#Elliarie Newbury

[insecure-amphibian]

I got this idea from @vaard ! who drew their lovely draenei in a funko pop style... i definately don’t have the experience Vaard has in art but I also know they’ve probably been drawing longer than me so i won’t compare myself! Check out their art if you haven’t though!

AnywayI drew my old lady paladin in her guard uniform, in the funko pop style!

[insecure-amphibian]

Elliarie smiles, it clicking in her head the name of the woman in the courier as an author. "Yes there you go. The courier! That's where it's from! Elliarie Newbury. Very pleased to meet you." The woman offered a very friendly smile. Her brown eyes aglow with the prospect of meeting new people. Her hands crossed over her chest but not in an angered manner, just casually as she shifted her weight to one leg.

The Royal guard would tilt her head slightly at the woman. "I've heard of you.." Elliarie spoke.

Lat pauses to pivot on the sole of her foot so she can properly face the guard, noting her suit, her face and her listed rank before tucking a fist beneath her chin. “I…..Have you now? I suppose my reputation precedes me….then again, posting my face and name on the paper for over a year will get ya quite a bit of fame. So right pleasure…I’m Latilda Rommel…and you are, Miss….”

She makes a gesturing motion in hopes of inspiring Elliarie to respond in kind.

[insecure-amphibian]

Elliarie as Death Knight

The cold embrace of death. The gradual fading of everything, of warmth, of breath, of happiness, the cold of the snow in Northrend failed to chill her to the point that this did. But this was not cold, this had become nothing. This had become the end.

She didn’t remember when it happened. She had the scars from it, but all the woman remembered of who she was, was pain and sadness. The loss of someone who mattered so much to her, perhaps two people. It felt so long ago now. Maybe it was days ago, years ago, it didn’t matter now. At least it shouldn’t have. But now it did. A familiarity, a dread running through her veins as she walked through what she had once called home. Stormwind, where people threw garbage at her, called her a monster. She was. Few of her kind had walked this shame. That was true. Did she know these people? Did they know her? She thought she looked like she once had, even with her once warm ginger hair fading almost entirely to grey. It felt like a long dream. Like a trip she was dragged along with and felt nothing about. She felt no joy anymore, and despite the fact that she didn’t know where she was going, her feet seemed to walk a familiar path.

She was berated through the cathedral, threatened by the church goers to get out of this holy land. That she was no longer a wielder of the light. had she once been? She couldn’t recall. All she knew was that… The Lich King used her… her brothers and sisters, all used for his cause, stolen. Yeah, she was stolen. But from where? The answer would come to her though as she approached the tranquility of a graveyard. Families ignoring her as they mourned over what they had once thought was lost. Some of them weren’t lost, especially as more of her kind entered the city, flooding it like… a plague. Her feet had come to rest beyond a wall, hands resting on the stone that met her at her waist. Looking at a family. Two men, golden bands on each of their left hands. The Blonde one held a young child, her smile contagious even in this melancholy. It rose something in the woman. Perhaps a warmth of some sort. But it hurt to feel in her chest, it hurt to recall those times, when she held that child in her arms, who knew how long ago, pain in her hips with that child, fresh into the world wrapped in what was once her favorite blanket as she awaited her spouse to return from a long trip to Loarderon to aid with their newborn child.But he never came back.

That’s right, it was days after that the officer came knocking on her door. Her maternal leave still ongoing. That she invited him into her house for a warm cup of tea and to coo over the bundle of joy she had yet to name, waiting for her husband to help decide. It was as they looked over this child that looked so much like him, that the officer told her of the tragedy. She gave that child up… she went to Lordaeron praying that it couldn’t be true… and months into her search, Arthas came and the city fell.

“Alois..” She called, her breath turning to wisps as she spoke. The Blonde man looked at her, his face twitching for a moment, telling the young girl to pay attention the the brown haired one as he patted dirt and grass off of his commoners clothes. He seemed hesitant to speak to her. Weary… scared.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” His voice sounded defensive, protective of his family and ready to strike at the monster, and it felt as if it should have hurt. But it didn’t… she was just cold.

[insecure-amphibian]

The end of a long chapter

On mobile, so of course cannot 'read more' my apologies to my friends.

This is an arc ending for Elliarie where I finally make her retired and half her really be happy. She'll be around more often, just in casual clothes and ready to share war stories with any fool willing to talk to her.

@olliehaldstan and @nyura-shadowstep since you seem to like my writing so much.

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The trek to Duskwood had been a long one. Not just for time, but emotionally. Every thought that crossed the graying woman’s mind was something along the lines of ‘Go home and forget it.’, ‘You aren’t worthy of their time any more.’.

‘You still get to see her when she comes to stormwind.’ She pushed on.

‘Don’t ruin that much.’ She resisted.

‘He never wants to see you again.’ Her heart ached as she walked further

‘Just go sit by his grave and wait for the inevitable.’ it shouted in her head.

‘Die with honor. Die with pride. Die on the battlefield like he did.’ Apart of her agreed with it. It was what she should have done. She’d been apart of this war for over thirty years. She should end it on the battlefield like her husband had. But she couldn’t do that. Not to her brother, not to his kids.

Apart of Elliarie’s mind looked at this cold, dark, ghostly forest as the beautiful and lush one it had once been. It still heard the birds that chirped in the healthy green trees and the many travelers who came here to look upon the legendarily beautiful part of Elwynn Forest. Another part looked at the forest and saw it for what it was, cold, dark desolate. It chilled her to try and recall what had happened. But she didn’t have to as soon as parts of the ruin of Darkshire started peeking through the overgrowth.

How in the world her brother thought it was safe to raise a family here, she could never understand. Had it still been the lovely forest and gorgeous town it once was, perhaps she could put it together. But it wasn’t. It was dangerous.

Stone rubble marked a place that had once been so incredibly important to her, the cross that once stood so tall acted more as a gravestone to the sacred place where she had learned to be a priest. It stood on the edge of town. It was a forgotten grave after thirty or so years, and honestly, it was fair. There was clearly no good in the light forsaken place. Otherwise it wouldn’t look the way it did. It broke Elliarie’s heart to look at it. But she hadn’t been there to stop it from happening, she shouldn't be there to grieve.

The ruins of the church marked the edge of town, beyond the fallen stones barely stood run-down wooden homes, likely crawling with termites. The stone pathway riddled with grass and cracks and all kinds of signals of wear.  The Tavern looked lovely though. Perhaps because it was the only place that was commonly used by the people of Darkshire. For a moment Elliarie wondered if her brother was often there. But she knew Alois would never want to be like their father was. Not to his children.

The streets were nearly empty, not even lurkers looking to steal and ‘bargain’ walked the paths. Only the occasional under-dressed guard from the Night Watch passed through, casting skeptical, untrusting glares towards the old woman. It chilled Elliarie to her core, how these people could change so much. But the last time she had been here, felt like forever ago.

Across from the Tavern was a small place. A home with light smoke erupting from the chimney. It was maintained much better than the other homes on the edges of town. Not by much but they clearly tried. Newer planks of wood were nailed on top of old ones clearly covering holes, a thick cloth tarp sat over the roof shielding it from the elements as they likely couldn’t afford a whole new roof. On the other side of the windows sat cute homemade curtains made out of various fabric, none of which matched. But it gave them privacy. It almost looked the same from when it did when she was still young.

A deep breath escaped Elliarie’s lips as she approached the rotting steps, logs carefully cut and placed to replace what had been lost to time.  Her hand raised next to her cheek in a fist, ready to knock on a door that for a moment looked like it would cave in when she did. But instead she stood there, fear shaking her bones.

Perhaps she would have preferred it if she were to drop dead right there, if the cruel hand of fate would finally unleash it’s hold on her and not make her face the consequences of her actions. But she was soon pulled out of when a shriek sounded from behind the wooden home, the shriek of a young child.

Elliarie had drawn her sword, not willing to traverse Duskwood without protection, she ran from the stairs and sprinted past a corner and along side the long wall of the house, coming face to face with a well maintained gate and on the other side of it short fields of wheat and picked berries, far on the other side stood a line of about a dozen or so trees with apples growing on the limbs and several ladders leaning on the trunks. In the farm a little boy sat curled up. Elliarie knew him, he was a sweet boy, but what had done this to him.

“Phoenix!” She called out, vaulting over the gate and running through the crops careful not to trample them as she went to comfort the boy.

He was small, only about four years old. He had thick ashy brown curls and skin that had the vaguest of purple tints to his otherwise pale white skin. His longer years drooped down as he slowly walked back and forth and his usually cheerful round face was stained with tears and flushed to an almost violet hue, even managing to hide the scar that adorned a good chunk of his left face. His otherwise soft brown eyes were closed tight as if he was trying to hide from something.

Elliarie had soon approached the young boy, skidding to a halt through the dirt and swiftly clambering to get to the boy’s side, wrapping her arms around him and taking him into her lap.

“Oh Phoenix sweetie! What happened?” Elliarie cooed, rocking back and forth slowly while the boy sobbed. He opened his eyes just the smallest amounts to realize who it was, turning to look at Elliarie as he launched himself upwards and wrapped his arms around her neck and hung on as if it was the last time he’d ever see her. And through heavy, snot-filled, sobs he explained the ever so dire and world ending story that he had just experienced.

“I was d-doing my job and scaring the.. The birds. And… and and one of them. One of them it was flying right at me and. I.. I was thinking it was gonna… that, that is, that it was gonna poke my eyes out!” He stammered into her shirt. Elliarie patted the hal-elves back a few times, struggling to control her laughter.

"Oh no! Baby…." She said affectionately, her laughter barely escaping with the phrase. "It's okay, auntie Ellie is here now." Elliarie spoke, comforting him.

It wasn't long after that a man came running from further beyond the farm. He was tall and built well and had a strong face complemented by the long stubble of a beard that was just beginning to grow back. His striking blue eyes were filled with worry as he rushed towards Elliarie and picked up the half elf from his arms. Cradling the toddler in one arm as he helped Elliarie off the ground.

"Sweetie are you okay?" He asked, his voice clearly raised an octave as he spoke the the child. But Phoenix was unable to respond through sobs. "Ellie what happened?"

"I heard a shout while at the front door and came to his rescue. Apparently one of the birds scared him." She informed, her voice soft as to not tell the child that she didn't relay his story directly as told.

"Thank goodness. We were all finishing up the north fields harvest when we heard him shout. I thought he was closer than that. Oh I'm so embarrassed. I must look like a horrible father right now." He laughed uncomfortably as he went to support his sobbing son with both arms.

"You're fine Lucan. I'm sure the town wouldn't let anything happen to him. Besides he's so adventurous, he might have been right behind you but got distracted with his scarecrow duty." Elliarie chuckled, wrapping an arm around Lucan and giving him a hug. Lucan laughed along, unable to return the hug due to the child that was still calling upon the protection of his big strong dad .

"Are you just in town on guard duty or are you here with that company again?" Lucan asked, looking her up and down, realizing something was off with her more casual attire.

"Actually…" she started, nervously rubbing her hands together. "That's what I came here to talk to you and Alois about." But she wasn't able to elaborate as soon two girls had jailed the woman between their arms. Both were much taller than her five-four. The one in front of her had bold blonde hair and rested her chin on Ellie's head, her blue eyes closed right as she and her sister rocked her from side to side a few times.

"Aunt Ellie! It's so nice to see you again!" The blonde declared stepping back.

"By the light Scarlett! The last time I saw you was just a few months ago, you shouldn't be this tall already!" Elliarie proclaimed, to which Scarlett laughed. Elliarie turned around to face the other girl, she was shorter than her younger sister. Her hair was a deep black color and her eyes brown in color. Her freckled cheeks turned up with a beautiful smile. 

"Oh Solei! You too! Can you both stop growing and be short like your aunt?" She asked, reaching up to put an arm around both of their necks and bringing them down to eye level with her in an affectionate way. Giving them a tight squeeze around their shoulders before releasing them.

The last member of their lovely family as finally showed up. Shorter compared to the family, about five-six. His blonde hair was fairly short all around but longer on the top. His face was similarly structured to Elliarie, in that while long it was still fairly round and his tanned skin was dotted in far too many freckles. He was about seven years younger than his sister, but looked even younger when compared to her war torn age riddled features. His warm brown eyes looked at Elliarie with a cold glare.

"Good to see you're okay, Elliarie." He spoke, a passive aggressiveness in his tone as he approached his sister, arms folded over his chest.

"You too Alois. Really good to see that the family is doing well!" Elliarie laughed uncomfortably as she went on. "How's the harvest going?"

"We're done with the north fields. Just need to grab the bags and start on this one."  Alois responded rather dryly as he motioned around him at the wheat.

Lucan butted in, handing the now, much quieter, yet still sniffling, Phoenix to his oldest sister.

"Well in that case, Solei, Scarlett? Can you both take Phoenix and grab what we picked? I think your father, Ellie and I are gonna go inside for a bit." He spoke as the two girls nodded, carrying Phoenix off past the wheat crops as the three adults disappeared inside.

The small tired home was quite cozy. The wooden floor covered in a cacophony of rugs and carpets. A nice couch and a few done chairs faced the now dying fire as Lucan rushed to revive the flames and continue the warmth through the home. Alois had taken a seat on the couch, his husband joining him soon after with an uncomfortable smile on his face.

"Why did you come back?" Alois started. His tone much more outwardly hostile than it had been in front of the children. "After everything you've done this past year? Why do you come back now!"

Elliarie felt his anger. He was so rightfully so. Last time she had sat down to talk to him it was after their march on Lordaeron. He had every right to be angry about that. She didn't blame him anymore.

"It's not about Solei this time, Alois. I came here because I had time to think-"

"Had time to think did you? I sure as hell hope you did!" Alois' body language spoke as if he wanted to lunge at his sister, but Lucan's hand was interlaced with his. It seemed to calm at least his physical temper slightly.

"You didn't talk to us for nearly a year! This was… this was an important year! Your own daughter turned sixteen! We welcomed Phoenix into this family, and he'll you turned fifty! We thought you'd come by for at least one of those. But instead you wish Solei a happy birthday when she's in town on her own time and only meet Phoenix when he's taken to visit! The least you could have fucking done was respond to the letter we sent you!"

Alois raged on, his brows furrowed as he ranted. Each word aimed into her heart as a personal attack, and she sat in a stunned silence contemplating as he went on.

"I don't even care about the Solei thing anymore! I know that you know she's my daughter. I know that you would realize that I was right! That's not what I'm angry about anymore, I'm angry about the fact that you decided to be so goddamn petty about the whole entire thing that you cut me, my husband and our kids out of your life until it was convenient for you!" Alois had thrown his hands up and changed his tone to directly mock Elliarie.

"'Oh look at that, my nieces and nephew are in town! They can stay with me but as soon as they step outside the city gate, I don't know them anymore!' you got so wrapped up in a king that doesn't even know exist, that you forgot about your own fucking family Elliarie. You got so involved in grief for someone that died nearly sixteen years ago because you saw him when you should have been dead. You got so involved in a war that's killing our planet that you forgot about the only people you had left. And that is what I'm angry about Ellie. I don't care what need you have! I just want to know what went through your head to think that any of that was perfectly acceptable!"

Alois' speech had ended in a shout, his anger resonating through the room as he leaned back on the couch with a huff. Nestling next to his husband as he bravely kept his tears back. It broke Elliarie's heart. She had practically raised her brother for seven years after Grand Hamlet fell, and his stance… it felt like an adults. He was an adult. He wasn't the sobbing twelve-year-old he had been when she last really looked over him. He was an adult, with responsibilities, with a family and people that depended on him. He was right. What she had done was immature.

"You're absolutely right Alois. I shouldn't have done all that. You're my brother. I should have listened to you right after I told you about Lordaeron. I shouldn't have distanced myself as much as I did. But I can't take that back now. What I can do is come and make amends. And that's what I plan on doing." Elliarie paused, watching Alois' demeanor relax in the slightest of bits.

"That's why I came to tell you something." Elliarie paused, ruffling through a pocket on her pants and pulling out a detailed gorgeous pin in that of of a golden lions get with a silver and white banner draping from its mouth.

"Yesterday the rest of the royal guard thanked my for my years of service to Stormwind and I officially retired. I have the rest of my life ahead of me and that's why I want to spend it with you." Elliarie spoke with a smile on her cheeks, pinning the adornment to her left breast.

"But along side that I wanted to offer you two and your family a place in Stormwind. It's safer there, it's easier for your kids to get around, the people are lovely and there is this nice little place near the farm where the Kal'dorei stay. I've saved up so much from work and retirement and the odd jobs on the side. And I really, really want to make it up to you."

The two men seemed to be stunned for a moment. Lucan looked towards Alois and murmured something Elliarie tried very hard not to hear. Alois seemingly didn't respond to him, only turning to his sister and standing up.

"No. You don't get to do that Elliarie. Safer or not this is their home and we've gotten along just fine. You don't get to barge in here and suddenly try to be the good guy. If you want to repair this relationship, you're going to work. And the way you can start is by helping finish harvest." Alois spoke. His voice still the smallest bits cold towards his sister as he extended a hand.

"And you better believe if you're going to start making it up, you're living under my roof here in duskwood."

Elliarie took his hand, and with sudden strength was pulled into her brothers arms in a tight hug. Elliarie wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tight.

"I'll do whatever it takes, I promise. I missed you Ali."

"I missed you to Ellie."

[insecure-amphibian]

Making a friend

@nyura-shadowstep and @olliehaldstan because Nyura adores this AU and Ollie wanted to see. This is old writing but I still gotta post it again.

Elliarie knew for a fact that the day she submitted her request to her officer to join the Royal Guard, that she’d make it. She’d stand silently, loyally and with determination in the throne room to directly serve the king.

Years of serving the Alliance militia, as a healer, as a paladin had done her more than good on chances of getting the role, and this job was much simpler than her previous experience in the patrol. Stand around, protect the king. And most importantly right now, make sure no one that wasn’t authorized got in. 

She honestly didn’t know how long Varian Wrynn had been missing. No one gave clear answers it seemed. She wasn’t new to people not directly answering questions. She had been apart of the military for seventeen years. But she knew, none of the civilians were allowed to know. When she first was introduced to the royal guard barracks at the basement of the keep it irked her wrong. People sitting around, unarmed, unprepared, drunk off their asses and arguing. Men and women unqualified for the job who Elliarie at the time didn’t realize were hired just to keep suspicion off Lady Prestor’s back.

Somedays the job was easy. Stand around, keep an eye out, hold a sword at your side. Nothing ever went wrong in the keep. Bolvar Fordragon seated next to the child she never realized she’d call king in just a decade. 

Other days it was political mess after political mess with a stumbling, presumably orphaned child trying to find his father who was halfway across the world fighting gladiator battles under the lame Lo’gosh. No search party ever worked it seemed. They all worried about their king, desperately wanting the public to know about his disappearance but they... Couldn’t. Lady Prestor forbid it.

Most of her early weeks were a blur. Few things stood out. It was the same lame nothingness that lead her to crave the action on the Stormwind streets. It felt like she never left the keep, she was locked in a vast prison with hundreds of other useless guards, cut off from the world because some liar wanted to gain the trust of an eight-year-old boy.

Elliarie had always felt bad for him. He was young, too young to have a crown, even to understand most of what Fordragon told him about. His mother had died not too long ago, and now his father was gone. The child truly had nothing, and he was to be king.

One day she had been stationed outside of the map room. The king refusing to sit in the throne that belonged to his father while the adults argued about their next decision, not even taking into consideration the thoughts of the boy. Elliarie watched the child sneak through the small crowd of adults, arguing about where to look for Varian next. His face scrunched in some poorly articulated expression that conveyed anger and sadness. Looking back at the adults still practically screaming at each other in the keep, Elliarie tracked the boy as he slipped past the wall into the map room door right behind her.

For a minute her heart ached, fearing the child went away to break under the pressure of ruling far too young. Her face twisted into a worried expression as she darted back and forth between the men and women who had been advising him and the door that had softly clicked behind her. The guard to her left had long since dozed off into a fantasy land, staring blankly at the wall. For a moment she didn’t know if it was in her place to check on the prince, but an instinct she didn't know she had kicked in and forced her to leave her station. Sword lowered into its sheath silently as possible while tiptoeing ever so slowly to the door, only to open it, checking back at the people behind her, too focused on whatever it was they debated to notice the vanishing of not only the prince but a guard as well.

Through the crack she had so far pushed from the door she heard no sounds of sobbing, nor see the prince. Just the banners that decorated the grey walls and the grand map in the middle of the room, figures on it toppled over, others placed she could only assume strategically as markers for Horde and Alliance troops. Slowly the door creaked open and when it was just wide enough she put herself through it, armor only lightly touching the stone frame of the keep, leaving a small scratch on the back of her armor, which she ignored, favoring forcing the door closed as quickly as possible. The sound was soft. Inaudible to the people outside, but blaring loud to the silence of the map room. A rustle sounded to the left side of the room, the sound of things frantically being hidden away under shelves or behind curtains as Elliarie peered around, rounding the small inlet corner of the doorway to reveal Anduin Wrynn. He stood with his hands behind his back straight up looking Elliarie in the face with his best ‘not guilty’ face. His features still retained a bit of that anger he had left with, but we're poorly masked with doe-like eyes.

  “My apologies Prince Anduin. I wanted to make sure you weren't… upset. Please don't let me bother you. I just don't want you to be left unattended, I'm sure you understand.” Her voice was heavy with professionalism while still retaining a trace of that softness most adults spoke to children with. Elliarie nodded to the boy who softly nodded back, understanding as Elliarie moved back to the corner of the inlet, standing once again in front of the door, keeping a keen ear out on the young Prince.

For the most part there was silence. Before the rustling of curtains and the sound of struggle to grab something just out of reach. Elliarie paid no attention for a long while. What felt like hours went by, the faint sounds of argument still outside the wooden doors filled her ears. But more clearly the sound of wood and metal clashing each other and the soft voice of a young boy filled the map room air.

“What are we gonna do! We're surrounded!” He said in a high whisper, in his soft high-pitched child voice. 

“We're going to fight until the end! Stand ready!” He spoke in a separate modulated voice.

Elliarie peered around the corner, to see the blonde boy sitting on the ground, in front of him where a bunch of the figurines from the map table. Carefully crafted men on horses, Orcs on wolves, foot soldiers of both races, battleships strewn aside for later use of both factions and small color coded houses used to represent some sort of village or so she could imagine. Three of the alliance men, one of which on a horse were circled by the orc figurines both on and off mount with some of their war machines taking up the outermost circle. Anduin shifted each figure as they talked, side to side up and down and reenacted a grand battle where three men single handedly fought an entire army of Orcs. One by one each Orc figurine was knocked to its side by one of the three alliance figures. Though the practicality was off, the spirit was there and Elliarie couldn't help but admire the child acting out entire battles with just what he found in the map room.

She followed what she could of the story, three alliance soldiers who had been the last remaining of their squadron, Officer Pyre, and foot soldiers Quinton and Rascal as they bravely fought through waves of Orc, sparing their lives to make peace with the horde. At one point a third character was introduced, Mar'tag, a veteran orc soldier who shared their ideas of peace between Horde and Alliance and joined them on their journey. She picked up that this was a universe where Thrall was not leading the horde, and instead a tyrant he had simply called 'Warchief Proudwind'. What was a child playing became oddly investing to the woman, she hadn't caught herself staring at all, and she wasn't sure if Anduin had either.

But now she watched Anduin play. Soon the four men came to a grand city carefully set up. But a single orc stood in their way.

“By the order of the Warchief, we order you to stop! Mar'tag, you are a traitor to the horde, you and your friends are given one last chance to give up before you are killed!” Anduin yelled in a very breathy whisper, his voice low in attempt to be scary. Elliarie watched, unconsciously moving from her place, around the corner completely and sitting in the ground, leaning into her hands to watch.

“Gor'tag, brother you can't stop me or my friends! We don't want to hurt you!” He called in Mar'tag's voice.

“You're not my brother! There can not be peace with the Horde and Alliance! Stand down or face the wrath of Warchief Proudwind!” Gor'tag called out, and the group of three men had gasped.

“Mar'tag.. Warchief Proudwind is..”

“He's my brother… I tried so hard to show him the ways of peace.. but he never listened.” Mar'tag said turning to his companions. His features twisting into sorrow as once again he faced his brother.

“I do not want to fight you. If you must kill me, then let me die with honor. But peacefully talk to my friends. Please Gor'tag.”

“An Orc like you doesn't deserve honor!” shouted Gor'tag and he ran forward with his axe, swinging it into the air, and only a moment later Mar'tag's statuette lay on its side in front of Anduin.

Elliarie had sat back and gasped audibly. “He just kills him, like that?” She asked, startling the prince who jumped at the sound of her voice. His cheeks flushed red. Taking the figures of Pyre and Rascal and hiding them behind his back.

“I.. I'm sorry I know I'm not supposed to play with them it's just… I'll put them back right now!” The prince mumbled, bright blue eyes frantically looking between Elliarie and the figures as he scooped them up in his arms, but Elliarie put a hand out. 

“N-no.. Prince Anduin. I want to see how you finish the story.. it's okay really.” She spoke, her tone soft and welcoming now as Anduin looked at her and the figures in his hands and arms, before slowly sitting down and setting the scene back up, cautiously he picked up Pyre and Rascal again.. but he wouldn't speak, just held them quietly looking at the ground. Elliarie cocked her head, before realizing he was nervous. Slowly she scooted closer to him, legs crossed as best as possible in her armor as she picked up the figure that marked Gor'tag's position. Clearing her throat she deepened her voice as best she could and moved his figure from side to side.

“Now that he is out of my way, you three with fall against the might of Warchief Proudwind!” Gor'tag shouted, holding his axe to the air. “Lok'tar Ogar, death to the alliance!” As behind him hundreds of orc soldiers appeared through the city and gathered behind the Warchief.

For a long moment Pyre, Quinton and Rascal all paused. Hesitant as they decided how to react. But finally the three were comfortable. Pyre reared up on his horse. Sword raised in the air as he called “For Azeroth.” While Quinton and Rascal both joined in.

The battle was long and dramatic as the three Alliance fought hordes of... Horde. Slaying the charging soldiers one by one while all standing around the corpse of Mar'tag. When finally, the Horde soldiers realized they were outmatched and flead with their lives, and it was down to the trio and the Warchief.

“You damned Alliance dogs! You have no honor, no glory!” Gor’tag howled, holding his axe proudly, covered in bleeding wounds despite his clear loss he stood tall, refusing to bow.

“No Gor'tag. You killed your own brother who only wanted peace… you have no honor” spoke Quinton coldly.

“This is your last warning Warchief. Too much blood is on this land, on our blades and on our armor to be for nothing. Stand down or we will make you!” Pyre growled, hopping off his horse and pointing the very top of his blade towards Gor'tag.

Elliarie paused, looking at the figure she held in her hand and the three Anduin shifted between, as well as the many orc figures strewn across the map room floor. She paused, thinking what a great tyrant Warchief like the fictional Gor’tag would do in the face of death. Would he fall to his knees and accept his death? Would he mourn the loss of so many soldiers and be taken prisoner by these three soldiers? Elliarie would never be able to answer that question since the door to the map room was loudly pushed open and the shouting of a woman’s voice called through the keep. “Anduin! Oh, Light where are you!” A woman rounded the small inlet, looking right at the Guard and Prince. She was tall, slim and gorgeous, her hair long and black as the deepest night, skin a deep tan and eyes a startling red. Katrana Prestor. The noblewoman who had gained the trust of everyone upon Varian’s disappearance. She was smart, she knew how to manipulate the people, how to get them to trust her. She didn’t come off as an evil woman though, just a little demanding. Katrana stopped, staring at Elliarie who had stood up and raised her hand to her forehead in a salute, her body standing tall and stiff.

“Apologies Lady Prestor. I saw Prince Anduin enter the Map room, and I left my post to watch over him.” Anduin had stood up, standing just slightly behind Elliarie looking at Katrana. The black haired woman approached the two and looked behind them at the scattered figures and looked down on Elliarie. The black haired woman was much taller than Elliarie at five foot four, and her red eyes glared with a passion and rage at the guard.

“You are a grown woman soldier. You should know better than to play with the map figures. All you’re doing is setting a bad example. I should have you fired for this, right here right now.” Prestor growled, but Anduin had stepped between the two women.

“N-No lady Prestor, I was playing with them...I-I asked her to play with me..” The young boy looked up to Katrana with stern but equally innocent blue eyes. But Elliarie would have none of it. 

“Prince Anduin you don’t have to lie for me. I set a bad example, I should take the punishment. Please just listen to Lady Prestor.” Elliarie spoke, not at all relaxing her stance, other than moving her arm to her side. Lady Prestor looked at her and raised a hand, Elliarie could clearly tell she was trying to keep herself from hitting the woman.

“Clean this up, soldier, now. I’ll deal with you later. Prince Anduin, get into the throne room, Fordragon needs to talk to you.” Anduin nodded, both his hands obediently behind his back as he followed Lady Prestor, who had put the tips of her fingers between his shoulder blades to guide him out, and Elliarie was left in the map room alone.

The mess the two had made was disrupted by Anduin crossing over them, Pyre Quinton and Rascal all knocked over as if they had been slain by some warchief named Prestor. The Orc bodies were far scattered across the ground. None of them were broken thankfully. And after a brief moment, she relaxed. Turning around to face the battlefield. Crouching down she gathered the figures into her arms, carefully balancing as many as she could into her arms before placing them on top of the map where she would organize them into their little bins later. Left on the floor last were the figures that represented Pyre, Quinton and Rascal, and beside them, the corpse of Mar’tag. Slowly she bent down, picking them up one by one and turning them over in their hands slowly, looking at each of them before letting them join the other statues of their type that they blended into perfectly. Gone from the imagination of both Elliarie and Anduin. The door to the map room was pushed open by the woman, she took one sweeping glance over the map room, the banners that decorated the grey walls and the grand map in the middle of the room, figures on it toppled over, others placed strategically as markers for Horde and Alliance troops. Slowly the door creaked open and when it was just wide enough she put herself through it, armor only lightly grazing the stone frame leading her to the throne room. She hadn’t noticed how dark it had gotten, the throne room was practically empty, torches lighting up the throne and illuminating a familiar figure in the middle of the room.

“Ms. Newbury.” Lady Prestor purred in a cynical tone. “Done cleaning I assume?” she asked, her red eyes practically glowing in the darkness of the keep. “I can tell you’re quite tired, but I’m sad to say you’re working a double shift. You’ll be at the station you unlawfully left, all night. And I am also very, very sorry to say that the guards' dinner is over. You’ll have to wait for the morning to eat, serve well and goodnight.” The dark hair woman spoke, turning around and walking towards what had been her bedroom since the disappearance of Varian, turning her head to make eye contact with Elliarie once again. “Don't do what you did today ever again, you're lucky you have a very loyal history to the Alliance. But this kindness won't happen again.” She growled, walking up the stairs, leaving her alone in the throne room. Guards were typically lessened in the nights, more were put outside the rooms of the royalty and nobles who called the keep their home, but the throne room was virtually empty most nights, and it was completely empty tonight.

A part of her knew she'd still be stuck here even if Anduin had taken the blame. Lady Prestor, while good at her job, was an awful piece of human in the mind to the lesser like Elliarie. She didn't have respect for people's feats, just their pockets and social status. But Elliarie refused to argue, not when it would put her entire career and life at stake. It would ruin her to even think about arguing with such a powerful woman. So she bit her tongue, stretched her arms, and stood her post.

The darkness of night casted a peaceful aroma all over the keep, but the breeze from the courtyard door that was just barely short of being completely closed filled the throne room. It chilled the woman to her deepest core, freezing the surface of her armor and nearly completely cutting out her personal body temperature. Long shifts were nothing new. Many were far too drunk to be able to stand their posts. So Elliarie dozed off, staring blankly at a wall trying to distract herself from the lull of sleep or call of cold. Her mind beckoned her into a state of waking unconsciousness, and before she realized she had stopped paying attention, the sun had crept into the furthest corners of the keep. Her mental clock had no clue what time it was, but she threw a useless guess at about late five o’ clock. A small rustling could be heard in the depths of the castle, light bumping of metal, likely from the guards getting ready for their posts and therefore allowing her to be dismissed and catch up on the sleep she had lost. Soon footsteps would lead men and women into the throne room and confirm Elliarie’s theory. None paid the tired woman any mind as they readied for the day, she was passed by other guards, dismissed by the higher-ups, snickering at the woman who stood with dignity, before finally, when sunlight had flooded nearly completely into the keep and the torches were put out, Bolvar Fordragon entered with the Prince, speaking to him about the days events.

Elliarie glanced at him and gave a slight smile before focusing back to the wall, she didn't see if he had seen her or not, but from the corner of her eye she could see him go to his spot on the throne room floor and listen to Bolvar, refusing to sit the throne once again. Through the bustle, she couldn't hear them speaking, but it wasn't long before she felt eyes on her. A part of her said it was Lady Prestors red gaze, so she merely stiffed and maintained her position, but a heartbeat later a familiar young voice peeped up.

“Excuse me, Ma'am. Regent Fordragon said I could dismiss you to the Barracks…” his voice dropped to a whisper. “I'm sorry you had to stay up all night… please get sleep.” He spoke, grabbing her hand and pushing something in it before letting go, smiling and nodding. Elliarie nodded, lifting her free hand to her forehead to salute the prince who had then turned heel, leaving Elliarie in her place where she drowsily made her way to the barracks. Alone in the hallway, she finally looked at what the prince had given her. It was a small familiar figure, wooden, intricately carved, it depicted an orc carrying a battle ax. On the round bottom of the statuette was a piece of paper attached crudely to it. Carefully she unfolded the note and read it, hiding the figure in a small bag on her waist so she could read.

“Gor'tag broke down knowing what he had done, how many he hurt and took the peace the humans offered. They burned all the soldiers and Mar'tag's bodies and finally Pyre, Quinton and Rascal went home to Stormwind with their families and Gor'tag helped make peace with the Horde and Alliance. Thank you for playing with me. I'm sorry you got in trouble.” The note was handwritten, the ink smudged and messy in developing handwriting so crucial to eight-year-olds and there was clearly a lot of love put into such a short letter. When she had gotten into the barracks and got to her small corner of the room she placed the figure and note in a bag sitting right under her bed and closed it tight, stripping her armor and crawling into the poorly maintained mattress she called her own, and very quickly sleep overcame her. And in her sleep, she dreamt of three familiar men, all on a journey to create peace on Azeroth.

[insecure-amphibian]

FC Prompt: Melissa O'Neil

Soleil Hayes - Human Priestess - NPC for Elliarie Newbury

The oldest of Elliarie’s Nieces, Soleil and Elliarie have a very close relationship as Elliarie has been helping her in her practice as a priestess. Soleil only knows Elliarie as her aunt, and is very proud of to have a strong woman be related to her.

Because of her two fathers, Elliarie was the only mother figure she ever really had in her life, and because of this she has an unconditional love to Ellie and looks up to her.

In reality Elliarie gave Soleil to her brother and brother-in-law after the death of her husband because she didn’t believe she could do it on her own and was in too bad of a mentality to reasonably care for a child.. However much she regrets her decision she can’t reasonably tell Soleil as it is against her brothers wishes. Despite this she still loves her as family.

[insecure-amphibian]

NPC Faceclaim Prompt — Jason Statham

Taldog Dimhandle - Dwarven Blacksmith - NPC for Elliarie Newbury

Taldog had been a long time member of the alliance, a skilled Blacksmith and was the godfather of Atticus Newburry, Elliarie's husband. When Elliarie first met him he demanded she wear actual armor rather than cloth because "If my boy 'ere is gonna marry a fragile lass like you, might as well keep ya' alive longer" though the couple were uncomfortable with the comment, Elliarie grew to appreciate Taldog like family.

When Atticus and Elliarie did get married, Taldog had gifted her sword to her as a wedding present and Elliarie still wields it today, and he even jokingly made a small shield as a gift for when Soleil was born.

Though their relationship was never the closest while Atticus was alive, they bonded progressively after Atticus' death. They still keep in touch now, and despite Elliarie aging, Taldog still treats her like a little girl.

[insecure-amphibian]

Elliarie Newbury, Paladin.

I told myself I was gonna shade this ages ago, but I didn’t so I’m just posting it with no reguard for it’s lack of a finished look.

[insecure-amphibian]

LFC/Character Roll

Hey, recently my main guild disbanded for internal reasons that doesn’t affect anyone outside of the guild. But because of that I now have characters with room for a guild! Or just other contact just because. I’m gonna post only the characters I’m most interested in using right now.

Elliarie Newbury - Paladin of the Alliance - Retired Royal Guard - Healer

Having served the alliance since she was eighteen, Elliarie has seen every war since the first and joined the Alliance as a young priestess after the Horde invaded and destroyed her home of Grand Hamlet in what is now known as Duskwood. It’s been thirty one years since and over time she has seen her place on the front lines, as a patrol for the city of Stormwind and over the past fifteen years she has protected the King of the Alliance. After many sacrifices in the form of her husband, daughter and right leg and just over three decades of service to the Alliance, the aging woman has found herself in retirement and resenting it. Though the reasons surrounding her retirement is quite unknown, she seems to be on good terms with the guard. Elliarie is currently offering her blade or healing abilities to anyone in need and is even able to provide her own armor. Her age brings stories and wise words, not to mention a lovely grandma who may very likely bake you cookies  You might find yourself needing to interact with her if:

You are going on a mission and require a healer or just some extra hands

You are in need of either motherly or medical(ly) care

You want to swap war stories

Jiahaou Petalkeeper - Isle Pandaren - Miss Quill Fur - Barkeep - Anchor Trading Co.

What kind of Pandaren doesn’t know how to cook? certainly not this one as Jiahaou Petalkeeper has brought with her, family secrets of generations from brewing and cooking alike. When she left the back of Shen-zin su, all seemed well until her balloon crashed in the far off isle of Kul’tiras. She has spent the past years living off of her own skills in such an alcohol-centric society. Due to misfortune followed by far too much luck landed her a curious location underneath the waves of the harbor, the Whales Belly was founded, but with chaos stirring in the Politics of Kul’tiras and the waves being kicked up by Naga activity, maintaining such a special place has been difficult. Jiahaou has been doing nothing in particular around Boralus, mostly enjoying her down time with her friends from Anchor Trading Co.  You might find yourself needing to interact with her if:

You need a gold ole’ fashioned drinking buddy

You are a fellow Pandaren, there really aren’t a lot of us

You would like to host an event at the Whales Belly

Whisela Stormcrest - Val’sharah Night Elf - Apprentice Druid of the Antler - Cripple

New and vulnerable, Whislea stumbles through life without entirely knowing what is going on at any given time. Being incredibly young to be alone, even for a night elf, Whisela struggles to make ends meet most of the time while working with the refugees and tends to stick by her lonesome while remaining in the public eye to avoid the attention of the wrong crowd. Despite her disability in the form of a leg currently suffering from necrosis in the nerves, she gets around in both life and health rather well. No matter what pathetic sight it could be she seems to get along with a smile (albeit a bit of a confused one) And optimism. I have a vague story and an end goal I would like to reach with this character! Please let me know if you'd be interested in helping me get there!  You might find yourself needing to interact with her if:

You need a naive clueless bystander to get away with something illegal

You are a fellow Druid of the Antler

You are one of the Teldrassil Refugees

Odarirus - Half Troll Half Night Elf - Game Hunter, Fur Trader - Menace to society - Trelf

Having recently come to Stormwind only after the start of the Blood War, Odarirus generally just struggles to function. With his big tusks that are just proportional to his massive height, the poor boy stands out. It doesn't help that within his first months in Stormwind he found himself under arrest for trespassing on a boat that was to sail for Boralus. He has been back in town for some time after serving a few weeks in shackles. But he is a good person, atleast he tries to be. He’s uncomfortable and shy around most people due to really feeling as if he doesn’t belong, and he only really gets along with his Spooky, oddly aware Raven, Morticia, and big, dumb stupid but loving bear, Gilligan.  You might find yourself needing to interact with him if:

You hunt witches, Morticia gives off a similar aura to the witches of Drustvar

You need to hunt or track a beast

You are a fellow half-breed