering this time as he breaks into a sweat. “Hallowed Ancestors, I beseech upon the departed that the one that passed from this dwarf return from the beyond and back to this earth.”
Diwaata then brought her mind to use the energy of the water totem to guide a healing stream onto Grenalin.
Cristovao rose to his feet as he channeled the Light in his hands, focusing his will on Grenalin's body. “Let these words be heard, let the soul return and the flesh be restored, and let the Light of creation see it fit to restore life to this fallen man.”
Grenalin's body seemed to glow a bit with the healing powers being pushed into his body.
Cristovao's legs dropped him to a kneel. “Let creation's will be done...”
Kapre held his hands forward as translucent shades appeared next to Grenalin as they guided his spirit back to the body.
Grenalin's spirit slowly and steadily rose from the shades and entered his body once more, and he seemed to shape up a moment.
Cristovao finished his prayer and observed Grenalin's body, waiting for what could happen next... He fell silent with a light frown.
Diwaata opened her eyes to stare at the risen body. “... is it working?”
“...Perhaps it was his time.” The better-dressed man said bluntly.
Grenalin's body slowly fell to the ground, silent. His chest rose a moment. He then released a hacking cough.
Cristovao paused as he heard Grenalin's cough back to life. “G... Grenalin...?”
Grenalin fell back to the rug, coughing again, opening his eyes only to follow with one long blink.
Cristovao's face brightened up as he blurted out “... My friend! You're alive again!” He did not mind at all the weakened dwarf and leaned down to wrap him in a hug.
Grenalin grunted a little at the suddenhug. “Oi... Feck... Wot... Och...” He resigned himself to the hug, too weak to really do much else.
Diwaata's lips curled into a smile as well. “Wonderful! Now to kick up the healing...”
Cristovao released Grenalin from the 'light' hug, smile still on his face.
Kapre smiled. “Now I can eat again.”
Cristovao looked at Kapre with furrowed brows as Grenalin lay tired and weary. “... You were fasting just for this?” He looked back at his friend with nothing but a glance after his previous question. “Grenalin! Say something!”
“... I already did...” Grenalin muttered out, groaning slightly as life returned to his limbs. But his arms... Something was wrong. He did not have the will to mention it at the moment, however.
“... That's better!” Cristovao smiled and cheered by raising a fist into the air. “How do you feel?”
Grenalin furrowed his brows, thinking as best he could. He was interrupted by another cough. “Like shite...”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Short Term:
Due to the nature of his death, the only true short term effects would have to do with general weakness and body aches. He also had trouble eating due to the soreness in his upper body as well, contributing to pain in his organs.
Long term:
It will take some time for his legs to recover from the nature of his death, and so the aches and sores will keep him from walking easily.
Due to the location of his death, and the inhalation of deadly volcanic fumes, Grenalin has found it hard to breath. Eventually his revitalized lungs will clear out the remainder of the fumes, but they have lingered within him for a while, and they intend to stay a while.
Permanent:
Grenalin's arms were the most damaged, from wrist to bicep, and so the nerves and muscles were severely damaged, just beyond repair. He is barely capable of lifting anything even below ten pounds, anything heavier requires he uses his leather and iron braces put together by his allies in Ironforge. However, even with the braces he is still incapable of much physical work, lest the physical pains return and he is sent into a fit of aches.
Killer: Faceless (Kidnapped 4)
Resurrectors: Cristovao, Kapre, Diwaata