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Poster: Lyrikae at 6/15/2006 10:09:16 PM PDT
Subject: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
   ((

Hello readers, CM's and players alike. My name is Lyrikae, from the pvprp realm of Maelstrom. I am lucky enough to have attained the rank of Grand Marshal on that server, and unlucky enough to have had all my equipment stolen/destroyed/de'd by a hacker. I have initiated the proper procedures for restoral, but find myself bored in the meantime. Perhaps a CM would be so kind as to comment on where I'm at in that process?

I will freely admit -- and give credit to -- that Spiritwolf's accounting of his own problem, and how he handled it, inspired me to do this. I don't have nearly the skill required to do what he did with the cartoons, but, since I'm from an rp realm, I thought this would be a nice way to contribute while waiting on my restoral.

Thanks for your time, and enjoy!

))

Lyrikae slowly sits up from her prone position on the hard, wooden floor of the Gilded Rose Inn in Stormwind. A grimace crosses her face as she raises a hand to her head and rubs her temple gently. She frowns.

What...what am I doing here? I blink my eyes slowly as I look around the crowded room. The low murmuring of customers talking vies with the sounds of a muted violin lost in the murk, mugs slamming on tables, and somewhere, a bar maid's squealing as some customer no doubt gropes her in a stupor-driven profession of true love forever. Slowly, my eyes focus, the blur of people and objects in the room solidifying one by one, as if my brain is being careful, unwilling to overwhelm me too quickly with visual input. There, a mighty warrior who really should remove his armor while drinking, and there, just there, another of my kind, a slim Elf, tall, graceful, even as she sits in her chair, laughing at some joke delivered by a massively built dwarf, who seems to be one of the main contributors to the mug-slamming sounds in the room.

Smells from the kitchen, of cooking meat and baking bread, waft out through a wide doorway some few feet away, also co-mingling with the scents of unwashed bodies, spilt beer, leather, and, somewhere within the busy room, someone had vomited.

Lyrikae scoots her back against a nearby wall, the sudden movement contorting her face into another frown. She bites her lower lip and lowers her head for a moment, breathing deeply. She plants her feet and slowly pushes herself up the wall to a standing position

I turn to the wall and place my forehead against the cool boards for a moment, closing my eyes as a wave of nausea washes over me. I raise my hand to the back of my head, and feel the wetness there.

I don't need to look at it. I can smell what it is. Blood.

I brace myself and push away from the wall, turning to face the room once more. I feel lighter, almost...naked. I look down at myself and feel my eyes widen as I realize that I have been divested of my armor and weapons -- items I had been awarded as I clawed my way up through the ranks of the Stormwind Army. My jaw drops.

I had thought my fighting days over, when I reached the pinnacle of my career: Grand Marshal Lyrikae, one of the supreme commanders of the Stormwind Army. I thought, perhaps, to retire to my distant home in Maelstra's Post -- a place long ago left behind as I took up arms against the Horde and those who had harmed my family. I thought....

A slight frown flitters across my face as I realize that I have lost my line of thought...what was...

I shake my head slightly -- and regrettably, as even that slight motion sends ripples through the waves of my nausea. I place my hand on the wall once more, and wait it out.

Innkeeper Allison, a full-figured woman in an apron appears in the doorway to the kitchen, surveying the room for a moment before turning her head towards Lyrikae. She blinks for a moment, and then glares, placing her hands on her hips, just long enough for anyone looking at her to know well enough to leave her alone as she made her way towards the sickly Elven girl

"I knew it! I knew I should have told those boys exactly what to to do with you. Probably couldn't wait to get back to their mugs, dumped you on the floor. Well. We'll just see about that!!"

It takes me a moment to realize that the human woman is talking to me, and the thick fog in my head still precludes anything like understanding. I have no idea what she's talking about, but I peer blearily at her from lowered eyes. I open my mouth to say something in response, but don't get a chance as the woman gently takes my arm in hand and pulls me over to a chair that is, unfortunately, occupied by a small gnome, whom she vacates from the seat merely by glaring. I think my mother used to have a similar knack, and smile faintly.

"Come, come, sweety, sit down here and let me have a look at you. You've had a nasty time of it, if I'm not mistaken, and we'll need to see to that head of yours."

Turning, Allison shouts for a basin of hot water and some clean cloths and bandages, crossing her arms and tapping her feet impatiently as the kitchen boy races to comply.

I lay my forehead on my arms and try not to wince as the innkeeper dips her cloth into the steaming basin and begins cleaning the wound on the back of my head.

"Percival!"

I cringe for a moment before realizing that she's not yelling at me. I hear, rather than see, the heavy approach of a large personage. The weighty footsteps stop next to me.

"Yes'm?" The voice is low, rumbling, and in any other circumstance, would likely be soothing.

There is nothing, however, soothing about the innkeep's voice as she begins berating the man.

"Percival! I told you to bring her inside and take her upstairs!! You just dumped her on the floor!"

I hear swallowing sounds as the man evidently swigs his ale.

"No'm, you just told me to bring her inside." I can almost hear him shrug. I raise my head slowly and look at Allison.

"Innkeep, I'm fine, perhaps I might..." My voice trails off as I see that she is still glaring at the man and ignoring me completely.

"Fine. You brought her inside. But your insensitivity earns you no more drink this night. You can damned well pay like everyone else."

Again, that massive shrug as he turns away.

Allison finishes cleaning and bandaging Lyrikae's head, fussing and mumbling under breath all the while, about vagabonds, thiefs, and 'men too lazy to see beyond their first drink'. Lyrikae suffers the attention in silence, having very little energy for discourse at the moment. Finishing, Allison sits across the table from the seemingly-young Night Elven girl.

"Lass?"

I think I'd dozed off during her ministrations -- a seeming impossibility given the throbbing in my head, but I was apparently exausted. I raised my head slowly, eyes downcast.

"Yes, ma'am?" I had vague memories of how she'd dealt with the man, who was several times her size. She was fearless in her domain, and I had no wish -- and was in no condition -- to be anything but polite. She places her hands over mine and pats them comfortingly.

"What do you remember, sweety?"

I blink, confused for a moment before realizing that she's asking if I remember what happened to me. I look down at myself again, clothed only in the cloth garments I wear under my armor to keep it from chaffing.

"I...don't know." My voice is hesitant, and I hate the weakness I hear immediately. This isn't my voice, isn't me...what did happen to me? I slowly raise my eyes to her, pleading without words. She gives a final pat to my hands and sits back, crossing her own in front of her on the smooth wooden table.

Lyrikae listens with chagrin, then growing shock, as the kindly innkeeper relates that she had been mugged, and stripped of all her valuables, weapons, armor, coinage...everything, then left for dead in a nearby alley-way.

"That's when Percival there" a tip of her head towards the large man across the room (who evidently did not require Allison's largesse in order to maintain his lubrication) "came running in, saying a young elven girl had been left for dead, and should he try to help her out?" She rolls her eyes.

I raise my eyebrows, closing my eyes and biting my lip at the same time. This is too much to take in, I think. Such things should not, couldnot, happen to me. I am too powerful, have been, too powerful. It has been many, many months since I have fallen wounded in battle against multiple enemies -- never mind a skulking thief in the night.

I take a deep breath and open my eyes.

"Thank you, ma'am, for your kindness, and if you'll thank Percival there, for me...left for dead, you say?" I reach for my purse, intending to contribute to the Percival Lubrication Fund, when I sheepishly realize that I have no purse to reach for. "Er..." My voice trails off.

"Never mind, dearie, I'll take care of him. He has his uses." She peers at me closely, a slight crease in her brow as she examines me. "You seem to be better, but you're staying here tonight."

I open my mouth to say something, but she glances at me, a glance that promises to become a glare, should it need to. I had seen what that glare was capable of. I closed my mouth, nodded.

Suddenly, it all seemed too much. The heat, noise, smells, my losses, my pain...my vision became blurry as tears began leaking unnoticed from my eyes, and a small sob escaped me. I quickly bury my head in my arms on the table, but she had seen. She had seen.

Lyrikae attempts feeble protest as the innkeeper bustles her upstairs to an austere, but clean room. Allison produces a clean cotton shift, and helps Lyrikae out of her remaining clothing and into the shift, then tucks her gently into the bed. Despite her confusion and desire to find out what happened to her, Lyrikae quickly falls asleep.

I wake to pounding on my door, although it could just as easily have been pounding in my head. I groan and turn over, pulling a pillow over my eyes, hoping the pounding will just go away if I out-wait it.

It doesn't. I sigh heavily and heave myself out of bed. The movement causes some discomfort, but nothing like last night. I growl under my breath and stalk to the door, jerking it open and glaring out at...nothing.

I frown for a moment, then look down, surprised, at a sharp tap on my knee. I blink, then hide a grin behind an ostensible yawn.

Standing in the doorway, pencil and pad in hand, was a small gnome -- well, small even for a gnome -- who was already glaring up at me because I'd looked out over his head, first. He was wearing a miniature version of the Stormwind Constabulary.

"Are you Lyrikae SeaSilver Windrunner?" His voice is surprisingly deep, for such a small one.

"er, I...yes. Yes, I am."

The gnome peers at me closely, examining me, starting from my feet and continuing on to my head. It was...slightly uncomfortable. The Gnome sighs, licks his pencil tip, and begins scribbling industriously on his pad, muttering under his breath.

"Lir...no, no, leeree...no, no! Bah!" He glares up at me, clearly annoyed. "Spell your name please!"

I do so, slowly, then again, as he laboriously writes it out on his pad, muttering about obscenely long Elvish names.

Annoyed myself, I display the unforgiveable temerity to ask him what hisname was.

"Finklestart Geargunner Winglefran, at your service. Constible Winglefran, to you, missy!"

I blink, consider saying something about the relative length of our names, then prudently decide not to.

Lyrikae leans against the wooden door frame as Winglefran leads her through his clearly-defined investigatory process of questions and prodding. Although outwardly impatient with the ordeal, she is, in truth, happy to be recieving potential help at apprehending her attacker, and the prospect of perhaps retrieving her hard-won equipment adds eagerness to her cooperation with the tiny constible.

I give a small start as the constible snaps his notebook closed, smartly. I look down at him, returning from my attempted but not-so-successful trip down memory lane to identify my attacker.

"Constible Dinglefran, might I..." I give a small yelp as he whacks me in the knee with his notebook.

"Winglefran! Constible Winglefran, missy, if you know what's good for you, Leerikay Bendwalker!!"

I did. Judging from the distance his jaw jutted from his face, I knew I was on delicate ground.

"Constible um...Winglefran...Might I ask what happens now?" I wince gingerly, expecting a scathing retort. His answer, however, is quiet, autoritative, and reassuring.

"We will investigate, missy. We have the means to discover who has done this, and, when we do, we will punish them accordingly. Stormwind Privacy Laws prohibit us from telling you who attacked you -- can't have you going out and murdering decent thieves in the night, can we? -- but it very well may be possible to return equipment such as yours. Particularly given the rather...rare...nature, of your particular...items. We shall see, missy, we shall see."

He gives a small giggle and turns, waddling to the stariwell head before turning back to me.

"We'll be in touch, Lyrikae Windrunner. Keep faith. We'll be in touch."

I nod slowly, strangely comforted by the sureness with which the small gnome spoke. Perhaps things would work out. Stranger things have happened. I closed the door, and turned back to my bed.

Lyrikae spends that day and several others recuperating in the inn, carefully watched over by Allison as she recovers from her injuries. She livens up as she heals, eventually smiling and joking and, at times, drinking with the other patrons of the Gilded Rose.

Yet, at times, she can be seen to be staring at the entrance expectantly, perhaps awaiting the arrival of a small gnomish investigator.

[ post edited by Lyrikae ]

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Poster: Pavonum at 6/15/2006 11:06:27 PM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
   While sitting up in bed, quietly reading by the brave beams of light cascading through the open window, Lyrikae hears the soft susurrus of rustling feathers. Looking up from her book, she sees the most remarkable creature approaching; it has the bulk of a bear, but the beak and plumage of an owl, and the antlers of an elk.

One has the vague impression that it would be wild on the dance floor.


"Hail, my fair Elven friend; you may call me Pavonum, and I am one of Constable Winglefran's, err..." The owlbeast looks uncertain for a moment, as if pondering how to phrase the rest of the sentence. "Well, I suppose 'associates' would be the best word for it. Would you mind terribly if I took a seat?"

Without waiting for a response, Pavonum pulls a chair out from a nearby table, and -- with a movement more delicate than his heft would suggest possible -- sits down and crosses his legs. Lyrikae does her best not to let her attention be drawn to his talons; it would be rude to stare, after all.

"I've come here today, Ms. Windrunner -- may I be so presumptuous as to call you Lyrikae? -- to assure you that our department is still hard at work to determine who is responsible for this detestable act, and precisely what the extent of the damage is, so that we may best devise the appropriate means of setting things right.

"I regret that a more accurate estimation as to when the authorities shall contact you with the results of their analysis is not mine to offer; as much as I would like to claim that the powers of nature coursing through my veins grant me prescience, it simply isn't the case. But I have personally looked into the matter -- you wouldn't believe how blasted uncooperative that Gnome can be about sharing case notes -- and confirmed that the investigation is well underway."

There is a sudden burst of coarse laughter from outside the inn, and, before he can catch himself, Pavonum throws a sharp glance out the window and hoots darkly to himself about "insolent whelps" before recovering and setting his gaze back on the elf. He takes a solemn breath, and continues.

"Despite the... surroundings in which you find yourself, Lyrikae, it looks as if you're comfortable here, for which I am truly glad; I can only imagine what a harrowing ordeal this has been for you, and your patience and assistance have been more appreciated than I can say. My best recommendation for you would be to stay here a bit longer, let those wounds heal, and wait for our Investigation Team to get in touch with you. Although I cannot say how long it shall be before they do so -- knowing Winglefran's organisational skills, perhaps a week or longer -- I can tell you that we're going to do everything possible to recover your armour and weapons from the brigand responsible for this matter."

Pavonum stands up suddenly, causing two lone feathers to flutter slowly to the wooden floor; he ruffles his plumage, and extends a wing.

"It has been my pleasure to meet you, Lyrikae. Please accept my apologies that I cannot offer anything more concrete as a reassurance, but know that we'll do you right. In the meantime, thank you so much for your understanding; may Elune watch over you, young Windrunner."

And, after bowing deeply -- and upsetting a couple more feathers -- the owlbeast waddles stately away. Lyrikae watches as he fades into the distance.

[ post edited by Pavonum ]


...and teeming with souls shall it ever be.
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post51185
Poster: Pavonum at 6/16/2006 12:41:22 AM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
   Much to Lyrikae's surprise, a sudden gust of wind blows through the window, bearing with it a piece of parchment rolled up and bound by a ribbon. It falls to the floor, and rolls halfheartedly under the bed. The elf, curious to see the meaning behind this new development, bends over and picks up the parchment. After removing the ribbon and unrolling it, she sees a handwritten message in elaborate calligraphy, and finds that her astonishment had only yet begun:

Lyrikae,

One advantage of having ties to Nature herself, and being in Elune's good graces, is that little goes by unnoticed; I saw what your ingenuity led you to do with my discarded feathers, and would simply like to say that you need not fret at what my reaction would be -- I've come to a similar conclusion myself. You can't imagine how dead useful it is to be covered in what are, in effect, living quills; so long as I carry a small bottle of ink and keep my talons sharp, I need never worry about being without a writing implement. I would, however, like a portion of whatever profits are made by "Lyrikae's PavonumPen Emporium," as I feel is only fair, given that I am the progenitor of the product.

p.s. Mind that you don't overexert yourself, young lady; you'll exacerbate your injuries. [Lyrikae can almost imagine Pavonum's stern, but ultimately kind, look.]

Yours,
Pavonum
...and teeming with souls shall it ever be.
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post51281
Poster: Pavonum at 6/16/2006 2:35:10 AM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
   (( No objections here. ))

:)
...and teeming with souls shall it ever be.
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post51329
Poster: Pavonum at 6/18/2006 7:03:02 PM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
   Lyrikae, haunted by her worries and wondering whether large quantities of ale would help to quell them, is too preoccupied to notice the boisterous and potvaliant discussion in the tavern give way to conspirational whispers, as if some persona non grata has just entered and become the topic of hushed conversation. She also can't make out the sudden rustle of feathers amidst the whispers, the subtle scuff of talons on the weathered wood floor... and suddenly Pavonum is before her again.

"Hello again, Lyrikae; it pains me to see you carrying such a burden on your shoulders. And to think that I demanded gold from you for my discarded feathers! It is consumed by shame that I come to you, friend, to apologise for my lack of consideration before; in my position I have little need for money, and your situation could certainly be made more pleasant by a bit of wherewithal. Please, by all means, sell as many quills as you wish -- you merely honour me by using my name."

Pavonum, his broad face split into a rare smile -- well, so much as a beak can -- pulls out a chair and takes a seat at the table across from Lyrikae. He raises a wing, and makes an awkward gesture at the bartender, who responds by studiously ignoring the owlbeast, spitting into a dirty glass, and wiping it with a filthy cloth.

"I never was good at this. Err... garçon?" The burly man behind the counter pauses in his efforts, looks up from the glass, and gives Pavonum a glare which makes it evident that although he doesn't know what that word means, it isn't something he appreciates being called. The owlbeast gives Lyrikae a nervous glance, clears his throat, and tries again. "Err, you see, barkeep, sir, I'd like to buy the lady and myself a drink... I don't suppose you serve flagons of ale?"

The bartender just looks at Pavonum for a moment, incredulous, and then gives a sharp, bitter laugh. He pulls two mugs from beneath the bar, fills them up at the tap with a frothy liquid, and walks over to place them on the table. The owlbeast pulls two gold coins from a bag tied to his waist, and makes an admirable attempt at hiding his obvious displeasure with the cleanliness of the glasses as he pays the man. The bartender stalks back to the counter, grumbling incoherently, but pockets the gold all the same.

"Well, bottoms up. 'Bibamus, moriendum est,' as they say." He picks up the mug, turns it until he finds a side without too many apparent smudges, and is about to swallow a draught when he notices the blank look on Lyrikae's face. "Ah, forgive me. It's Latin: 'Death's unavoidable; let's have a drink!'" He makes once again to take a sip, sees an insect floating in the ale, then reconsiders and sets the glass back down on the table.

"I really shouldn't; I'm on-duty." Pavonum gives Lyrikae a pointed look, as if wondering whether she will challenge his excuse, but she remains silent. "In any case, I understand that you wish to hear news regarding your theft; I truly wish I could offer it to you, but Winglefran and his team of investigators are completely inscrutable. They're the best at what they do, and I've no doubt that they'll make every effort to help you recover your possessions, but I'll be plucked clean before they'll let me know how it's coming."

Pavonum notes that Lyrikae's head droops a bit, as if held down by the weight of her sorrow, and gently places a wing under her chin.

"Fret not, my Elven friend. You have my word that Winglefran -- odd though he may be -- is as fine a detective as I have ever seen. He shall not rest until the culprit is found, and the story is told as to how this occurred. While I cannot guarantee that we shall be able to recover all that was lost, we shall certainly do everything we can to help you to the fullest extent possible. Until that time, we merely ask that you remain patient, difficult though that may be under the circumstances. Be strong, and don't drink too much."

Pavonum stands up from the table, leaving his drink -- which has begun to congeal -- untouched. He pats Lyrikae on the shoulder, and hands something to her before walking away slowly. The bartender mumbles to himself about "ruddy birds" and begins wiping down the counter with his rag; the elf notices that the wood actually becomes dirtier wherever the cloth touches. She looks at the nearly forgotten parcel the owlbeast had handed to her, and sees that it is the napkin, left on the windowsill, in which she had tied the two gold coins. She turns suddenly to the door, but he is already gone, and the colours of the setting sun are bleeding through the window...

[ post edited by Pavonum ]


...and teeming with souls shall it ever be.
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post52247
Poster: Pavonum at 6/18/2006 7:03:02 PM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP) *edited post*
   Lyrikae, haunted by her worries and wondering whether large quantities of ale would help to quell them, is too preoccupied to notice the boisterous and potvaliant discussion in the tavern give way to conspirational whispers, as if some persona non grata has just entered and become the topic of hushed conversation. She also can't make out the sudden rustle of feathers amidst the whispers, the subtle scuff of talons on the weathered wood floor... and suddenly Pavonum is before her again.

"Hello again, Lyrikae; it pains me to see you carrying such a burden on your shoulders. And to think that I demanded gold from you for my discarded feathers! It is consumed by shame that I come to you, friend, to apologise for my lack of consideration before; in my position I have little need for money, and your situation could certainly be made more pleasant by a bit of wherewithal. Please, by all means, sell as many quills as you wish -- you merely honour me by using my name."

Pavonum, his broad face split into a rare smile -- well, so much as a beak can -- pulls out a chair and takes a seat at the table across from Lyrikae. He raises a wing, and makes an awkward gesture at the bartender, who responds by studiously ignoring the owlbeast, spitting into a dirty glass, and wiping it with a filthy cloth.

"I never was good at this. Err... garçon?" The burly man behind the counter pauses in his efforts, looks up from the glass, and gives Pavonum a glare which makes it evident that although he doesn't know what that word means, it isn't something he appreciates being called. The owlbeast gives Lyrikae a nervous glance, clears his throat, and tries again. "Err, you see, barkeep, sir, I'd like to buy the lady and myself a drink... I don't suppose you serve flagons of ale?"

The bartender just looks at Pavonum for a moment, incredulous, and then gives a sharp, bitter laugh. He pulls two mugs from beneath the bar, fills them up at the tap with a frothy liquid, and walks over to place them on the table. The owlbeast pulls two gold coins from a bag tied to his waist, and makes an admirable attempt to hide his obvious horror at the squalor of the glasses as he pays the man. The bartender stalks back to the counter, grumbling incoherently, but pockets the gold all the same.

"Well, bottoms up. 'Bibamus, moriendum est,' as they say." He picks up the mug, turns it until he finds a side without too many apparent smudges, and is about to swallow a draught when he notices the blank look on Lyrikae's face. "Ah, forgive me. It's Latin: 'Death's unavoidable; let's have a drink!'" He makes once again to take a sip, sees an insect floating in the ale, then reconsiders and sets the glass back down on the table.

"I really shouldn't; I'm on-duty." Pavonum gives Lyrikae a pointed look, as if wondering whether she will challenge his excuse, but she remains silent. "In any case, I understand that you wish to hear news regarding your theft; I truly wish I could offer it to you, but Winglefran and his team of investigators are completely inscrutable. They're the best at what they do, and I've no doubt that they'll make every effort to help you recover your possessions, but I'll be plucked clean before they'll let me know how it's coming."

Pavonum notes that Lyrikae's head droops a bit, as if held down by the weight of her sorrow, and gently places a wing under her chin.

"Fret not, my Elven friend. You have my word that Winglefran -- odd though he may be -- is as fine a detective as I have ever seen. He shall not rest until the culprit is found, and the story is told as to how this occurred. While I cannot guarantee that we shall be able to recover all that was lost, we shall certainly do everything we can to help you to the fullest extent possible. Until that time, we merely ask that you remain patient, difficult though that may be under the circumstances. Be strong, and don't drink too much."

Pavonum stands up from the table, leaving his drink -- which has begun to congeal -- untouched. He pats Lyrikae on the shoulder, and hands something to her before walking away slowly. The bartender mumbles to himself about "ruddy birds" and begins wiping down the counter with his rag; the elf notices that the wood actually becomes dirtier wherever the cloth touches. She looks at the nearly forgotten parcel the owlbeast had passed to her, and sees that it is the napkin, left on the windowsill, in which she had tied the two gold coins; they clink in her hand. She turns suddenly to the door, but he is already gone, and the colours of the setting sun are bleeding through the window...

[ post edited by Pavonum ]


...and teeming with souls shall it ever be.
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post52247
Poster: Pavonum at 6/19/2006 1:02:32 AM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
  

Q u o t e:
Linky!! =P

I wouldn't mind seeing their reaction and criticism.

:)


Nor I! Of course, I also wouldn't object to a continuation of the tale...

/tar Lyrikae
/cast Nudge

:D
...and teeming with souls shall it ever be.
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post52529
Poster: Pavonum at 6/22/2006 6:15:46 PM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
   As Lyrikae wanders down the street, looking into the darkened windows of shops closed for the evening, a courier suddenly bustles into her, upsetting his satchel.

"Thousand pard'ns, m'lady. Din't see ye there." His accent is rustic, but his tone cheery. "Say, ye wouldn't 'appen to be, err... Leaky Windrunner? Got a message f'you."

The courier digs around in his bag until he finds a bit of parchment sealed with wax pressed in the image of a quill, then hands it to the surprised elf.

"Well, miss, I ort t'be leavin', busy day t'day."

The courier gives Lyrikae a lazy salute, and jogs off. The elf looks at the parchment for a moment, then breaks the seal and reads the message inside:

Lyrikae,

I am truly sorry to say that we are unable to offer any concrete details regarding the progression of your investigation; suffice it to say that you have not been forgotten, and that Winglefran and Co. shall be in contact with you sometime in the near future. In the meantime, please forgive me for my brevity, but we are extraordinarily busy in my department, and there are a number of matters which demand my attention. If I hear any news, friend, you have my word that you shall be the first to be made aware.

Yours,
Pavonum
In the biz we call that an "Oh Snap." Your rebuttal?
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post57801
Poster: Pavonum at 6/24/2006 12:19:39 AM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
  

Q u o t e:
i would appreciate it if you stopped deleting my posts


And I would appreciate it if you began contributing constructive replies to this topic. Shall we make a trade? :)
In the biz we call that an "Oh Snap." Your rebuttal?
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post59462
Poster: Pavonum at 6/24/2006 12:49:00 AM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
  

Q u o t e:
i thought we had a deal :(


That was before you used inappropriate language. :)
In the biz we call that an "Oh Snap." Your rebuttal?
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post59491
Poster: Pavonum at 6/24/2006 1:37:01 AM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
  

Q u o t e:
((

Pavonum, your interactions with me and those in my thread are just about the only good thing that's come of my situation. I wanted to take a moment to thank you for your efforts on my behalf, as well as those I see you so tirelessly putting forth every day in this forum. If at times I seem impatient (or annoying), that's merely a byproduct of my (seemingly interminable)wait. Thank you, I appreciate what you've done.

))


(( It is entirely my pleasure to be of assistance, Lyrikae, and I'm truly glad to hear that my responses in this thread and others have helped to make what must be a harrowing experience just that much more bearable. I understand completely your feelings of frustration, and would like to thank you for the boundless patience and fortitude you've shown in the face of tragedy; the wait shall not prove to be eternal, of that I can assure you. Thanks again, friend, and please let me know if there's anything more I can do for you. ))
In the biz we call that an "Oh Snap." Your rebuttal?
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post59524
Poster: Pavonum at 6/24/2006 2:38:23 AM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
  

Q u o t e:
((

Actually, there is, I'm afraid. The ticket I opened for my restoral has disappeared, after staying up for 8 days or so after the initial "we'll be in touch, please don't edit, cancel, or start a new ticket" email. Does that mean I've somehow been kicked out of the queue? I have received no further emails regarding anything. The ticket was done on Lokanae, Maelstrom server.

Thanks, and sorry to bug you!

))


(( You needn't fret, my friend. The reason your ticket has disappeared is because the pertinent information regarding your situation has been passed along to our Account Investigators; they are better suited to delving into the matter, given what appear to be the circumstances under which the virtual property was lost. The Investigators, unlike our Character Specialists, do not require an open ticket to conduct their research, and shall contact you once they have determined precisely what occurred, and, subsequently, how we may be of aid in restoring your account to as much of its former glory as is possible. I do apologise, however, for any distress you may have been caused. ))
In the biz we call that an "Oh Snap." Your rebuttal?
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post59552
Poster: Pavonum at 7/3/2006 12:30:16 AM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
   As Lyrikae toys with the knife, her mind consumed by thoughts which should never have entered, the faint sound of talons beating the ground reaches her ears. She looks up, eyes unfocused, and sees a bulky, befeathered shadow in the door of the tavern. Pavonum stands before her, still out of breath; it looks as though he's been running.

"Lyrikae! I had feared it may be too late. Stay your blade, my Elven friend, and heed well my words. I come bearing news, although Elune knows what fate shall befall me for riffling through Winglefran's files..." The owlbeast's voice trails with uncertainty, darkened by dread at the Gnome's reaction when he discovers what has happened.

Pavonum strides toward Lyrikae, leaving feathers in his wake, and hastily takes a seat across from her. Grimacing at the reeking ale on her breath, he sets down a piece of paper covered in near-illegible Gnomish handwriting. The Night Elf tilts her head and tries to make sense of the text, but it means nothing to her in her drunken stupor.

"All right, here's the deal." His voice is low, conspiratorial. "From what I've been able to glean from these records, the investigation should be concluded sometime in the next week, although I can't offer any guarantee... my Gnomish is a bit rusty. So hold out for a few more days, my friend; please don't do anything rash. I'm concerned for your welfare."

The owlbeast looks up from the paper at Lyrikae, his eyes filled with worry. He reaches a feathery claw over the table, and places it firmly on her shoulder.

"Patience, fortitude. This is nearly over. Do not let your despair overwhelm you. Remember Elune's teachings, and let them strengthen your resolve. We're here to help, Lyrikae; you are not being ignored, that I am here to promise you. If there is anything more which I may do to help you, please let me know, and I shall do what I can."
What is it, Sebastian? I'm arranging matches.
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post69168
Poster: Pavonum at 7/13/2006 11:35:42 PM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
  

Q u o t e:
Why does it take so long? I mean, I understand the investigators can't spend 24/7 on trying to find out what went missing and stuff. I know it's not a quick fix, but still - 5 weeks is ridiculous.


I understand that the current period of time required for our Account Investigators to address compromised accounts may seem unduly long, but one must consider that we receive a great deal of such reports, easily dozens each day, and that an individual investigation can take several hours to thoroughly complete. Regrettably, despite what players may think, it is not as simple as clicking some sort of "Revert to Saved" button, or "rolling back" one's characters to a time before the compromise occurred; this is not simply not feasible, partly due to the immense amount of data which would have to be stored for each character, and the fact that our records are too dynamic for "snapshots" to be valid.

Instead, the Investigator must delve into precisely what happened during the compromise -- items that were destroyed, gold that was spent, auctions that were bid on or created, etc. -- and reverse whatever damage was done. This is not always limited to the affected character, either; sometimes items and gold are disseminated across a number of avenues, and each instance must be fully investigated. You can think of each compromise as a system of spiderwebs, at the middle of which are the affected characters: some items may be disenchanted, and the resulting components sold on the Auction House; others may be sold to a vendor, the profits from which are sent to any number of other players or spent elsewhere. Depending on how many characters were affected, and the intricacy of the compromise itself, it can take some time to right all wrongs.

Please also realise that, although the members of our Account Investigation team work extraordinarily diligently, their numbers and time are finite; although it would be arguably more effective to cage them and force constant activity from their bleeding fingers, these individuals can only do so much during their respective shifts. We are taking strides to make the process as a whole more efficient, however, and the framework is currently being laid for further improvements to our ability to assist players in these matters. In the meantime, we truly do appreciate your patience; we know it can be a long, harrowing wait, and we do everything in our power to alleviate that. But all progress takes time. :)


Q u o t e:
(( /signed ))


You know I have a certain fondness for you, Lyrikae, so I trust that you shall not misinterpret me when I say that if this thread becomes some sort of petition -- that is to say, if players start to contribute nothing more meaningful than "/signed" to this discussion -- I shall lock it, although I do not wish to. Please don't force my hand, friend. :)
What are Dwarven runes doing on Elven ruins?
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post81774
Poster: Pavonum at 7/14/2006 10:17:33 PM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
  

Q u o t e:
Pavonum...I love you...Can I have your children?


I don't know, Mordread... who would they take after? Can you imagine a bunch of tiny, decomposing Moonkin running around?
What are Dwarven runes doing on Elven ruins?
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post82853
Poster: Batta at 7/17/2006 6:20:26 PM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
  

Q u o t e:
Also, I pretty much only do the rp posts when I see him posting in other threads, so I know he's working and all.

Batta looks around the room to find the unflinching eyes of the Night Elf mob not fall below their pristine chins, likely cut from a mold, which gravitate toward Elune. He flips quickly across the floor to dodge another Human foot, seemingly bigger than the operator's brain, landing him on all fours below Lyrikae's table. There, she patiently awaits the return of her feathered friend and new hero.

"Excuse me," he speaks, with his eery grin poking just out from the other side of the table while climbing into a chair across from his anxious customer, "you are looking for..."

Batta's words go unnoticed, as the faintly-melodic sounds of Dwarven drinking songs puncture the mutterings of the tiny elemental. After being unable to determine Lyrikae's glance as one of acknowledgement through her porcelain eyes, Batta jumps back under the table.

"Why am I always overlooked by these creatures?" Batta wonders while rolling from table bottom to table bottom, until he notices a gold piece stuck to a Murloc's eye between the floor boards - the eye imprinted with the footing of a plate-wearer - no doubt one of the last things that poor scaled creature saw.

In one great motion, Batta leaps onto the bar and bursts into flames, shattering all nearby glasses and nearly setting the whole place ablaze. The activities of the room come to a screeching halt with all eyes fixated on the flaming elemental. Batta flips the coin at the chest of the bartender, who catches the Imp's findings in a near fumble.

"Bartender, I'll take two of your finest lagers, pint-sized please. I'm awaiting my Moonkin friend." In a much more clarified tone, Batta addresses the whole room, "That right, folks! I'm here waiting for Pavonum! Now, so long as we have some time to kill, why don't a couple of you put aside your adventure tales and take to that piano over yonder. Anyone know 'My Little Buttercup'?"

[ post edited by Batta ]


Warmth is to sun, as truth is to me.
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post85414
Poster: Pavonum at 7/20/2006 1:13:30 AM PDT
Subject: Re: Tilted Reality. (Hacked account RP)
  

Q u o t e:
((

As stated, I did indeed receive most of my items back. To pre-answer the deluge of questions that have already started =P:

They did restore my gold.

They did restore almost every item, with the exception of the more rare enchanting mats that were in my bank. (LBS's and Nexus). I petitioned, and was told that their recovery was not possible. I'm not complaining, I got my gear.

They did NOT restore my professions. Also petitioned, they won't restore. Those. Again, *shrug* -- say it with me -- I GOT MY GM GEAR BACK! hehe

The whole process took 39 days. I was hacked on June 10th (I think), they sent it to specialists on June 15th, and I was restored today. So. There you have it.

Yes, I will make a final RP post encompassing the new developments, but I'm going to do the best I can, so it may take a bit.

Good luck to everyone still in this grueling process!


Thanks to Pavonum, Batta, Specialist GM GrHamick, and all of you who took the time to post in my thread. I really, really appreciate your support!

))


(( I'm ecstatic to hear that everything worked out in the end, Lyrikae! I look forward to reading, and responding to, your final RP post, and apologise for my recent absence in this thread. I've been keeping up with everything, but haven't found the time to reply. I knew that your patience would prove fruitful, and am glad to know that we were able to help. ))
Statement: I've become dulled to your excuses.
  http://forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-customer-service&t=51151&p=#post87748

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