Diary: Page Four
Mar. 4th, 2006 03:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shosenStormgarde Keep is...
I should have known. After all, even the University wasn’t welcome for a trip in Stormwind, why had I not realised the same would be true for Stormgarde? Or would be, if the kingdom still stood.
It’s a ruin. Crumbling buildings overrun by Ogres and villains, a small band of hold outs all that’s left of what it once was.
I can still remember the stories my mother told. Her hopes, dreams, ideals, her perfect world, all symbolised in a tall, proud Keep, and the people who reigned within.
My past is a crumbled ruin.
I think I understand it now, the need the Forsaken have to cling to old buildings and to our symbols of death. I wanted, for a moment, to lie down and fall to ruin with it.
I never said good-bye, not really. I left so long ago, but seeing it for the first time, and to have it be like that, it hurt. I expected it to be the Keep of my mother’s stories, the symbol of her dreams. I expected it to always be there.
When the Field Trip was first announced, I toyed with the idea of trying to find my parent’s farm. I’d avoided doing so while saying in Hammerfall. Now, now I don’t want to even try.
I want it to live in my memory, prosperous and vibrant. I want to think of my mother hosting parties in her elegant dresses, my father smiling indulgently as he pretends for her sake to be something he’s not. I want to keep believing that my leaving and the passing of time have had no effect on their world.
Finding the area, when the farm cannot possibly still be there, it would be like seeing my face in the mirror, or approaching the Gates of Stormgarde today.
I want to keep at least one foolish illusion. Surely that’s not too much to ask?
I should have known. After all, even the University wasn’t welcome for a trip in Stormwind, why had I not realised the same would be true for Stormgarde? Or would be, if the kingdom still stood.
It’s a ruin. Crumbling buildings overrun by Ogres and villains, a small band of hold outs all that’s left of what it once was.
I can still remember the stories my mother told. Her hopes, dreams, ideals, her perfect world, all symbolised in a tall, proud Keep, and the people who reigned within.
My past is a crumbled ruin.
I think I understand it now, the need the Forsaken have to cling to old buildings and to our symbols of death. I wanted, for a moment, to lie down and fall to ruin with it.
I never said good-bye, not really. I left so long ago, but seeing it for the first time, and to have it be like that, it hurt. I expected it to be the Keep of my mother’s stories, the symbol of her dreams. I expected it to always be there.
When the Field Trip was first announced, I toyed with the idea of trying to find my parent’s farm. I’d avoided doing so while saying in Hammerfall. Now, now I don’t want to even try.
I want it to live in my memory, prosperous and vibrant. I want to think of my mother hosting parties in her elegant dresses, my father smiling indulgently as he pretends for her sake to be something he’s not. I want to keep believing that my leaving and the passing of time have had no effect on their world.
Finding the area, when the farm cannot possibly still be there, it would be like seeing my face in the mirror, or approaching the Gates of Stormgarde today.
I want to keep at least one foolish illusion. Surely that’s not too much to ask?