#Bey'ron

[ronaestrider]

An Unexpected Update

Ruthar departs the interior of the Rangers' Lodge along with a series of other Farstrider leaders. They all look somewhat worn after what must have been a lengthy meeting of the minds. His bow and helmet are racked inside the lodge.

Bey'ron leans up against the doorway. "It always smells so... -rugged- in here, don't you think? I've always appreciated how Farstriders aren't afraid to get their hands dirty." he smirks, eyes meeting Ruthar's.

Ruthar halts in his departure, shifting to the side nearer Bey'ron. "Magister Everblaze," he begins, bowing his head in a small greeting. He turns a slight smirk. "Rugged is a...pleasant way to put it." He gestures behind him. "Please, come in - it has certainly been some time."

[Bey'ron]: Too long, I'd submit.

Bey'ron takes Ruthar up on the offer, and steps past him to get into the Lodge proper. He pulls back his hood as he looks around, admiring the trophies and displays.

Ruthar folds his hands behind his back, his gaze following the Magister's. He stands to his left but behind him slightly. "Too long, indeed. I hope the aftermath of the Incarnate dealings has been agreeable to you and your own."

[Bey'ron]: Mm, it resolved rather satisfactorily, I should think.

[Ruthar]: It's good to be back in Silvermoon, in any case. Even if temporarily.

Bey'ron sets his staff aside-- it hovers upright and in place. He turns to Ruthar, and smiles. "It always is, isn't it? The city itself defines the word 'home' for me. I could never imagine leaving it for too long."

[Bey'ron]: Though, I suppose you'd have to depart, if only for a short time, to truly appreciate the feeling of returning. That sense of peace, hmm? Of belonging.

Bey'ron shakes his head. "I suppose, in that way, I envy Miss Li-Mei."

Ruthar nods in agreement. "Fortunately, the return to home is usually trivial, thanks to the expert work of the Magistry." He holds a finger aloft to garner the attention of a newer recruit. "Can I get you a beverege, Magis..." Ruthar let's that hang in the air as Bey'ron offers Rosi's name.

[Bey'ron]: Oh, nothing for me, thank you.

Beyron grins at you wickedly.

Ruthar puts his finger down and the confused looking recruit scurries away. Ruthar reaches into his hauberk to produce a handwritten note. He unfolds it and passes it over to Bey'ron. "I have to say, I'm surprised to hear that name. Doubly so after receiving this. I had my doubts about who it was from, but I doubt this is mere happenstance."

Bey'ron accepts the note, and looks it over. "--Tch... seems someone spoiled the surprise." he frowns lightly.

[Bey'ron]: Just as well. My first instinct was to come to you about it, of course. If anyone would want to know about a Farstrider deserter returning to the High Kingdom, I knew it'd be you.

Bey'ron hands the missive back. "Given your mutual history, of course."

Ruthar takes that in for a moment, accepting the missive and returning it beneath his tabard. He smooths the fabric before replying.

[Ruthar]: I had assumed she had fallen in combat after reading the report of her absence, a rather unfortunate loss - such a promising Farstrider, it was a pleasure to promote her to the rank myself.

Ruthar sighs, glancing over toward nothing in particular. "Deserter? Now...that is something else."

Bey'ron raises his brow. "Oh? You didn't know... well, I suppose assuming she'd died valiantly in defense of the High Kingdom would weigh better than her turning her back on it." he sighs.

Ruthar 's demeanor darkens somewhat. "Indeed," he replies slowly. "I assume you have the pertinent details, then?"

[Bey'ron]: But of course. And I'm happy to share them with you, Captain. That's why I'm here.

Bey'ron waves a hand. "Now, you'll have to forgive me for not delivering her here in person. Frankly... I'm not entirely sure what you'd want done with her. So let me tell you what's happened, and give a recommendation, hmm?"

[Bey'ron]: To my surprise, I encountered her on the Dragon Isles. Hiding away from here. I came to learn she'd left Quel'Thalas sometime during the Fourth War. Something about serving the Dark Lady, albeit indirectly, must not have sat all too well with her.

Ruthar nods, gesturing over toward a desk, his mind moving just barely too quickly to notice the mistake in his title. "Before we continue, and if you'll allow, I'd like to take a record of the account to update our files." He slides a quill into his fingers as he looks expectantly to Bey'ron.

[Bey'ron]: --Ah, of course. By all means, Captain.

Ruthar quickly slides a blank piece of parchment over and begins to scribble on it. "Ranger Captain," he says more firmly than he intended. He writes quickly but pauses to add a question. "Where, exactly, in the Dragon Isles did you locate her initially?"

Bey'ron clasps his hands behind his back. "Well, my sources located her out and about. But I approached her in person for the first time just outside Valdrakken."

[Ruthar]: We have a Farstrider encampment outside of the city, as I'm sure you are aware. That explains the note easily enough.

[Bey'ron]: Cautious little thing. I'm surprised she didn't flee immediately. But alas, we shared a brief dialogue, and I was able to glean that she left in a disagreement with Horde leadership.

Ruthar continues to write, pausing again. "If it were a matter as trivial as that, I would think there would be record of it somewhere."

[Bey'ron]: I have no such record, I'm afraid. To be frank... I hadn't given her much thought, until I heard she'd been seen around the Dragon Isles.

Bey'ron shakes his head. "Nonetheless, I'm a firm believer in second chances. So I offered her a chance to put her expertise to good use. And if you can find nothing else to be proud of in this tale, take pride in the fact that she certainly delivered."

[Bey'ron]: That's when she approached me about coming back to Quel'Thalas. She sent me a missive, and asked to meet.

Ruthar nods, writing the offered details after dipping the quill in an inkwell. "She sent you a missive after you met face-to-face and assigned her an assignment?"

[Bey'ron]: Mm, that's correct.

Ruthar scratches out a few words and amends the document. "I have to say, Magister, that I am surprised that your first reaction was not to inform the Farstriders before sending her on an errand. I assume it was something of great importance to Quel'Thalas's actions in the Isles?"

Bey'ron shrugs. "I'm sure it's not quite what you would have done, but I saw an opportunity to set her back on the right path. And she took it. If she hadn't, I would have brought this exchange to light much sooner."

[Bey'ron]: I'm afraid I can't go into details about the assignment. But I can tell you that her choosing to accept and complete it most assuredly met with Quel'Thalas' best interests.

Ruthar nods, accepting the reasoning. "Testing the heart of a deserter is an acceptable play, though I'm sure the Farstriders would have preferred performing such a test themselves." He writes a few more words. "I appreciate your diligence, personally." He finishes a few lines. "I have it noted that she performed duties for the Magistry under the direction of yourself. I assume that will suffice."

[Bey'ron]: It very well should.

[Bey'ron]: In any case, that's when she reached out via the aforementioned missive, and asked to meet. We discussed what exactly it would take for her to return to Quel'Thalas under honorable conditions.

Ruthar jots that down and looks to Bey'ron. "Respectfully, that may be for the Farstrider leadership to decide, should more details come out once she is spoken to. However, I would like to hear the details of that conversation for the record."

Bey'ron smirks, and shakes his head. "Before all that, we've reached the point of this conversation where I'd like to hear -your- thoughts, Ranger Captain."

[Bey'ron]: For all intents and purposes, you -are- the Farstrider leadership. Were she in your custody now... what would your decision be regarding her fate?

Beyron peers at you searchingly.

Ruthar places down the quill next to the unfinished report. "Protocol demands more information first and foremost. I would need further information on her actions and whereabouts in the time since her departure. It would be of critical importance to ensure that any information that she was privy to was not improperly released. I would have suggested she be detained during that investigative period. Considering her departure was during the conflict of the Fourth War, there could be serious ramifications if she had offered information to the Alliance during that time of conflict."

Bey'ron nods firmly. "A sensible response. Protocol in full consideration of the security of Quel'Thalas. I'd expect nothing less from a Ranger Captain."

[Bey'ron]: But... now that you've recited the Farstrider Handbook for me, let's set that aside. Off the record...

Bey'ron steps forward, lowering his voice. "How would -you- like to see this resolved? You, Ruthar. Not Farstrider Captain Ronaestrider."

[Bey'ron]: I'm not certain how close you two were, but if her -crippling- fear of what you might think of all this is any indication, you two were close, hmm?

Bey'ron shakes his head. "Not suggesting anything untoward, mind you. A mentor-mentee relationship, at the very least."

Ruthar purses his lips, standing straighter. "If she finds herself mired in -crippling- fear over my reaction to this, then I fear that she has done something that would be very difficult for a Farstrider, potentially former in this case, to recover from. Regrettably, both my personal reaction as well as my official rests upon the truth of her absence."

[Bey'ron]: Mm. Insightful. Cautious. Admirable traits, indeed.

[Bey'ron]: You'd see justice done, whatever form it takes, hmm? Regardless of the ramifications it may have for you, personally. Commendable, most assuredly.

Bey'ron unclasps his hands and brings his arms in front of him, idly straightening his sleeves and adjusting his cuffs.

Ruthar nods, his expression stoic. "I would. It would not be the first time that duty had taken precendence over my personal relationships."

[Bey'ron]: I'm certain anyone with sense would see this was well beyond your control. I mean, yes-- you had a part in her training, vetting, and promotion. But all that can only reflect so poorly on you.

Bey'ron sighs. "Or the Phoenix Guard. Sun willing, her indiscretions won't soil the organization's good name. True heritage we all share, that."

Ruthar doesn't visibly react to that. "Indeed. Nor will this have been the first time a ranger's actions have potentially marred the image of myself or my associates. You and I can both attest that times of war can drive certain individuals to drastic action."

[Bey'ron]: That we can. We can only hope such context factors in to whatever external jurisidiction determines Farstrider Li-Mei's fate.

Ruthar nods, reaching for the quill once more. "Agreed. Now, to your subsequent conversation with Li-Mei. Did you offer her a pathway forward for her desire to return home?"

Bey'ron exhales sharply. "--Ah. Well, that all seems rather irrelevant now, doesn't it? It's no more up to me than it is up to you what pathway to redemption lies before Li-Mei, is it? We'd have to handle that internally-- and discreetly-- for that."

[Bey'ron]: A curious alternative, to be sure.

Bey'ron plucks some imaginary debris from his robe. "Certainly an attractive option, I'd have to admit..."

Ruthar considers that for a moment, the quill still in-hand. "I suppose. Though, I have made note of your conversation with her here already." He glances around the Lodge to anyone nearby. "It would be preferred to wrap that up in some manner to formally close this particular parchment," he offers slightly quieter.

Bey'ron grins, and nods. "Of course, as you say. I told her that, were it up to me, she'd need to show in a tangible and unmistakable way that she is loyal to the High Kingdom, and felt deep remorse for any past falterings of that loyalty."

[Bey'ron]: After that, she departed. To where, I cannot say.

Ruthar nods, appreciating the Magister's understanding. He adds the final words and some filligree to the end of the document before signing it. He offers the quill to Bey'ron and slides the parchment over. "If you would review and sign, please - I will see this is processed formally." He lowers his voice slightly. "After which time I'd be happy to discuss further off-the-record."

[Bey'ron]: Certainly.

Bey'ron accepts the parchment, and sets it flat on the table. His eyes scan over the words, carefully-- quill in hand, at the ready. "I trust this will be filed away properly? I know it can be frustrating when such affidavits go missing at the Spire..."

Bey'ron nods once, and signs the parchment.

Ruthar nods, "You have my word, Magister Everblaze. Paperwork has, for better or worse, become one of my strong suits." He allows the ink to dry a moment before folding the parchment and sealing it with a red wax seal. "I appreciate you bringing this here personally. I realize how simple it would have been to send a note or a delegate - your offer of time and information is certainly noted and deeply appreciated."

[Bey'ron]: Ah, but of course! I'll admit I have a bit of a soft spot for the Phoenix Guard and its alumni. This issue, most certainly called for a personal involvement, I think.

Bey'ron clasps his hands behind his back. "Do keep me informed as to how this all plays out, hmm? I'd love to stay and discuss it further, but I'm needed back in the Spire. No rest for the wicked, you know." he smirks.

Ruthar lifts the sealed document from the table and nods. "Indeed I shall. I will get this submitted to have Li-Mei's record updated accordingly. Perhaps we can arrange an appointment in a few days time to...continue the discussion? Perhaps somewhere

Ruthar more...comfortable." He chooses his words carefully.

[Bey'ron]: That sounds most agreeable, Ranger Captain. We'll see it done.

Ruthar bows his head respectfully. "Thank you again for your time, Magister Everblaze. It is good to see you again. Sunwell guide."

[Bey'ron]: Mm, and you. Always a pleasure.

Bey'ron turns, and takes his staff up from where he left it lingering. "By the by... have you stopped in to visit Lady and Doctor Starfrost recently? On the subject of old alumni, of course."

[Bey'ron]: If you haven't, perhaps you should pay them a visit. Always a treat, visiting old friends. Who knows? You might even bump into some you didn't expect to see...

Ruthar shakes his head. "Sadly, my attention has been focused whole-heartedly on our efforts in Valdrakken. I should make a point to rectify that now that things are subsiding on the Isles. I was always very fond of Lady Starfrost." He considers the addendum, searching for the right words. "I look forward to it greatly," he adds, his mind considering a few possibilities.

[Ruthar]: Do send my very best if the opportunity presents itself.

[Bey'ron]: Likewise, should you encounter them before my next opportunity.

Bey'ron nods once, then pulls his hood up again. "Shorel'aran, Ranger Captain."

Ruthar nods, "You have my word. Al diel shala, Magister Everblaze."

[inathia]

Returning Home

The jewel-toned leaves of citrine, topaz and ruby crunched under the heavy footfalls of a child of blood long overdue for their return home. Black boots caked in enough mud, sand and blood made them appear dull, almost gray in appearance. The entire suit of armor had much of the same wear and tear after years of travel. A once pristine black tabard with a red phoenix was layered over the armor, with years of dutiful mending evident on the endlessly frayed and repaired hems.

Stopping just outside of Fairbreeze Village, the weary traveler looked up at the tall inn building. Memories of a past lifetime of chasing little lordlings caused a derisive exhale, though the days of walking had certainly taken a toll. A brief rest for a proper meal couldn't hurt, could it?

Finally, the tattered red hood that covered the traveler's face fell back over her head, settling around her neck much like a scarf. The face of Ina'tha Dawnblade, the once-decorated Knight Lord of the Blood Knight Order, and once-proud Commander of the Phoenix Guard, finally allowed herself to be seen. It was unclear if she'd been hiding her face out of shame for her abrupt and prolonged absence, or her lack of usual dark eye makeup and lipstick. Considering both her pride and her vanity, it was likely both.

With her chin held high, Ina'thia strode right up the ramp and sat a table in the inn. Before the waiter could approach the table, she placed a gold and several silver pieces on its surface.

"A glass of Eversong Red and a fruit and cheese platter."

No please, no thank you. Just the sharp comments of someone who had been away from civilization or entirely too long. Patrons of the Fairbreeze Village inn whispered in hushed tones amongst themselves, and Ina'thia couldn't help but catch one well-dressed man out of the corner of her eye. He had watched her a moment too long, and his chair made a gods-awful sound on the floor as he got up too quickly.

The man hurried outside in a whirl of red and gold robes, speaking quietly into an enchanted gemstone. Ina'thia leveled her one-eyed gaze on him as he left, then sipped at her wine the moment it was brought to her.

"M-Magister… are you there? Magister Everblaze…" the man stammered, covering his mouth so his lips could not be read, "You're not going to believe this. She's here."

@thefugitivemango

[thefugitivemango]

To Bey’ron: “Aren’t you afraid of ending up alone?”

“Afraid? Come now, do I truly come off as someone who would fear loneliness? Loneliness and I are old friends, by now. You know what they say; It’s lonely at the top. No, I’m not afraid of ending up alone. Preposterous!” 

[lordbeyron]

Continuation of this starter.

Brushing the feather of the quill over her chin, she gave him a thoughtful look and asked, “Does it matter just what it is as long as it was written during that time period, or is there something more specific I should be honing in on? I’d like to build a good rapport, after all.  Ensuring you acquire what you are seeking of my trade is of the utmost importance.”

“Oh yes... quite specific, in fact. I’ve been collecting the complete works of Arcanist Lueni Destre. Does the name ring with any familiarity?” the Magister asked. “One of Queen Azshara’s top advisors, if it helps. She published a great many works on the nature of Arcana. Much more of a theoretical voice on the subject, as opposed to one of more practical applications. Here.”

Bey’ron reached out to the empty space before him... as the space began contorting. A rift tore open at his will-- and from it, something reached out to deposit a musty old tome into the Magister’s gloved hand. It vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He briefly thumbed through its worn pages, each leaf crinkling against another. The leather binding, too, was weathered, but seemed strong enough to keep the book all together.

“This is one of her more popular works, ‘The Highest Power’. Nothing any first-year arcana student hasn’t read, surely.” he let a light chuckle. “This copy is a first edition - quite rare, considering its age. Written by her own hand, too. Or presumably some enchanted quill. Nonetheless, it’s a suitable example of her handwriting and the type of parchments and bindings she used. The tome I’m looking for should have similar properties. Have a look-- and do be careful, hmm?”

He held the tome out for Asharri to take, a glimmer of excitement from talking of such ancient and potent knowledge still ablaze in his eyes.

(( @lakefire​ ))

[kidcatgeminiart]

Patron Reward - Bey’ron Everblaze

Completed Chibi Icon of everyone’s favorite smug asshole Magister <3 ( @lordbeyron / @thefugitivemango )

~*~*~

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[cebinaruavin]

Truce

((Story co-written with @thefugitivemango / @lordbeyron. @pariker / @inathia​ / @phoenixguard​ for mention.))

~*~*~

Cebina waited in the foyer as Bey’ron finished his bath. She took her time to stroll around the room, picking out her favorite wine and helping herself to a glass. She sat herself down comfortably in one of the large lounge chairs, sitting back and crossing her legs. 

She’d always enjoyed her time spent in the manor, as short as that time was. Bey’ron had good taste in lavish decor, always ready to entertain guests. She sometimes wondered if he expected Lor’themar himself to show up at his doorstep. Even the room he’d given her to stay in had been one of the fanciest she’d ever had. A shame that didn’t last. They’d worked well together, the two of them, before her switch to the void and exile.

Water under the bridge now, as it were. The war between Alliance and Horde was over now. While Cebina’s presence still wasn’t welcomed in Quel’Thalas, travelling there was no longer as big of a risk; as long as she suppressed her Void powers and kept out of sight, of course.

She swirled the wine in her glass and sniffed the bouquet before taking a sip. Yes. She’d certainly missed this.

Her presence wasn’t lost on Bey’ron; nothing happened in his manor that he didn’t know about. Eyes everywhere… but he figured Cebina knew that as well. He cut his bath short as he sensed her presence once more in his house. While he didn’t feel in danger of anything she might do, his trust in her certainly took a dive following her last big revelation. He dried and dressed himself casually, paced calmly as he always did, before stepping into the room.

“Pour one for me too, hmm?” he instructed, nonchalantly.

Cebina smiled from her spot on the chair moving her hair over her shoulder to show off more of her chest. A natural reaction for her, even though she knew it had no effect on Bey’ron. She pointed towards the counter, where a second full glass of wine sat waiting for him.

“Way ahead of you, Sweetie,” she hummed, “How have you been, Bey Bey?”

“Mm… considering my home’s been invaded,” he narrowed his eyes at Cebina, “not terrible.”

He scooped his glass from the counter, swirling it gently as he approached the Ren’dorei intruder, uncertain at what brought her here. To gloat more, perhaps? He didn’t think she would have come here to kill him… but then the void did alter one’s mind, didn’t it? How far had her dark studies taken her…?

“Why are you here, Cebina?” he asked, bluntly, tone indicative he wasn’t interested in going through the usual foreplay. “Haven’t you caused me enough of a headache already?”

Cebina raised a brow as he skipped over the pleasantries. That wasn’t like him at all! Had the Knight Lord’s absence affected him that much? Had he actually cared about her? 

“Oh, Bey Bey, you know me. I only specialize in making people feel -good-. You won’t find any trouble coming from me. Unless... that’s what you’re looking for.”

She tipped her head back, taking a long sip of the wine from her glass.

“But, if you insist on getting straight to business, so be it. As you know, the war between Alliance and Horde has come to an end. While I’m aware my people are still shunned for our superiority, at least my presence here is no longer considered an act of war. With the armistice signed between the Alliance and Horde, I was hoping you and I could work out something similar. Past mishaps now water under the bridge, as it were, hmm?”

She took another sip, allowing Bey’ron some time to digest the information.

Bey’ron rolled his eyes. It felt good not to have to try and hide the expression, as he normally had to do in the Council chambers when some pompous nobleman spouted similar nonsense. “Superiority,” indeed. He scoffed, accenting the eye rolling to better convey how unimpressed he was by Cebina’s notion.

“You want back in, is that it? Tired of the humans already?” he smirked, throwing a light jab of his own. “If your kind are so superior, surely you wouldn’t feel a need to reestablish any manner of connections here. Armistice or not.”

He knew well why she’d returned now, of all times. The Armistice might have been a part of it, but Bey’ron had long suspected that Cebina had ties to the Twilight’s Hammer cult. A cult without any more Gods to cling to, as of late. No, he knew Cebina was only here playing nice because she’d lost a large chunk of support. A loss she hoped to make up for here.

“You’re after the arrangement I offered when I first dismissed you and your ‘superiority’, Cebina. And instead of keeping things pleasant between us, you opted instead to lash out.” he scolded her, still swirling his glass of wine. “What changed? Why are you suddenly so interested in rekindling our friendship, hmm?”

Cebina giggled, waving a hand in a dismissal of his words.

“Sweetie, please! Did you go soft while I was away? We were never friends, and you know it. Work partners, yes. Allies, yes. But don’t go pretending it was anything more than that.”

Her void filled gaze met his as she leaned forward in her chair.

“You know as well as I do that knowledge is power. And even the more superior of us need allies, especially in times of peace. Don’t you agree?”

His ear flickered; she was right. They were never really friends… so why did he phrase it in such a manner? Had loneliness tugged him off course of his goals? Had losing Ina’thia made him soft? His frown turned to a scowl at Cebina. Seeing her again had brought out many reminders of the past… including his dedication to his ambitions.

“Hmph. You’re splitting hairs. ‘Friendship’, as a generalized term of working well one with another. As in… not sabotaging one another’s projects.” Bey’ron snapped, fel flames in his eyes burning a little more intensely. “You’re reaching out for a hand you bit, Cebina. And you bit it hard. I had plans for the Phoenix Guard, and you crippled it. Killed it! Did you think I’d be so quick to forgive your childish maneuvers? Perhaps I have been too soft, letting a treacherous Old God underling like you breathe another breath of my Eversong air!”

He tossed his undrunk glass aside, letting it shatter in the corner. Portals began to open up all around the two elves, pouring chittering laughter and aggressive growls into the chamber from whatever dark dimensions lay beyond them. Demonic eyes peered in from the room, all fixated on Cebina. But nothing emerged… yet.

“Give me one good reason, Little Bird, why I should take you back.”

Cebina remained unfazed at Bey’ron’s show of force, her eyes glimmering with pride as they continued to burn into his. Her smile widened. 

“Because,” she stated simply, “You need someone to keep you on your toes.” She got up from the chair, letting her form fitting skirt brush the floor as she paced slowly.

“You’ve gone soft, Bey Bey. What I did was nothing compared to what your dear Knight Lord put you through, I’m sure. You let your guard down with her, didn’t you? Made yourself vulnerable. Now look at you, sulking in your manner and trying to pick up the pieces of what she left behind. Look at who you’ve surrounded yourself with. All soft.”

She stopped pacing a few feet in front of him, knowing well not to get too close to the Magister.

“Face it, Sweetie. You need me a lot more than I need you right now. You know it. And that is why you’re throwing this little temper tantrum, isn’t it?”

Bey’ron’s scowl turned to a smirk. He chuckled at Cebina, folding his arms behind his back as he did. The portals held position, though the snarling from within softened… yet the chittering laughter grew a bit more as if to join their master.

“Oh, I need you, is that it? That’s why you came here, then? You sensed how much I needed you? So you snuck in, seeking to restore our amicable arrangement? How kind of you, Little Bird.” he laughed on, tone clearly mocking. “You may be right; I’ve relaxed quite a bit, following your little stunt, and Ina’thia’s departure. You’ve done well in reminding me of that, tonight. But frankly… I can think of no other use I’d have for you. You think too highly of yourself if you presume you’re the only one who can, as you put it, ‘keep me on my toes’, hmm?”

A worthy attempt, he had to admit. But his wit hadn’t dulled quite that much since last they spoke. Cebina wouldn’t have come here just to rekindle a relationship unless she had something specific to gain in doing so. She’d caught him in an emotional state-- which was to say, she caught him actually feeling emotions. But that alone wasn’t her purpose in coming to him now. It seemed they ended up dancing around the heart of the matter, after all.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” he straightened, brow askew. “Why are you here, Cebina?”

“Hmm, much better,” Cebina grinned, “There’s the Bey-Bey I know! Don’t worry, I have no intentions of returning to Silvermoon or messing with whatever you’ve got going on with your little friends.”

She sauntered back to her chair, taking a sip and getting comfortable once more, pulling the skirt of her robes up to expose her thighs as she crossed her legs.

“I need a contact to keep me up to date on the going ons of Horde politics, as it were. In return, I’ll be certain to forward any information I come across from the  Alliance side. I’ve gotten quite close with some of the higher up politicians in Stormwind. In short, you have your goals and I have mine. As long as those goals don’t go against each other, there’s no reason we can’t go back to being respectful associates.”

“Mm, that depends entirely on what your goals actually are, doesn’t it?”

The Magister returned to the counter, and retrieved another glass since his last one broke. He didn’t bother glancing over to where he’d thrown it; it was already cleaned up anyway, the work of some Imp while no one was looking. He filled his new glass with wine, before turning back to his guest.

“It also depends on what manner of information you can provide. I’ve already arranged a few eyes and ears among your Alliance’s political players, and they’ve done well in feeding me useful little tidbits.” he explained as he, too, finally took a seat in a chair adjacent to Cebina’s. “I suppose you think you could do better, though? Provide me with more exclusive information?”

He grinned at the Ren’dorei.

“Let’s hear a sampling, hmm?”

“Oh, darling… you have NO idea.”

Cebina moved her hand, opening it palm up as a small void tear opened up just above it, depositing a scroll into her hand. She’d worked with Bey’ron long enough to know he wouldn’t take her at her word. He was MUCH smarter than that; one of the things she rather liked about him. Of course he would demand proof that she could procure information more valuable than his own men could gather. 

She held the parchment out for him to levitate over.

“I’ll let you read for yourself. Human men are simple creatures, and SO predictable, especially when it comes down to interacting with exotic women,” she grinned, tilting her head up proudly, not a hint of shame of how she used her body, “I think you’ll enjoy these little tidbits, especially certain secret outings the King has been making.”

The Magister couldn’t hide the intrigue on his face, as he read the scroll over. It was a mixed bag, certainly, with some bits of information much more useful and actionable than others. For now, anyway; Bey’ron learned long ago that sometimes the most innocuous details can bridge gaps in some of the darkest secrets. These outings of the Alliance’s Boy-King that Cebina alluded to, for example… they meant nothing for the moment. Just a piece of a puzzle Bey’ron could use later, when he found where it fit.

But he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“... Hmph. I suppose these have some merit.” he commented; such words meager approval from some, but high praise when coming from his lips. “If I did, perhaps, have use for information you’re willing to bring, what exactly would you wish in return? Bearing in mind, I am not as prone to betraying my kingdom as--”

He paused, gaze tracing over Cebina in silent judgment. A less-than subtle jab. He allowed the parchment to roll up once more, curling by virtue of having been rolled up before. He held it upright as a small portal opened above it-- and a tiny pair of imp hands reached down to snatch it away absconding with the paper to Sun-only-knows where.

“... Others.” he concluded his thought, smirking.

“Of course, of course,” she waved a hand, not seeming the least bit insulted by what Bey’ron insinuated.

Cebina had always joined causes out of convenience. She’d joined a number of houses and organizations during their rise, only to move on to another as she sensed they were about to fall. Her entire life had been about taking what she needed to further her own goals. Now wasn’t any different. She knew it. Bey’ron knew it. There was no point in pretending she ever cared for Quel’Thalas.

“Ever the loyalist, I remember. I would never ask you to betray your kingdom, Bey-Bey. I have no interest in playing with Sin’dorei affairs. However, a man of your elite stature certainly has spies dispatched throughout the other factions of the Horde, hmm? All I’m asking in return is that you share that intelligence with me.”

Bey’ron contemplated for a moment, eyeing Cebina over scrutinously. He was torn; at what point did benefiting the Void Elf become endangering the High Kingdom? It was easy to work with her before, when their goals coincided often. But he couldn’t imagine an instance where they would, now. The value of even small details cut both ways. What could he tell her that wouldn’t potentially come back detrimentally to Quel’Thalas? The secrets she was willing to share were, indeed, valuable to him. But at such a cost…?

No, the payoff was far greater than just a few meaningless details shared between the two. A truce was at stake-- a partnership with Cebina made her an ally once more, rather than the spiteful enemy she’d proven to be otherwise. It was a dangerous gambit, indeed. But he knew it was more beneficial to bring her to heel with a few tasty morsels of information than to let her run wild and lash out. 

“Mm. So be it.” he nodded, with a smirk. “We’ve worked well together in the past. If you’re ready to do so again, it would be in poor form for me to deny you the pleasure.”

He raised his glass to Cebina; a toast to seal the deal, and rekindle their partnership. It felt like the right move; after all, you keep your friends close.

And your enemies closer.

~*~*~

[thesuncouncil]

The Kaldorei Ambush!

[Beyron]: With a grunt, Bey'ron begins another incantation. The ground beneath Commander Stilloak begins to rumble, before exploding in a cataclysmic rupture! [The Sentinels]: Having just rolled to escape Nichaad's grip, Commander Stilloak's unable to get away in time! Fel fire burns her body, causing her to shriek! [The Sentinels]: Standing up, the Sentinel (circle) raises her bow. She fires a volley of arrows to rain down on the sin'dorei! [The Sentinels]: Arrows rain down, two of them striking Luminash, Bey'ron, and Syrielle each! [Ruthar]: Ruthar's ears flutter at the sound of the volley, all too familiar with Stilloak's tactics. He shifts up the ramp to get a better vantage point of her and this dangerous associate. [Luminash]: Luminash's prismatic shield came too late, solidifying around him as one arrow stuck in the back of his arm, the other in his leg. [The Sentinels]: Commander Stilloak staggers back in a huff! She looks rough, after the barrage of Arcane and fel magic that's hit her thus far! This seems like time to fall back! She turns to flee! [Syrielle]: Syrielle's next spell fizzles as she's hit. She cries out as an arrow lodges itself in her shoulder, and another in her side. [Beyron]: Bey'ron is struck in the back - another arrow driving clean through his left forearm! He collapses to his knees! [Luminash]: Staggering forward, Luminash shouts after Stilloak, "You will answer for this, Commander!" He lashes out with a whip-like bolt of energy, aiming for her legs to knock her down. [Luminash]: Stilloak's legs are caught with the bolt, knocking them out from under her and sending her tumbling to the ground. [Ruthar]: Ruthar quickly scans and realizes the last remaining quarry is behind him. He charges in an attempt to grapple and subdue without deadly force. [The Sentinels]: The Sentinel attempts to flee like her Commander does, but stumbles backwards and falls! Ouf!

[[Thought to be scattered by the Farstriders, a small contingent of remaining rogue Kaldorei crash a meeting at Everblaze Manor! The attendees do their best to thwart this unexpected attack, managing to subdue two of them for capture and questioning. But the elusive Commander Stilloak got away again... and clearly, her thirst for vengeance has yet to be quenched! Read the full logs right here to see how it all shook out! And shoutout for the special guest appearance of Ranger Captain Ruthar @ronaestrider! ]]

[luminashdawnwing]

🌺 for Bey'ron?

“Magister Everblaze is a tireless champion for the Sin’dorei. His efforts on behalf of Quel’Thalas are myriad, and I respect above all else his dedication to our people’s continued prosperity.”

(Long overdue... @thefugitivemango )

[gattius-starfrost]

Revelations

((Co-written with @kidcatgemini. Thanks to @crazyladyhorse​ for lending her aloof rogue, Akosua. Follows Shadows Keep You ))

Worry crept into Gattius’ mind after only a few days. Syrielle wasn't the sort to up and leave without warning. Even if she had urgent business in the city, or back in Dalaran, she was always good about letting Gattius know about it. And now, in her later stages of pregnancy, she definitely shouldn't have been teleporting off to Light-knows-where without telling her husband! One day without seeing her happened occasionally. Two was less common, but since her studies picked up lately, plausible. Three days… Something was wrong. It was very uncharacteristic for her - after all, someone had to feed her cats.

Gattius paced the library, worriedly. Reaching out to her via the signet yielded no reply. Had she taken it off? Was she in some place it didn't work, or was distorted? Maybe she passed out, tired from studying so hard. Maybe she had just become so enthralled in her studies that she took off her signet to better focus. It certainly seemed like something Bey'ron would make her do…

Bey'ron… Gattius scowled at even the thought of that slimy sleazy Magister. Syrielle had spent a lot of time with him recently, studying and learning theory of Pyromancy from him in her efforts to become an Archmage. Late nights in the library… lessons that left her exhausted and spent… he didn't want to believe Syrielle might have fallen into her old Dalaran ways again. But studying magic as seriously as she had back then could have rekindled that promiscuous desire in her again. But… she wouldn't, now. Even if she had such feelings, Gattius knew she'd just come home to find the release she needed. But Bey'ron… Gattius had yet to meet him, but he knew he must have be been alluring on some level. His charm had worked once before, on Ina’thia… was it possible he turned that charm on Syrielle? 

An attractive young pupil… a charismatic teacher…

--No! He shook his head furiously. Syrielle wouldn't do that! Gattius knew she'd changed for good, leaving behind that sort of lifestyle. She knew how much it hurt. A hurt she'd never inflict on Gattius. His ears wilted shamefully for even entertaining the thought!

But that still left his worries unanswered - where was she? Nothing made sense about it. Had he upset her somehow? Was she avoiding him on purpose? He started to think of ways he might’ve upset her recently. He hadn’t made any off-handed remarks at her. He tried to make sure she felt loved and wanted, even given how much time he'd been spending with the Commander lately, or off training by himself. What could've possibly upset her so much that she'd avoid him? Nothing came to mind.

If not intentionally…

Gattius smoked a cigarette, as he gazed out to the sea. He was thoughtful. Troubled… Akosua sighed as she slipped from the shadows beside him.

"Why does he smell so horrible? Hell, kodos are less stinky than that damned noble," she mused, approaching him before offering a respectful incline of her head - if only briefly.

"--There you are!" Gattius turned fully to Akosua, eyes wide and ears perked. “What've you learned? What else can you tell me?”

Akosua slowly shook her head and turned to face him, in return.

"Aye, sorry for vanishing for a bit. I figured it best to try and gather more information. As for what's been learned, I can inform you that the snake is plotting something and I'd be extra careful of him. Do whatever you can to keep Syrielle -away- from him."

“He's targeting Syrie? Why? Why would he target her?” Gattius frowned… answers to his own question flooding his mind. "For killing his bride, I'll bet. Or to get back at me!"

“...Think about it.” Akosua replied, pinning her ears a little. “What do you have that he doesn't?”

Gattius took a long, thoughtful pause. He exhaled a smoke-filled breath, contemplatively.

“He... you mentioned he still wants an heir. And that he knows about my... How does he know? Is he watching us?”

“Long story but it sure as hell wasn't from me.” she shrugged. “Look, just do what you can to keep his filthy hands off of her, alright?”

“I am.” Gattius nodded, firmly. “I'm tightening security around here. Stronger doors, shutters on the windows, and I'm having Syrie keep someone with her at all times. She's with the Commander, for now.”

“I just pray that's enough. If not I can't make promises on the fate of the snake.” Akosua sighed.

“You keep... saying that.” he frowned, eyeing the shadowblade over, appraisingly. "Are you planning to kill him?"

“He's playing a dangerous game here and I suspect he knows it. And for whatever reason if he doesn't know it then he's a bloody fool.” Akosua replied, cooly.

The Blood Knight grunted, and shook his head. He didn’t want it to go that far.

“Let me be clear - I despise the man. But I don't want you to kill him. You understand?”

“Tch, we're running out of options here.” Akosua protested. “What do you want to do then? Let him possibly risk trying something else down the road? You think he's really going to stop?”

He furrowed his brow, but said nothing as he puffed away thoughtfully at his cigarette.

“Gattius, he is a fool and a snake. And even if you cut off a snake's head it can still bite for a while after.”

“Ako, I'm NOT going to order an assassination on him! On anyone!” Gattius repeated, firmly. “He's a disgruntled old man, not an enemy of the Kingdom! Justice will be met, but I'm not going to preemptively have him killed just for plotting against me.”

Akosua pursed her lips and stiffled a low growl before slowly exhaling a calming breath, although barely.

"...He may not be an enemy to the Kingdom but he sure as hell is one to you and your family."

“Perhaps. But he hasn't done anything yet.” he sighed. “I appreciate you warning me, and I'll take every precaution I can.”

“Look, if you want me to continue spying and reporting back to you, I'll do that. However, I doubt the old man is going to ever stop trying to pull some sort of shit.” she warned. “What reason would he have to stop?”

“I would've thought he learned his lesson last time he tried to pull a stunt on me.” Gattius huffed. “But…You might be right."

Frustratedly, he shook his head - hands clenched, as he drew a deeper breath through his cigarette.

“All the same, don't kill him.” he sighed, hanging his head, ears wilting. “I... I can't have him killed. I just can't, Ako! I'm not that guy. As much as I despise him... As much torment as he's caused me, both growing up and now… He's still a Sin'dorei."

“A fool who is foolhardy never learns.” Akosua nearly began to curse under her breath but narrowly caught herself before sighing again. "Alright, fine. I won't end him. However, a snake may shed their skin but that still doesn't change what they are."

“I know. If he actually does anything... I have no problem meting out justice, myself.” Gattius replied, nodding firmly once more - the spark in his eyes affirming the truth in his words. “It's a tough spot. I don't want him to do anything - least of all to Syrielle, or my son. But until he does try something…”

Gattius’ eyes went wide, as his memory flooded back to him. How could he have forgotten the warning he'd received from Akosua? His father… Tharinel… of course! She’d warned him he might try something… but he was reluctant to act. And now… it had cost him!

It was a huge accusation, especially with no proof, other than the word of a shadowblade… but Gattius knew he'd taken her! He didn't know how, but he knew it! And he'd prove it, too - he grabbed his short sword from beside his nightstand, threw his cloak over his shoulders, and rushed out the door. He'd get to the bottom of this - right to the source!

It was time to make good on his promise of meting out justice.

[ronaestrider]

The Magister's Report

"Silvermoon Ranger says: "Straight and true, that's the way," repeats the dutiful Silvermoon ranger in Farstriders' Square.

Ruthar offers some advice to the young recruits. "Just a little firmer in the hand is all, and a touch higher. Once again."

“Or, set that silly stringed stick aside and study magic,” Bey'ron adds, smirking.

Ruthar looks over his spectacles to Bey'ron. "Ah, Lord Everblaze. Arcane shot comes a little later on, I'm afraid." He gives the Farstrider a pat on the shoulder. "Excuse me," he offers softly, shifting away from the training ground.

Bey'ron follows wordlessly, stepping aside and out of earshot of the fledgling Farstriders.

Ruthar nods respectfully in greeting. "I didn't expect to see you quite this soon, Magister. I hope all is moving along well?"

“Mm, quite well. Magistrix Starfrost finished her analysis of the ruby communicator.” Bey'ron holds out his hand, palm up. It's...empty. But not for long, as a flash of emerald flame briefly engulfs his hand, then vanishes leaving a miraculously un-singed scroll.

Ruthar watches as the scroll appears in the Magister's hand. "Lady Starfrost continues to amaze with her talents and expedience. Do send her my most sincere thanks for what must have been a laborious task." He looks down to the scroll. "Is this the full account or a summary of the findings?"

Bey'ron lifts and lowers the scroll, as if weighing it. It's... quite a roll of parchment. "I'm told it encapsulates everything. From the moment of desertion, to my encounter with her in Valdrakken."

Ruthar raises his hand. "May I?"

“I insist. I grow weary of holding it.”

Ruthar smirks at that, taking hold of the report. It is indeed a hefty heap of parchment. He gently removes the seal and takes a look at the first page to find the smallest of writing squeezed onto the pages. "Well, this will take some time to digest. I don't suppose the Magistrix offered you a summary before handing it over?"

“From what she told me... it's a rather boring read. Our wayward Farstrider friend spent most of her days wandering the wilderness. Restocking supplies every now and then, but nothing even remotely hinting at Alliance sympathies or connections.” Bey'ron shrugs, idly inspecting his gloves. "Four years of camping under the stars and drinking water from streams. Can you imagine such mind-numbing monotony?"

Ruthar doesn't seem as elated as one may expect at the news, his mind moving quickly. "It is hard to imagine, to be honest. A Farstrider of such skill and dedication shifting to a semi-nomadic lifestyle for an extended period." He holds the parchment up. "This report certainly holds the truth, in any case."

“Indeed. The mundane, boring truth. With how contrite and self-depreciative she was, I expected -something- compromising, if I'm being honest. I suppose her guilt really does stem from a betrayal of her sense of duty.” Bey'ron sighs, as if disappointed. "But not any -actual- betrayal."

Ruthar looks down to the scroll. "If one admits to defecting, you would think there would be a strong reason for it."

“Stronger than turning her back on her people? Her friends? Her mentor?”

Ruthar nods. "Indeed. I would expect there to be something truly weighty to cause such an act." He sighs. "Alas, here we are. She will still have to testify, of course. If, for some reason, these contents don't match her statements, that could be an entirely different situation."

Bey'ron raises his brow. "You think she may be lying about having kept the ruby on her person at all times?"

“I merely posit that there are many possibilities and factors to take into account. If she agrees to a hearing and her testimony matches the contents of the report quite effectively, then I think this matter could be resolved quite quickly.”

Bey'ron nods slowly. "Mm. So be it. I'll bring her to you this week, and we'll put this matter to rest once and for all."

“Is she currently in residence at your manor? I will have the Farstriders draft up a notice that will need to be sent her way informing her of next steps.”

“My manor? Certainly not. She's rather free-range, going where she pleases. I have my man Kynlea Sunstriker escorting her, keeping me apprised of her movements and locations. Last word I received this morning, she was in the Twilight Highlands.”

Ruthar nods. "Of course, though should I assume you have a way to get a missive into the hands of your agent Sunstriker?"

Bey'ron smirks. "Naturally."

Ruthar nods. "Very good, I'll have the missive sent your way for proper forwarding. Do you have the gem with you as well?"

“Mm, I do. Would you like to keep possession of it as well?”

“It could be considered evidence, so best to keep it paired with the report if possible.”

Bey'ron nods once. He snaps his fingers-- and a rift of darkness tears open beside him. Thannos materializes from the darkness, holding a small decorative box. The creature holds it out for Ruthar to take.

Ruthar looks to the formerly-bartending minion with a small hint of disappointment before reaching down to take the box. He lifts the lid to ensure that there is indeed the necklace in question within.

Bey'ron snaps again. Thannos emits a hollow echoing groan... before vanishing from sight! The box does, indeed, hold the ruby necklace in question.

Ruthar gently closes the lid. He opens to thank the creature but realizes it is now gone. "Excellent, it looks like everything is in order. Your work has been and continues to be of great service, Magister."

“Mm, I'm well aware. Magistrix Starfrost helped as well, of course. I'll pass along your appreciation.”

Ruthar nods. "Please do. I would imagine that you would both be encouraged to participate in the proceedings considering your involvement, should you be willing."

“I expected nothing less. In truth... I worry Miss Li-Mei will flounder and panic on her own before a Farstrider court. Given how generous and invested I am... I'm of a mind to serve as her Counsel in this matter.” Bey'ron sighs. "She's very obviously wracked with guilt. I've seen even the most stoic of Spellbreakers crumble and break down in testimonials. It's for the best, I think you'll agree. I imagine you'd wish to yourself, but... given your history with Miss Li-Mei and position among the Farstriders, such would appear... improper, hmm?”

Ruthar raises an eyebrow at that. "She would of course be welcome to include someone to serve on her behalf, though I'm not sure the Farstriders will see the one who reported her return and assigned her protection as impartial. Not to mention that she is in your service, now.”

Bey'ron smirks. "You're only pointing out further reasons it would be -prudent- for me to serve as her Counsel. She came to me, seeking guidance. She works under my employ. Counsel isn't meant to be impartial, Ranger Captain. That's the duty of those passing judgment.” Bey'ron chuckles, and shakes his head. "I'd be poor Counsel indeed, if I didn't argue from the grounds of her presumed innocence, don't you think?"

Ruthar taps his lips at that. "Perhaps," he offers. "I will pass such an offer along with the evidence. Should Li-Mei reply to the missive with a request for you to serve as her representative, then I am sure it will be fairly considered. Certainly your status in Silvermoon speaks volumes as well.”

“Of course. The decision is, ultimately, hers. Should she wish to represent herself in this matter, I'll merely attend.”

Ruthar nods. "We shall see how she replies to the proceedings. If her return to the ranks is truly what she desires, than I would expect nothing less than her full cooperation."

“Certainly so. I'll be sure to pass the summons along to her, through Sunstriker.”

Ruthar nods. "Excellent. I will get all this submitted presently. Is there anything else I can do for you this evening, Magister?"

Bey'ron shakes his head. "Nothing at present, no. But should something arise requiring your expertise or guidance, I'll not hesitate in asking." he smirks.

Ruthar removes his glasses. "Within reason, of course," he says, returning the smirk.

“Mm, of course. For now, harmonious cooperation between us is its own reward, don't you agree? Exemplary, even. If only it were so that the Magistry and Farstriders all worked together so well.”

“I do, and I do mean that sincerely. It is indeed great what can be achieved beyond the unfortunatley common pettiness.”

“All for the good of Quel'Thalas. Perhaps in time, such cohesion will be the rule, rather than the rare exception.” Bey'ron waves his hand, chuckling. "Ah, but we can wax philosophical another time. We both have much to do, yes?"

Ruthar nods. "We've come a long way, but there is always more work to be done. I appreciate your work setting such a strong example. I greatly look forward to continuing in kind. But yes, you are correct." He holds the report aloft with the box atop. "Much to do, indeed."

“I'll leave you to it, Farstrider Captain. Best wishes in reviewing that... verbose report.” Bey'ron stifles a chuckle. Barely. "Until we meet again, Sunwell guide."

Ruthar chuckles at that. "I've read worse. Sunwell guide, Magister. Do be on the lookout for the courier within the next few days."

Bey'ron bows his head politely, before turning to depart.

[inathia]

A Letter to Magister Everblaze

A small envelope is left at the front gate of the Everblaze Estate. It is left by a woman wearing plain clothes and a hood, who quickly departs by Thalassian charger after ensuring the letter's delivery. The envelope itself is barely larger than a note card, and sealed with red wax.

Bey'ron,

I have much to explain, and hope that you will hear me out over a glass of Eversong red. If not, I understand.

-Ina'thia

@thefugitivemango

[thefugitivemango]

Bey'ron "Why are you so afraid to be irrelevant?"

The Magister was silent a moment. His expression, though partially covered by his blindfold, was pridefully amused. A chuckle accompanied shaking his head, lips curled to his usual smirk.

“An utterly ridiculous notion. Why would I fear that which will never come to pass?”

[lordbeyron]

A Letter to the Front

Dearest Ina’thia,

May this letter find you in good health. I’ve grown concerned for you, hearing all that has transpired as of late. And while I have no doubt in your abilities to hold your own, I’m aware how battlefields can become chaotic very quickly - especially as of late. I advise caution, nothing more. All the same, do respond if you’re able. It’s the least you could do to quell my worries.

You’ll be happy to hear Proposal 113 was defeated, albeit narrowly. A triumph, yet overshadowed by the vote highlighting the rift growing within the council. This discord grows daily, as it does within the Horde overall. Troubling, but I don’t find it actionable just yet. You need not worry on it.

The ren’dorei assassination attempts have relaxed a great deal. I think they got the message that they cannot hide from the Eternal Sun. Not even in the shadows of the void. I’m certain you’re doing so already, but do kill any you come across for me. There remains one; a former colleague. She’s proven more cunning than I previously thought. I’ll fill you in about that later - a topic best discussed face to face. 

On the topic of ‘face to face’, do you know when you’ll next return to Silvermoon? It’s grown rather dull here in your absence. There aren’t many people with which it’s worth holding conversation around anymore. Inform me if you can when next I can expect you. Until then, may the Eternal Sun guide you. 

Yours cordially,

Bey’ron

(( @inathia ))

[kidcatgeminiart]

Lord Bey’ron Everblaze

Completed commission piece for @thefugitivemango of everyone’s favorite asshole Magister, Bey’ron Everblaze ( @lordbeyron ) alongside his strong and handsome son, Ember! This one was especially challenging, but I’m extremely happy and proud with how it turned out :D

Drawn and colored with Rebelle 3, Photoshop CS6 and Wacom Cintiq tablet.

~*~*~

Like what you see?

Buy me a Ko-fi to help me through art school! You can also find me on DeviantArt  and catch my art streams on Picarto!

[thefugitivemango]

Heart thingy for Bey’ron and Cebina

VISUAL ATTRACTIVENESS: 💗 "Ah, Cebina... she was the embodiment of perfection, once. Now, sadly, that Sun-sculpted body and all its perfect curvatures and proportions have been befouled. Tainted by the Void itself, reducing her grandeur to merely a darkened husk of her former beauty. Tragic, really...”

FRIENDSHIP LEVEL: 💗💗 “Recently-- but in no way publicly-- we’ve rekindled our former partnership. Granted, I wouldn’t trust her with half a coin from my coffers... but we’re at least amicable now. Keep your friends close... your enemies closer, hmm?”

SEXUAL DESIRE: 💔 “None whatsoever. Pitiful creature... A part of her usefulness came from her sexual prowess and desirability. And the humans she’s with now? Well... they have dreadfully low standards. I’m sure she’s getting along well enough. I can’t imagine she’s missing out on my account, and I’m rather happy for her in that regard.”

ROMANTIC INTENT: 💔  “Again... none whatsoever. Cebina may be an attractive vessel. Useful, too. But anyone who thinks she’s suitable for forming any manner of personal relationship - romantic or otherwise - is terribly delusional. To be blunt, Cebina will die as she lives; alone and devoid of any meaningful connection in her life. I pity any miscreant who would hope otherwise from her.”

[thefugitivemango]

Heart thingy for Bey’ron and Syrie.

VISUAL ATTRACTIVENESS: 💗💗💗💗 "Lady Starfrost has an allure fit for nobility. A keen eye for style, exhibiting a comfortable familiarity with the finer things life has to offer. I mean this sincerely; her appearance, and the pride she takes in it, is one of her best qualities.”

FRIENDSHIP LEVEL: 💗💗💗💗 “I like to think we’ve built a rapport over the years. I help her navigate the perilous nuances of nobility... and she helps scale down my words and intentions into something the more homely and modest citizens can understand. We work well, in that way.”

SEXUAL DESIRE: 💔 "Mm, I think not. Appealing as she surely is to others, I’ve no desire for nor intention to seek any ‘physical mingling’ with my protégé.”

ROMANTIC INTENT: 💗 “Hm... an interesting notion. She’s certainly bright enough to at least keep pace with me, intellectually. I wouldn’t dismiss the possibility outright, but it isn’t anything I’d manufacture between us.”