![]() ![]() "What happened to Dalarn was." Marion's eyes cast aside briefly as if she were hiding back a reaction to having learned a loved one died, a tear almost forming in the corner of one eye. "Things could have been a lot worse, Ma'am." With all that she had suffered and accomplished, it was easy to forget that was just a teenager, not even existing for 2 decades of life. The girls features and tone softened noticeably. All within the past few years while she was subsisting her survival in Lordaeron as ghouls and necromancers prowled the land. Her father? Dead, his title now hers as the sole living heir. Her family were all gone, consumed by the Scourge like so many others. The mixed attitude upon the girls features hinted at a deeper intention: she was the only Mordis left. Though easy to infer as an arrogant demand, some uppity and smug girl wanting to hear words of affirmation heaped upon her to smooth whatever grasping ego kept her animated, the truth was otherwise. "It's Baroness, now," Marion stated flatly. The Lady Protector of Theramore mentioned your name in a discussion some time ago, and I was quite surprised - and now here you are, surprising us all again, earning a place in such circles." Mordis - I don't think either of us expected such an encounter.But then, a great many unforeseen things have happened since then and now. What point was there in continuing to grasp the hot coal of spite? A nameless corpse-slave of the Lich King? A dutiful necromancer in his service? A benighted refugee who was at the tender mercies of those that needed convincing to take her in? Though undignified and harsh as the circumstances had been for her after being ejected from the wizardly academy, the grisly fate that awaited an unfortunately large number of pupils of Dalaran in the wake of the Scourge Invasion suggested that perhaps her expulsion was a blessing in disguise. ![]() Had she been spared the rod of banishment, had she been allowed to remain at Dalaran well.who knows where she would be today. Though for one considerably older than Marion the passage of 3-4 years was nothing, for her that represented almost half of her conscious life. Modera would not have known it at the time, but her decision had tainted Marion in her own parents eyes and had condemned her to years of unspeakable hardships in the wilderness of Lordaeron where the girl survived the Scourge. One of the main voices of such a deathknell was the woman standing before her, a member of the tribunal that had ultimately decided her fate.in more ways than anyone knew at time. She had been an unwise, curious cat drawn to the exotic and novel - just a child, really, not even old enough to buy herself an ale, yet old enough to be to receive a career-destroying banishment. ![]() On one hand, she stood before one of the archmages that had banished her from Dalaran, who had once held her academic career in her hands and had decided to grasp and grip until the innards burst from within. It would be easy for Marion to act one way or another. don't intoxicate, per chance? Such a rare opportunity this is. Do you happen to have any unique drinks that. "You must be from Pandaria, correct? A pleasure to meet you. And perhaps, with some talk and questions, she may have further reason to hang around. The trick would be not getting utterly smashed. In any case, this bar might be a good place to set up shop, with so many coming and going. And yet, she managed to find her manners and stop staring. Oddly enough, the picture she had in her mind was so uncannily different from what was before her. She didn't think she ever met a Pandaran before, though she had certainly heard and read about them. The two approached the bar, and Isaera gave the Pandaran a long and appraising look as she walked up. "Well, I'm getting something to drink," Emilia said. Perhaps people would open up later, but it feels like that would take one hell of an icebreaker. ![]() This really drove home the fact that it was all not just niceties here and there were important people conducting important business. Surveying the "ballroom", the separation of all the factions was quite noticeable. Her hair is left to flow freely for the most part, though the delicate white flower is again tucked into one side and braided in, accenting one of the ears poking through her hair. Something more traditional, or a family keepsake perhaps? However, after being brought to private rooms, she eventually emerges in her stunning and shimmering, sheer orange ensemble. It seemed she was attending the ball in a somewhat older but pretty dress. Isaera selects a white flower to pin into her hair. ![]()
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