#Kal’dorei

[druidonity2]

OH May I ask what your headcanon dragon species are for each playable race? Or do you feel they differ? :0

Oooh okay uhh I have a few thoughts...

Considering my goal with this AU is mostly just to have fun and practice drawing/designing dragons, I havn’t really thought tooo hard about any serious headcanons for a dragon au, buuttt so far I do think i’ve realized a few things.

I’ve been approaching this less race by race and more individual character, where i take into account what flight the character has story with, what flight closely matches their powers, and just what colors that character shares design wise. (and then there are the two sen’dorei dragons based solely on mobs related to the race)

Wrynns, and stormwindians in general, i think of more as onyxian black dragons, because of their story being tied so closely. (it also makes it easy to flip their story, in that Onyxia is a cultist human who kills Varian’s mate and eggs and attempts to corrupt the only surviving whelp. Ive thought alot about this.)

Kal’dorei are very often green dragons, and for some reason I picture them all with long thin faces like alligators or crocodiles. 

Thrall is easily the black dragon aspect, but I had to ask a lot of people what they thought Baine was and I decided hes half black half green, but i’ve seen people go for red. Its funny how some characters are obvious (Jaina, blue) while others everyone says something different. Vol’jin is also one i’ve seen lots of differing answers on. 

Valeera i suppose is a red dragon with fel influence, but i didn't decide that until AFTER i drew her. I try to keep them recognizable, so I try not to switch their colors up to fit a certain flight if it doesn’t work. Im thinking about characters like Velen and I saw someone say a bronze dragon, and i can’t help but picture this old wise Crystalline-infused bronze with purple accents and like….ooh he’d look so cool. But he’d also be majority bronze in color? Maybe he should be stone drake…or like netherwing dragons just match dreanei so well. 

I’ve noticed of all flights the Bronze are the hardest to match characters too. I also want to draw someone as a fey dragon but I can't think of who would work well as one. 

Also something I think is interesting about this au is how it changes family dynamics. Like…Thrall, Baine, and Anduin are all black dragons. Do they have a closer relationship than canon, in which they view each other more akin to brothers? Looking at the Maw storyline again but this time Thrall and Baine have to rescue their brother, not just a friend. This time they're part of a flight known to be easily corruptable, how does that change things?

I feel like this dragon au is a gold mine and I hope other artists and writers join me in it cuz like....there is so much potential.

[unabashedrebel]

You never asked for this…but I asked Soriya so might as well turn it around and ask you.

Best prank you’ve pulled on your daughter.

“Uh, have you met my daughter? She literally started swinging after she realized I wasn’t going to stop jump scaring her.”

“Maybe that one time I told her that Kal’dorei are purple because they ate too many grapes and evolution took its course. The water bowl was kind of funny, but she turned that one around on me.”

He began to stroke his chin as he thought about it some more. Shrugging he surmised, “To be honest? She’s fun to mess with but I kind of refrain with her more then I do most. She likes to mess with me every waking moment of my life though. Guess she did pick up some of my traits,” a fond smile curled on his lips showing he wasn’t too upset with his little gremlin of a daughter.

{Thanks anon!}

[irishk0rn]

for @kaelsleftverdantsphere

thanks for getting me stuck with the brainrot. glad I finally got to write my(? I think??) day of the dead au ❤️

//

They had managed to sneak in. The archer’s must be tired today, to not see and shoot down a large satyr demon, one who’s holding a much smaller night elf.

Illidan gently landed in a corner of Orgrimmar as to not draw attention to himself or Jarod. He and Jarod were mutually friends again, slowly building their relationship back up. And Illidan knew. He knew about Jarod’s dear little lynx.

And Jarod knew about Illidan’s little sunbird.

“Someone’s on the surface,” said Dath’remar, getting the attention of his great grandson, and his son, Anasterian and Kael’thas Sunstrider.

“Night elves,” Anasterian said.

Both Dath’remar and Kael’thas tensed. Kael looked over at his great great grandfather and sighed. His eyes were big with sadness; Kael’thas always had a heartbreaking sad face. It was how he got what he wanted with Anasterian, sometimes. He would give him those big old doe eyes that nobody could say no to. But, when they are truly sad, is when they hurt the heart.

“Grandfather,” Kael said, “What night elves could possibly be here?”

“Not sure,” said his grandfather. “But I will go up first.”

And he did.

He froze in his undead tracks. Jarod Shadowsong.

The love of his life, the man he regretted leaving every day, the man he prayed to Belore for every day, the night elf he loved, had finally come for him.

He could hardly believe his eyes; were the Shadowlands playing a cruel trick on him? Just torture? He wanted to lunge forward — wrap Jarod in his arms, have Jarod pick him up and twirl around like they used to…

Jarod stared at Dath’remar. He knew to expect Dath’remar, but nothing prepared him for the feeling that coursed through his veins when he saw his precious little lynx.

He, instead, took the lunge forward for the blood elf, and scooped the slightly taller man into his arms. Dath’remar let out a silent sob as he was picked up and he wrapped his arms around Jarod’s shoulders.

“Jarod,” he begged, although he didn’t know what he was begging for. All he had wanted for years, wandering the plains of Bastion, was just to see his starlight again. Bastion had too much sun; he missed the moon of his night, his dear Shadowsong.

When Jarod cupped his face, he felt alive again. Like he was really here.

After the sensation was swept away for a few moments, he looked at the other night elf. Was he even a night elf, anymore? His demonic features were imbalanced with kal’dorei, and the first thought he would have is that this… thing was completely demonic.

He looked closer. The way the hair was worn, and the scar over his eye.

Illidan Stormrage.

“You,” he hissed, expression turning sour. It was concerning; Sunstriders weren’t meant to frown.

“Hello, Dath’remar,” Even Illidan’s voice changed. It was low and rumbly, almost completely different. Like he had matured, but in intimidation.

“What are you doing here?” Dath’remar spat, letting go of Jarod for a moment. “I swore to Belore to never see your face aga—”

“I am not here for you,” Illidan said, curtly. “Where is your grandson?”

Jarod’s eyes widened, seeing the angry look on his love’s face. “Dath’remar—”

The blood elf pulled completely away from Jarod to approach the demon hunter, whom he was very much shorter than. “Oh, no. You think I didn’t hear all about you, you bastard?”

As Kael’thas sobbed, he felt a hand on his shoulder. His hair stuck to his face from the tears. “I’m so sorry, grandfather, I failed our bloodline—”

“You did not, child,” Dath’remar nearly sneered, “He did.”

“It’s all my fault…”

His great great grandfather frowned. “Is that what they told you, little one? That it was your fault?”

Kael nodded somberly, not daring to look the other Sunstrider in the eye. He sniffled, and only looked up when Dath cupped his face and met his gaze. “You did your best. I’m proud,”

Kael’thas’s eyes welled up with tears again.

Illidan shifted awkwardly. “I didn’t do anything,”

Dath’remar gave him a stare that would have ended anyone else. “Exactly. All he wanted was for you to help him, like you promised, and not walk all over him like everyone else. But that is exactly what you did, Stormrage.”

Illidan looked down.

Kael’thas was now beside his great great grandfather. They looked almost exactly the same.

Illidan’s eye lights widened. “Angel,” he said, quietly. “Angel eyes, you came. I—”

“Shut up, Illidan. Why are you in Kalimdor?”

Illidan’s face fell. “I was hoping to see you, sunrise,”

Dath’remar turned his glare to Kael’thas. “Go back down. With Ana. Now. Go.”

Kael glared back. “I can make my own damn decisions,”

“One of your decisions was him.”

Kael’s face fell sadly, and he looked at Illidan again. The demon hunter was hiding again. His face has fallen previously, now it was back up, like he didn’t feel anything. It seemed he hadn’t broken that habit.

He strode over to him. “Illidan,” he said, taking his large claw in his own soft hand. “I didn’t think you would come for me. Not… after Tempest Keep…”

“I wanted to, Kael, I…”

“Shh. Don’t explain. I understand,”

Dath’remar hissed. “Kael’thas. You are choosing him? Again? After what he did?”

“I love him.”

Dath’remar looked disappointed. And that was like a gut punch. He watched as he strode over to Illidan himself, and stared at him for a moment. Then, before he could react, he reeled his arm back and smacked Illidan across the face.

Illidan didn’t even move or stagger, but his head snapped sideways in a way that looked especially painful. He turned his head back to the blood elves.

“I deserved that,”

Kael’thas smiled weakly at Illidan. “I’ve missed you, moonlight. Will you come for me soon?”

“Always, my sunbird,”

Dath’remar couldn’t hide his smile. His hate for Illidan could be put aside, as he saw Kael was just so happy to see Illidan. To be with him. To touch and see and hear him.

He looked at Jarod again and hugged him close, his heart swelling more than it ever had before. He gave a smile as bright as the sun and kissed him deeply, tenderly. Like he wouldn’t again for years.

And he probably wouldn’t. The hunger for him was almost insatiable as the kiss turned devouring before one of them had the courage to pull away, Death wasn’t sure which.

“I’ll wait for you, darling. My darling starlight.”

“I look forward to you, lynx,”

[micaaart]

Very old sketch of a night warrior Kal’dorei I never finished

[sekhisadventures]

Home Once More

The Dragon Isles, The Ohn’ahran Plains

It had been a long trek for the refugees, but they had followed Tyrandae’s guidance and left Stormwind for the Dragon Isles, being led by the centaur clans of the Plains to the westernmost edge of the island… and there stood a massive tree, a new world tree. Amirdrassil.

Fyrakk was no more, struck down by the combined might of the Alliance and Horde. In his defeat Amirdrassil had bloomed into brilliant life, emerging from the Dream and driving it’s roots deep into the waters near the home of dragonkind.

Among the elves was a man known as Redriel Stagswift. He had not been at Darkshore when the War of Thorns had destroyed his home which had saved his life but his daughter, his only family, had been among those in Darnassus.

He stood there, gazing at the tree that his people would now call home. Suddenly he froze, hearing a voice whispering in his ear. A small childlike voice, one he hadn’t heard in over six years now.

His eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open as a wisp flew towards him from the tree and circled around his body.

He tried to speak a few times, and on the third attempt he croaked out a name, “… Elyssa?”

A faint giggle was heard as the wisp bobbed infront of him.

He had not cried when he saw the destroyed husk of Teldrassil, or when he had met with the other refugees after fleeing Kalimdor for the safety of Stormwind City. The sheer shock and horror of all they had lost had been too great to face, but now his eyes filled with tears as his shoulders trembled.

Around him, other kal’dorei were experiencing the same. Amirdrassil, the world tree grown from the seed formed of the Tear of Elune in Ardenweald, housing the souls of all those night elves saved from the hellish realm known only as the Maw.

Now those souls were reunited with those who had survived Teldrassil's destruction. The world tree acting as a bridge between the Dream, Azeroth, and the Shadowlands. A window of life and death.

Redriel reached out and cupped his hands around the wisp's etherial form, tears running down his cheeks as he smiled at her. He told her all the things he had wished he'd said, all that he had wanted to say to his daughter, heedless of anyone who might overhear them.

After years of hurting, of regret, of what ifs and what could have beens and all those thoughts of how if he’d just done this instead… none of it mattered now. Finally, the hole in Redriel’s heart began to heal.

Standing back from the other elves was the druidess Shalandrae Deeproots, leaning against a tree with her arms folded over her torso and a satisfied smile on her face.

The druid looked up as she heard hoofbeats, seeing the familiar form of her partner Aziguni walking towards her. “So, what now Shalandrae? Will you stay with them?” she asked.

Shalandrae looked back at the crowd, cocking her head thoughtfully, then she reached behind her and took her staff from the holder on her back, examining it.

Journey’s End, carved from a tree grown by her own hands on the coast of Darkshore. Shaped and detailed by Nelen, her worgen friend. The wrappings shaped by Samantha, the void elf who had changed so much in the few years she’d known her. The gemstone eyes of the stag’s head cut and polished by Jaie, her pandaren friend who saved her the day Teldrassil burned in spite of all she’d done to stop her. The antlers forged by her closest friend of all, the dwarf Dareley Steelhammer, who she had grown to know as close as a brother since they had met in Northrend that fateful day.

The only ones who had not contributed were Zhan-min, who could not craft any of the components for it (but who had happily provided the drinks that Winter’s Veil,) and Aziguni, who she hadn’t met yet.

She looked at it, then back at the tree, then smiled and shook her head. “No. I will visit, of course… but…” she put her staff away, then stood up and stretched, “I already have a home, and its time I got back to it.” she nodded, turning to Aziguni. “Speaking of, since you probably don’t have quarters with the Explorer’s League since you quit… I’m sure we can squeeze in one more.” she grinned to the Draenei.

Aziguni smiled back, nodding gratefully. “I would like that very much Shalandrae.” she replied.

Some days later…

Nelen could have simply opened a portal back to Stormwind, but after all that had happened they felt a nice voyage at sea would be a good vacation. Their expedition to the Dragon Isles had put them in the path of a cult of fanatical shaman, their Primal Dragon masters, the legacy of Neltharion’s descent into becoming the monstrous Deathwing, and face to face with their old foes in the Druids of the Flame. In addition to all that they had been hounded continuously by Dissonantia and her demonic minions until they finally defeated her for good. They needed a break.

Eventually however, their ship made it to harbor in Stormwind and the group disembarked with their new member, heading through the city towards their home in Old Town.

“Ya’ll love it gal!” grinned Zhan-min. “It’ll be a bit snug with seven…” he paused, glancing to Muaaqi and Eochundo, Aziguni’s pantera and talbuk, “… er… nine I suppose…” he mumbled, then shrugged, “But its home.” he nodded.

Aziguni chuckled, “Oh I would not worry about them Zhan-min. My friends will not need to stay indoors, they can easily look after themselves in Elwynn Forest.” she nodded and, sure enough, as they passed the trade district she gave both animals one last loving touch on the heads, then clicked her tongue twice and nodded to the gates. The talbuk and panthera turned and raced off towards the woods, seeking out a place to stay until Aziguni needed them again.

Soon they had arrived at the house. It stood just as they’d left it, clearly no signs of having been broken into… though with the spells Nelen had cast before they left anyone who tried would find themselves suddenly much shorter… and woolier. Nelen dispelled the wards, then stood aside so Dareley could unlock the door.

“Right, here we are!” nodded the dwarf, “Home sweet ho-GUH!” he coughed as the door swung open and a cloud of dust billowed outwards.

The others stepped back as the small dust storm dispersed, letting out their own various comments, then the group peered inside. Finally Jaie spoke up, “Oh… right… guess we were gone for a long time huh?” she chuckled softly.

The interior of the house was just as they’d left it… save for the fact that nobody had been in there since they’d left for the Dragon Isles several months prior. Everything was covered in a coating of dust, and the ceilings were a nest of cobwebs. The candles in the wall scones had all burned down to nothing months ago, and the smell…

Nelen frowned, sniffing, “Eugh… what the fel is that?” he asked.

Shalandrae sniffed, “… er… Jaie, we had some leftover beef in the cold cellar when we left right?” she asked.

Jaie winced, “Oh… oh crap, yeah I salted it but with how long we were gone… oh man everything down there must’ve… aaaaaaaaugh!” she cringed, gripping her cheeks at the idea of what horrors awaited her in the cold cellar, “… we’ll have to haul it all out and throw it away.”

There was a moment of silence as the members of Avalon glanced at each other.

“… onetwothree not it!” exclaimed Samantha.

“Not it!” nodded Nelen, the smell overwhelming even in his human form.

“Not it!” snapped Shalandrae, her own sense of smell strong no matter what form he was in.

“Not it!” added Aziguni, who was quick on the uptake.

“Not it!” spat Dareley, the dwarf eyeing the mass of cobwebs above them. That smell likely called all sorts of vermin, which would explain those. Spiders could be a real problem, especially since some of the ones in Stormwind could easily get big enough to eat rats (though not as massive as the monsters in Duskwood and Westfall.)

“Not… uh…” mumbled Zhan-min, realizing he’d been too distracted by the smell of fermenting everything for a moment. “… aw crap.” he frowned, his shoulders sagging. “Right… well, better get it over with.” he sighed, adjusting his belt before he and Jaie made their way inside. The two tied pieces of cloth over their faces to help protect them from the smell, then descended.

A moment later Jaie’s voice came up the stairs, a string of rather colorful cursing in Pandaren before she shouted in Common, “… ITS MOVING!”

Nelen sighed and walked in, snapping his fingers at a broom which immediately shook the cobwebs off and began getting to work on the floors, then he pointed at a feather duster that shook itself clean as well, then began moving as if being held by an invisible person. “I’d better go check my tomes… last thing I want is to find out we got silverfish…” he frowned.

Sam made a face at that, “Oh shit. My wardrobe! If I see a single moth…” she snarled, rushing past the mage and up the stairs.

Dareley harrumphed and walked inside to examine his own quarters as well as Shalandrae and Aziguni shrugged at each other, then the night elf called in. “I’m going to go back to the Trade District and get some food for dinner everyone.”

A chorus of acknowledgement came from the others, as Jaie’s voice added from below, “We need EVERYTHING. If it wasn’t pickled it isn’t edible!”

The druidess snorted a bit, then closed the door and gave Aziguni an apologetic smile, “I suppose the tour will have to wait.” she said apologetically.

The draenei sighed, “Yes, well… it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen this happen. You should see the state of Brann’s quarters after we would get back from an Expedition. He needed to call for a priest from the Mystic Ward when he got back from Northrend just to deal with his laundry.” she grinned.

The druid laughed at that thought, then walked along beside her as a thought occurred to her.

It had been a long time since she’d truly laughed like that. Just allowed herself to feel that sort of relaxed happiness with another.

But now Amirdrassil stood tall over the coast of the Dragon Isles, a place for the kal’dorei to start anew. The worst of fires had engulfed Teldrassil, leaving nothing but a ruined husk… but now, at long last, the forest was regrowing once more.

So much had changed since the War of Thorns… but Azeroth was a world of changes. What would the next day bring? Only time would tell there.

Orgrimmar, a few weeks later.

It took longer for the Horde to arrive home, but then they had to sail across most of the known world to reach Durotar. Shortly after they arrived two people walked towards the barracks in the Valley of Honor.

Though there were three of them, but the third was just where he always was, snoozing away in the litter on his friend’s back.

As they drew close an orc in horde military colors looked up as he saw them heading his way. “Hm?” he grunted.

“Ahoy there.” grinned the taller of the two. Edwood Vargas nodded to the orcish man. “Good ta see ye again Krim.”

The orc smirked, “Aye, you too Edwood. Back from the Dragon Isles?” he asked. He and Edwood were drinking friends, but then Ed was a Kul’Tirian by birth (Forsaken by death) and Krim was a ranking member of the Horde’s navy, so they had quite a bit to talk about whenever they were both at the Broken Tusk.

“That we are, ‘n I got someone I’d like ta introduce ye to.” he grinned, gesturing to his companion.

The vulpera stepped forward, looking up at the orc. He felt a bit uncomfortable, remembering Zarg Bloodtusks, whose bones lay in a cave in the Azure Span after Jeemjazo had seen to his former abuser… but then he’d have to get used to the idea. After all, it was the Horde’s navy, of course there’d be orcs.

He nodded, then said, “Name’s Jeemjazo. I wanna enlist.”

The orc raised his eyebrow, “Hmm… got any experience on a ship vulpera?” he asked. A reasonable question. Most of the vulpera were desert dwellers after all, and knowledge of sailing was as useless in Vol’dun as a goblin sno-cone machine in Northrend.

Jeemjazo grinned, “Ten years o’ sailin’ around th’ seas with a band of arsehole pirates, but I’m quittin’ that ‘n goin’ straight.” he nodded.

The orc glanced at Edwood, who nodded as well in confirmation.

“Hrm… well, could always use a spare pair of hands, ‘n vulpera ones are small enough for the fiddly jobs…” he grunted, then took out a journal and flipped through it, “Right. Got a Forsaken vessel scheduled to make berth in Durotar next week, the Spirit of Silverpine. Captain is one Autumn Brokenbirth. Report there ‘n tell her Krim Deadblade sent you.” he nodded.

Jeemjazo swallowed a bit, then and snapped to attention, saluting the orc, “A-aye!” he replied.

The orc snorted but grinned at him. “If Ed says you’re good, I’ll take his word for it… but small or not we’ll expect you to pull your weight.”

Jeemjazo bristled at that, “Oi! I survived a decade of bein’ a cabin boy to a bastard of a Bloodsail captain! I can pull my weight ‘n th’ weight o’ th’ two arseholes next ta me!” he yipped, his tail thrashing behind him.

The orc raised his eyebrow at that, glancing again at Edwood. “Aye matey, I’ve seen th’ scars. Said he was th’ personal bitch o’ a pirate known as Captain Saltfang.” the Forsaken nodded.

This got the orc’s attention, “Really? Frederick Saltfang? That mangy mutt sunk two of our ships!” he glanced at Jeemjazo… but if he was a cabin boy then he was hardly at fault. They wouldn’t have him anywhere near the cannons during a raid. “… ‘n how did you get away from him?” he asked. He also knew that the only way a cabin boy normally got away from a Bloodsail was jumping overboard and taking their chances with the sharks, naga, or whatever else found them.

“Crashed into Dustwallow Marsh durin’ a yippin’ nasty storm. Killed most o’ th crew, ‘n I finished off Saltfang myself.” he nodded, then shrugged, “Eh, to be fair the storm did most of th’ work… crash left ‘im crippled, but I finished off th’ worgen or me name ain’t Jeemjazo.” he grinned.

Krim chuckled, “Good news for us, I thought it’d been a while since we had to tangle with that one. I believe you then vulpera, lets see how good you do on a proper ship.” he nodded.

Jeemjazo grinned back, then nodded and headed back towards the vulpera encampment with Edwood, “Drinks later?” said the Forsaken to the orc as they left.

The orc nodded eagerly, “Off duty in two hours!” he called back with a grin.

Sekhi’s family had returned from the Dragon Isles with them, their cart already having taken it’s usual spot in the ring of wagons that those vulpera who’d joined the Horde called home. Sekhi looked up from helping Atu, her father, with dinner and grinned, hearing Jeemjazo’s song. “So ya a sailor now?” she asked.

“Aye! Settin’ out with a Forsaken ship next week.” he grinned.

Neidhari smiled at him from her seat near the campfire, “At least this time I know where you’re going…” she chuckled.

Jeemjazo sighed and sat down next to his mother. “Mmmn, well… I’ll make port regular ‘n I’ll write when I can. Okay?” he nodded to her. He had felt sad to learn of his father’s death at the hands of the Faithless… but after years of being Saltfang’s slave he had long since resigned himself to never seeing any of them again, so the sting of loss hurt less. At least one of his parents survived, he reasoned.

Neidhari just chuckled and pulled her son into a hug. “I know you will.” she replied.

Sekhi smiled, watching them together, then looked up as the sun dipped under the horizon and the stars began to come out over Orgrimmar.

What a journey it had been… and it had all started when they had met up in Dalaran, and she’d heard Azeroth’s voice calling out in joy that her draconic children could return home.

In the Valley of Spirits Nitika sat before the waterfall, meditating on all that had happened. To an outside observer she was simply gazing into the cascade as if lost in thought, but in truth Dawnhoof and Darkhoof were having a conversation inside her mind. Darkhoof could feel as though something had changed, though she wasn't certain as to what... only that the whispers they had heard in Abberus hadn't seemed to have gone away even though they were home now.

At the Broken Tusk Edwood met up with Galdia, Mola'raum, and Laurelgosa (in her guise as Laura Brightflame.) The dracthyr was finding she enjoyed her visage more and more lately. Her true form was still important to her, but the visage was a form she chose for herself. It was an expression of who she was beyond her origins, and besides... some things were easier without wings knocking into shelves.

Eventually Krim joined them and the group shared tales of what they'd encountered in the Dragon Isles with the orcish sailor. Laurelgosa vouched for Jeemjazo as well, telling the orc how she had witnessed him dispatch several pirates by himself which definitely improved Krim's estimates of the vulpera. He made a point of passing that along to Jeemjazo's future captain. The seas of Azeroth were not always the safest of places, and a sailor who knew how to fight was a welcome addition to any crew.

North of the city, in Bilgewater Harbor, Grimo was in the offices of Savage United setting up a new display case on the wall. Inside it was Titanstrike, the rifle held in place by a pair of sturdy metal hooks. He closed and latched the cover on the case, the front of it reading 'In Case of Apocalypse Scenario, Break Glass.' Nearby hung a sturdy rubber hammer.

He nodded in a satisfied way, then sat down and got to work filling out the work orders to have the shop repaired. He hadn't gotten a chance to do more than put up plywood over the windows after Gremori and Az'arad attacked.

Stormwind City

The ruined food stores were replaced, the spoiled goods carted north to the farms in Stormwind for compost which was all they were good for now.

Inside Jaie was cooking dinner, the pandaren woman in her happy place now. She was a strong fighter of course, but cooking was a passion of her's, and there were few things that satisfied her more than knowing she filled someone's belly.

Zhan-min was slotting some bottles into a recently installed wine rack, having brewed up some new recipes with the goods they had left over from their time on the Dragon Isles. The ales seemed to glow with an inner light, the shaman's own touch on the drinks, as they sat on the racks waiting for their turn at the dinner table.

Above Shalandrae and Aziguni were settling into their new room, having traded with Dareley for his larger one (the dwarf had wound up with that one out of pure chance when they first got the house.) Shalandrae was stretched out on the plush sea of green carpets in the room in the form of a great cat, but not one made of wood and brambles anymore. Perhaps it was her time in the Emerald Dream, or perhaps it was something else, but she had taken the shape of a dreamsaber, a mix of the lush greenery and ancient wildlife of the Dream.

Next to her Aziguni was reviewing her notes from the isles. She had received a letter from Brann himself apologizing for what had happened on the isles and offering her a place back in the League... but Aziguni had declined for now. She had told him she was open to taking commissions, but she had already accepted a place somewhere else. Idly the draenei reached over and scratched Shalandrae behind her ear, the druidess purring loudly at the touch. Some reactions are just built into these bodies.

Samantha was in her room with a sewing kit, mending what outfits she could. Indeed, the moths had come during their absence, and while she was able to save some outfits others had to go for dusters. The void elf was NOT happy about this, just glad that her talents at leatherworking allowed her some skill at mending finer cloth but as for the moths there was no sign. If one were to venture into the Void the might notice a small swarm of very confused insects, though likely most had died there by now.

Dareley was in his new room, resting. He was still putting up a positive front, but it was clear that Dissonantia's final attack on him had hurt him worse than he was letting on. Though precisely how bad the dwarf wouldn't say.

Finally, Nelen wasn't home. Rather he had a book to return to the Stormwind City Orphanage. He was there now, seated in a large easy chair with the orphans around them telling them tales of what they had seen on the islands. He had promised to do so in exchange for borrowing the book, and he had to admit he was rather enjoying himself. It made him think of his own apprentice Leza, back in Orgrimmar by now, though they had regular lessons in Dalaran. He may be a member of the Alliance and her the Horde but that was mattering less these days.

With luck, that would remain so. Nelen certainly hoped it would. He was tired of the endless war between them, and there was so much more they could accomplish working together. The Alliance and Horde had stood side by side against Fyrakk and the other Incarnates and had bought another day for Azeroth.

He trusted his allies in Savage United (even Grimo would eventually do the right thing if it truly mattered, or if Nitika got ahold of his ears) and after Dissonantia's defeat he felt like they could do anything.

Somewhere else...

"Well, that all went to shit." frowned Gremori. She, Az'arad, and Cenoon were all hiding out in a remote corner of the Twisting Nether, debating what to do now.

"Mmm... too right. Mistress Dissonantia is no more." sighed Cenoon, checking his fingernails. "I mean, after what we saw its hardly surprising. Void corruption on that scale?" he shuddered, "Either she's dead, or 'Dissonantia' no longer exists as an individual being."

Az'arad just growled, fingering the blade of his axe. He had liked Dissonantia, she had been able to give him the carnage and opponents he desired. In the end, all the Wrathguard truly cared for was killing and strong enemies to fight.

Finally, Cenoon looked at the two of them. "So, what now? Unlimited Sin has lost half of it's numbers. No Dissonantia means that Quzgup and Xel'kek won't be joining us anytime soon." he pointed out. The imp and beholder would eventually revive in the Nether, but that could take years if not centuries.

Gremori stood up, then shrugged, "Eh, I dunno. Just stick together for now? Maybe find some backwater part of Azeroth to terrorize?" she suggested.

The two demons glanced at each other, then shrugged. "Eh, why not? I mean we do work well enough together. Besides, I have nothing better to do but return to my homeworld and its dreadfully dull there..." he chuckled, "What say you Az'arad?" he asked.

The wrathguard stood, then sheathed his axe, "If there is blood to be shed, I will come." he grinned.

Gremori jumped a bit, "Wait, you can talk?!" she asked.

Cenoon nodded, "Oh of course, he just can't speak anything but demonic." the incubus explained.

Gremori nodded, "Huh... alright then. Well, lets go see what mischief we can get up to." she grinned, slipping her hands into her fel-infused fist weapons and punching a portal to Azeroth open as the two demons followed her. It would be less fun without the Witch of Blackwald Forest leading them, but they would make do.

Wintersky Estate, Silvermoon City

Alalestria paced in her study, her brow furrowed. She had learned the spells needed, surprisingly easy ones to learn infact though decidedly distasteful in their execution.

Below her, in the cellar, waited the main component. It had taken some effort to locate his final resting place on the Dragon Isles, and if she waited too long getting his soul back from the Shadowlands would be all the harder... but she needed him. As much as it galled her Sinranir Downstrider had proved far too useful an asset in the past to simply leave to rot in a shallow grave.

Still, at least she had no illusions about her sibling's prowess now. Sinranir was a trained and skilled assasssin, and those were clearly two dagger marks that had torn his side apart, leaving him to bleed out.

... and yet...

She sighed, "Anything to protect Quel'thalas... but... this is..." she glanced at the tome laid out on the table in her study. The shining rosewood inlaid with the golden falcon of the Sin'dorei people, but the book on top of it harshly contrasted that. A large book bound in blackened leather that seemed to almost drink the light in around it, stitched together from what appeared to be the hides of several different creatures.

Alalestria knew what they were, the forward of the book was clear on that. It even had their names. She'd always wondered what had happened to that guard company. Well, apparently Dar'khan Drakthir had happened to them, rather violently.

She took a breath, "This is a harsh decision, but it is the right one. Sinranir is too useful to lose, and the defense of Quel'thalas needs an agent who can dispatch a void elf with plausible deniability... but..." she trailed off.

She remembered the reports of her father's demise at the hands of the fallen prince, Arthas Menethil, in the days before he became the Lich King. She remembered the whispers of what fate had befallen her mother as well. She never saw a body, but the maids had, and one of them never really recovered from it. Apparently there wasn't much of a body left after what the ghouls had done.

This was the same magic that had ended the lives of her parents, befouled the Sunwell, and almost destroyed Quel'thalas. Was it truly worth it?

She frowned, then turned her back to the tome and walked to the window, lost in thought.

Orgrimmar

Back in the Valley of Honor dinner was had, the night wore on, and finally Sekhi and her family retired to their wagon for bed. The shamaness laid down on her bedroll, hearing the familiar song of Durotar all around her. The deep metallic tones of earth and the soft gentle flutes of wind, the faint drums of the nearby ocean, and the fiery fiddle-like sound of the heat that warmed the red rocks during the day… drifting off to sleep from it all.

A moment later her eyes snapped open.

Sekhi was no longer in her wagon, or Orgrimmar, or Durotar even.

All around her was a deep endless cavern, the ceiling so high she couldn’t even see it… Suddenly her head snapped left, then right as she felt the fur on her hackles raise. She thought she heard things moving around her, just out of sight.

Her eyes were wide, her ears flicking back and forth as she instinctively drew her flute from her pouch. She tried to look around but saw only deep inky black shadows in all directions.

She whimpered, peering around at the darkness. She could swear she saw huge shapes in the gloom, the occasional flash of an eye lighting it up for a moment. She could barely make them out but something about how they moved put her in mind of massive insects... perhaps some kind of arachnid or giant spider.

Then she heard something, her ears immediately perking up.

“Huh? Who’s there?” she called out.

It came again, the shamaness padding along the path ahead after the source of the sound.

“Yeah! I hear ya! Who are ya?!” she yipped, the vulpera still hearing the movement in the shadows but this new sound overrode that fear. Something about it was so insistent, the voice carrying an urgency that the shamaness couldn't deny.

Finally, she stumbled to a halt at the edge of what appeared to be an underground cliff. She looked down, her ears folding back as her face was lit up by a glow as bright as the sun itself. Below her was… well… she didn’t know how to describe it. It was huge, big enough to fill the entire world! Suddenly, she heard it again... a voice, a musical call shining up from within what was below her...

HEAR ME.

Sekhi sat bolt upright on her bedroll, her heart pounding and her ears flattened against her head. Nearby she heard the faint snores of her father, her mother’s gentle breathing next to him as they slept on, and on her other side her twin siblings dozed together in their own bedroll.

“… a dream?” she whispered.

Then she heard a voice nearby.

Leza was sitting up in her own cot, wearing just a pullover top and shorts to bed, her eyes huge. “Sekhi… did ya hear it too?” she whispered.

Next Story

Previous Story

[fictionkinfessions]

…i apologize for the late “canon holidays” submission. i’m not able to front much. i understand if this gets put to the back end of the queue ^^;

winter veil was… well, a non-christian christmas. many different human holidays combined with at least two lunar-based elven winter festivals. (i say “elven” as both the sin’dorei and the kal’dorei had similar events.

personally, the two sides of my family celebrated with circlets of enchanted candles (the ellerians), and… well, my father didn’t make a big deal of the holiday, if i’m honest. the two of us exchanged gifts privately, but he was rarely the type for parties. after his return to the throne (long story, apologies to those who don’t know warcraft lore and have read this far regardless), he only really made quick appearances at them as a formality. he was a busy man.

it was a stressful time, the year after his death. now as the high king of an alliance, i realized why my father felt that the lavish parties were a waste of time. but i quickly delegated tasks and, sue me, i think it may have been a questline in some reality.

but all in all… it was worth it. after my abdication, i would return to the city every year to visit home. it was a very nice time of year.

-anduin “andrew” wrynn, fictive

🐸

[yaggydigital]

1k Giveaway Prize for @kyristana on Twitter.

Kyristana Autumnleaf is a Kal’dorei Druid

[joywindsong]

The Half Blood Mage Pt 2

The Backstory

Traditionally in night elf society, men are guided to the teachings of Cenarius while women are expected to follow the light of Elune. 

Vionira Moonwalker was one of the exceptions. Vionira showed a strong bond with nature early on in life. Born in Hyjal, she is relatively young compared to her peers. The Cenarion Circle was also hesitant about welcoming her into their ranks. After the Third War things were starting to change within the Cenarion Circle. Gender became less of an issue, as well as race. The tauren, who once followed Cenarius’ teachings but strayed away towards elemental magic, were in the process of reconnecting to druid teachings. This of course did not come without concerns.

The tauren were allied with the Horde. Even if they shared the same values in the teachings of Cenarius, they were standing by the same orcs who laid waste to sections of the sacred forests of Ashenvale during the third war. 

Vionira, like many of the Kal’dorei, was residing in Moonglade after the fallout of the war. Though she had years of experience as a druid, she was still treated as a novice and expected to attend training seminars far below her capabilities. One of the trainers was a Highmountain named Ualke. 

Ualke was a mysterious character. He resided with the Bloodhoof sharing his wisdom. Much of his teachings focused not on druidism purely, but the connection of mortals to the greater powers on Azeroth. Expertise that spanned across both druidism and shamanism made him a valuable resource in reintroducing the teachings of Cenarius to the tauren, aswell as reviving the practice of shamanism among the orcs and trolls of the Horde. Ualke regularly traveled to Moonglade with his tauren druid pupils, but he proposed to take it one step further. “Some of my students in shamanism are struggling to truly connect to the elements. It also seems that there is hesitation in my pupils in Moonglade to fully accept tauren druids. It would seem mutually beneficial to bring some of the orcs and trolls under my guidance to come to a haven of nature and allow everyone to co-exist.” Ualke would propose to the leadership in the Cenarion Circle. Reluctantly, Ualke was granted permission and the next time he came to Moonglade he brought along about a dozen students. A few druids, but mostly shaman. Some tauren, but several orcs and trolls as well. They were welcomed to the city of Nighthaven but of course stood out very clearly. Ualke had mostly brown fur with a gray mane and gray patches forming. His eyes became white as he grew old, his exact age unknown but his presence was that of a tauren in his physical prime, especially with antlers towering on top of his large frame. Mail shoulders over his ceremonial robes filled out his massive frame even more as his deep but raspy voice projected over the students before him in the forest of Moonglade. Students dressed in basic ceremonial robes sitting in the grass.

His parting words as he ended his lesson:

“Your connection to the forces of nature on Azeroth will only grow stronger if you accept your brothers and sisters regardless of race. Do not allow arbitrary political divisions in the world to make you bigoted. Elves were once trolls. Tauren were the first children of Cenarius. The orcs are our new brothers and sisters in Azeroth, and may not be the last. They breathe with the elements and the Earthmother, Elune, the same as us all. I ask that you not simply go your separate ways as I dismiss you. Please, intermingle. Understand each other. Strengthen your connection to the world around you. That is a greater lesson than I can bestow onto any of you.”

Vionira stood up and scanned around. She was a tall and toned elf with bobbed green hair, light purple skin that skewed almost pink, and dark purple markings that went down across her light blue eyes. She looked across the crowd and saw most of the students mingling within their own races or factions. So much for what their teacher asked of them. 

Across the way she noticed a tall troll with green skin and a shaved head. His tusks protruded from his face and he leaned back against a tree not speaking to anyone. Vionira took the opportunity to approach. “Hello. What is your name?” Vionira asked as intimately as she could. The troll looked down at her, he had a bit of height on her despite both being tall. “What it be to you? Old bull be preachin’ tales. Da’ elements be communin’ jus’ fine. No need’ta be friendly wit’ elves.” He dismissed.

“Well. What he said is true. Elves were once trolls, so in a way we’re kin.” Vionira lectured to the scoffing shaman. 

“Why ya’ tryin’ so hard? Ain't’ya elves be hatin’ us Horde?” “Well. I’m a druid first. I’ve also been a druid longer than anyone else in this group, and Ualke is the only instructor who actually says anything interesting. Your warchief also helped us greatly in defeating Archimonde at Hyjal. So, maybe some of you are alright.” Vionira says to the troll who blows air out of his nose. “Our Warchief do be great mon. Saved me from bein’ sacrificed by fish.” The troll chuckles. “Vionira Moonwalker, by the way.” Vionira smirks.

“Omaroku.” He tells her reluctantly. “When do you leave?” She asked. “I believe we be headin’ out at sunrise tomorrow.” Omaroku responded. “Any plans between now and then?” Vionira curiously asked. “Nope.” He answered. “Well, how would you like me to show you around?” Omaroku looked around and sighed. “Ain’ got nothin’ better to do.”

The pair split off from the group and start walking towards Nighthaven. “So’ya been a druid longest of everyone?” Omaroku questions the elf. “Of the novices. I’ve been a druid much longer than I’ve been in the Cenarion Circle. Traditionally women in our society are warriors or priestesses or sentinels. The men tend to be the druids but now it’s opening up more.” Vionira explains.

“Shamanism be new to me. I was jus’ a headhunter out on the isles I came from. Joinin’ the Horde bring new opportunities. Learnin’ ta’harness elements seem to offer more.” Omaroku explains. “You hunted heads?” she responds. “Eh, somethin’ like that. So ya’ be powerful?” 

“I would be more powerful if I got the chance to train at my level. But I’m stuck here for now. Until I can go out into the world and start really testing myself.” Vionira vents. “If ya powerful, show me.” The shaman challenges. “Excuse me?” Vionira is caught off guard. “Lemme see how great a druid’ya be, Vionira.” The troll crosses his arms. “Alright. Let’s go this way then.”

Vionira leads Omaroku off the trail and into a clearing in the woods a bit into the hills. Out of sight of the trail or the village. Vionira stands a few feet away with her hands out as Omaroku stands still in front of her. 

“Stay still and don’t struggle.” Omaroku raises an eyebrow at the elf's instructions as vines rise from the ground, entangling him. 

“What ya’be doin!” Omaroku hollers. “They only last a moment.” Vionira pants as the vines retreat from the thrashing limbs of the troll. “Dem’ vines got thorns!” Omaroku raises his forearm covered in scratches to the elf’s face. “Oh, sorry. Hold on.” Vionira’s hands glow and she casts a spell on Omaroku causing his wounds to quickly heal. “Hmm. Be an’interesting trick but what can’ya really be doin’ in battle?” The troll asks. “I don’t know how I’d demonstrate that. This is a peaceful haven for nature and beasts alike.” Vionira says, wiping sweat from her forehead.

“Ain’t tryna spar?” The troll teases. “I’m not sure you’d survive. Don’t wanna cause a war.” The druid retorts. “Ya’seem sure. Ain’t even seen me fight. Might surprise ya’.” Vionira laughs at the implication and Omaroku changes the subject. “Do be similar to elemental magic tho. Maybe the old bull be onto somethin’.” 

“Perhaps. Maybe that means you shouldn’t be so closed off to me just because I’m an elf.” Vionira says sitting down leaning against a tree root. “Ay, who be sayin’ I jus’ be closed off to elves. I ain’ one to go sharin’ everyting wit’ everyone.” Omaroku defends himself as Vionira motions for him to come sit with her. The troll obliges sitting a few feet away to keep his distance.

“Well, I personally hope that if you and your people are living in Kalimdor we can have peace. At least co-exist. For the good of Azeroth.” The night elf tries to explain to the troll who squares his shoulders away from her. “I jus’ want my people to survive. We been displaced enough in my life. The Horde offerin’ us a home when nobody else will. Same wit’ the tauren. All dis’ nature stuff, it be a means to an end.” Omaroku confesses. “A means to an end?” Vionira asking for elaboration. “I got a new home, new people, new nation. I ain’t strong enough to defend, but it be worth defendin’. I ain’t got the spirit of a berserker, ain’t got the patience of a priest, ain’t got the smarts to be a mage, and I ain’t so good wit’ tamin’ beasts. Elements be the only ting I feel I can understand enough to achieve the power I need ta’earn my keep.” Omaroku tells her. “I see.” Vionira scoots a bit closer. “I thought you were gonna say you just want to be strong, but it’s honorable that you have a purpose behind that. In a way you could connect that to all of Azeroth like Ualke says.” Vionira leans against the troll and points up generally at the trees. “I want to protect all of this, and coincidentally the nature I want to protect helps me in that purpose. Maybe the answer to harnessing the full power of the elements is to see how they allow your home to stand strong?” Vionira notices the feeling of warmth of her body touching his and sits back on her own. “Ya’know.” Omaroku chuckles “I was a bit inspired seein’ Thrall come in and fry dem fish up ta’help us. I guess the elements gave’im power to build us all up.” 

Omaroku looks over at Vionira and their eyes meet. 

He hasn’t looked directly at her so openly until now. Vionira looks away. The troll notices how smooth and soft her skin is and how delicate the features of her face are. His eyes wander down inspecting the shape of her body and Vionira peeks back over at him. “Excuse me. What do you think you’re looking at?” She scolds. “Ah, sorry.” Omaroku blushes looking forward. “Never seen’an elf up close before. At least not one not tryna kill me.” “Oh.” Vionira blushes looking at the toned muscular body of the troll. His face is much… cleaner than she would have expected. Her eyes are drawn to the long curved tusks coming from his mouth. “I’m sorry if this is strange but… could I touch them?” Vionira asks pointing to the corner of her mouth. Omaroku looks at her confused. “Uh. Sure.” He leans his face towards her. Vionira runs her fingers across his tusks. They look like they’d be more coarse but they’re smooth to the touch. As he leans forward her face gets closer to his, for a moment they gaze into each other's eyes. Vionira moves closer, angling her face between his tusks. Omaroku puts his hand on her cheek as she gets closer, gently and naturally guiding her face. Their lips touch.

[astralliswalking]

Character Profile

The Basics 

Name: Setharion Astrallis

Nickname: Seth only if you are considered a friend

Age: 12,120

Birthdate: June 1st

Race: Kal’dorei 

Gender: Male

Marital Status: Widowed 

Physical Appearance 

Hair: Waist long teal hair with silver streaks he wears in different styles

Eyes: Illusioned silver/ true color - rich amber color

Height: 8”

Build: Muscular 

Distinguishing Marks: 

Clean and faded slash mark over part of his face and nose

Broken runes on his forearms and back

Personal Information 

Profession: Researcher and Astromancer.

Hobbies: Reading, writing and researching. This again, but with music too. Attending events around Azeroth.

Skills: Many arcane talents. Balance druid abilities. Astral projection and walking. Star chart reader. (more tba)

Languages: Darnassian, Ancient Kal’dorei dialects, Thalassian, Shalassian, Titan, Draconic with some: Dwarvish, Orcish, Pandaren, Draenic

Residence: Temporary ones in Dalaran, Hyjal, Azsuna, Suramar

Birthplace: Azsuna

Relationships 

Spouse: Lania Mooncrest ( Deceased )

Children: Unknown

Parents: Radris and Malina Astrallis (Deceased)

Other Relatives: Many

Pets/Companions/Familiars: Arcane familiars

Created arcane image by the name of Silver

Sex & Romance 

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual, men preferring now. 

Preferred Emotional Role: submissive | dominant | switch

Preferred Sexual Role: submissive | dominant | switch

Libido: High

Turn-Ons: Confidence, Intelligence, Well-dressed, collars

Turnoffs: Disrespect, unfaithfulness, beastility, blood play

Love Language: Physical touch

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open-Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between (Realist) / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional Information 

Smoking Habit: Enjoys rarely

Drugs: Special circumstances

Alcohol: Moderate

Server: Wyrmrest Accord 

Possible Hooks

Setharion has an extensive history that dates all the way back to the proud Kaldorei Empire with his origins within Azsuna. He used to have ties with the noble society, the Highborne and then the Moon Guard. 

His areas of strength are in many arcane schools, but most predominant in Astromancy. His areas of study within the realm of Order and every aspect of divination and balance that he can absorb. He is adept at Astral travel and projection. 

[aethermage1]

Okay so. Ysera questline-

Ysera questline. Was. AWESOME. I finally got to doing it with my main and, while I don’t wanna treat on too many toes. I have concerns about Malfurion’s role. We’ve not seen anything he’s done since BFA so- There’s alot of questions about WHAT this guys been doing since then- or what happened. Point One: Illgynoth whisper from Legion. Let me post it here: “The vassal of life disguises treachery. Beware the eyes of green.” Mals eyes, a friend and I noticed, were R E A L L Y green. Like. Not naturey, it looked very fel-like imo at least. And Kal’dorei eyes not glowing? That’s a new one. It looked like a mimicry of a glow, not a true glow, similar to when you play in game with a Darkfallen.vs.Normal night elf. So onto my few theories on this- which could be rather interesting to see play out. 1. Teron Gorefiend. This guys- way too powerful not to be used. ANYWHERE, and yet he’s not been seen since BC? And seemingly Illidan had no idea that Teron was even working with him, there’s no mention in the novel. But we’re talking about a soul that can’t be destroyed, just hops between bodies. So- is it possible he possessed Mal for an attempt to gain power from within the shadowlands? (Much as I’d love to ignore SL lore. it’s here now, and likely not fully going away.) 2. We switched Malfurion to a dreadlord before we saw him come back. We have. Virtually no idea whats gone on for the kal’dorei-particularly Malfurion- from the end of BFA-now. Theres like...5 or so years. With 0 info. And dreadlords are making multiple moves at once. So- Was he switched and put into yet another coma-like state on azeroth? Seems a defeating purpose to swapping Ysera out, sure. But would make a more permanent reason for her to stay there in the future. Just a couple ideas I thought of anyway.

[lemonmancer]

Local kal’dorei looking for the perfect spot to take you on a date

[tindomielsilverthorn]

Slip Into The Dark

Anas kissed the top of her head, smiling down at her as he always did. His mate, Mehe, squeezed her hand and moved to take Anas’s instead. They said their goodbyes and stepped out the door, Mehe’s long tendril flipping the sign of their shop to closed before latching it with a soft click. 

Gathering up the sketchbooks, she placed them out neatly in the counter for the next day. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied a bit of red fabric, neatly folded at the far end of the room. On top lay a piece of paper, a note in Anas’s handwriting. A request to design a dress to match the embroidery design on the end of it. 

She set the note aside and unfolded the delicate sash. The ends were woven and stitched in an undulating pattern, deep blue and purples that drew in the eye. Niqi studied it, thinking she might likely be helping him replicate it, when it seemed to her the curls and waves began to move. The more she watched, the more hypnotic it became. 

In her mind, she saw Anas and Mehe, smiling at her, but the expression was wrong somehow. There was a sinister edge to it that she had not known from her two chosen brothers. The slender Kal’dorei began to laugh, but her mind warped it. His mirth was directed at her, a darkness that was not present in him in the past. Mehe’s hand reached out as though to grab at her. 

You can keep trying to make them happy, but they will betray you. Hurt you. Stop wasting your energy on the ones who don’t care. The whispers twisted in her mind, warping everything she tried to focus on. Her tendrils writhed across her shoulders. She sank to the floor, tears rolling down her cheeks. 

She squeezed her eyes shut, murmuring the mantra.  “The Shade speaks the lies we tell ourselves. The Shade speaks the lies we tell ourselves...” over and over. She took deep breaths, hoping to calm herself, but each breath brought and even deeper level of terror. “The Shade speaks the lies we tell ourselves. It can be quieted through careful diligence and focus.” She kept at it, rocking in place on the floor of the work area. 

“Tiny?” Heavy footsteps moved to her side. She looked up to see her husband, his lip curled up in a sneer. Large hands grasped her shoulders and she cried out. Her eyes rolled back, her whole body going limp. 

“Niqi! What’s wrong?” Ælithil gathered his tiny wife up into his arms and left the shop, kicking the door closed. Her constantly evolving wardrobe caused the sash that wrapped her waist to go completely unnoticed. Along her pale skin, hidden beneath her dress, flowing curls of darkness began to creep. They danced and flickered, the color shifting from the deeper black of night, to vibrant, rapturous purples creating a design that perfectly matched one she had seen just a little while earlier. 

Ælithil pulled them up onto his saber and held her close. “Come on, Tiny. Stay with me.” He took to the air, heading for help. 

[the-hive-tm]

nothing recent, but agaim, just keeping track of my old art

[irishk0rn]

Guilty

I don’t actually hate Cenarius, I just don’t particularly care for him or his character. He just happened to be the target of my negative projection as I project onto Illidan.

Trans Illidan fic.

//

Illidan was tired. He was tired of hiding who he was; hiding behind a name that wasn’t his, hiding inside of a body that didn’t belong to him. And his brother knew; at least his brother knew. He was proud of him, actually. That was a bit of reassurance — Hell, Malfurion even helped him pick a name. And it didn’t have any correlation to his assigned name. The beginning letters or sounds weren’t even the same.

He supposed the easiest course of action after telling his brother and his close friend, Tyrande (who also happened to be transgender? who knew!) was to tell his teacher, his mentor, Cenarius.

His brother had advised him to do so; his hunch was that Cenarius would understand and maybe teach him a more masculine themed program. The night elves, sadly, had really harshly engrained gender roles. Illidan knew that it certainly wasn’t easy for Tyrande to be herself — not even with the help of him and his brother. But she was a great woman. He loved her bravery…

Illidan felt alone, despite Malfurion being right behind him, telling him encouraging words. He couldn’t really hear them — he wasn’t tuning him out on purpose, but this looming sensation of fear and coldness weighted like chains upon his already torn heart.

“It’ll be alright, brother,” Malfurion said. It ran a good chill down Illidan’s spine to be called brother. It was one of the first steps Malfurion took for him. “I think Cenarius will understand…”

“... I can only hope,” Illidan muttered, continuing on his terrifying path to speak to his teacher.

Cenarius was reading a book in between teaching druids when Illidan approached him. Malfurion decided this moment was for them, so he stayed a small distance away. But he was close enough where his brother could see him and know he was there to support him. The dark haired sin’dorei took a deep inhale, swallowing his pride and nerves. The nerves cut his throat like a blade and when he tapped Cenarius on the shoulder, he was unable to speak for a moment, the sharp unforgiveness of his pride rendering him unable to do so.

Cenarius tore his gaze away from his book. “Yes, Zar’lyne, what is it?”

Illidan tensed at the use of his deadname. “I’m, um, I’ve something to tell you, teacher…”

He could barely speak. Cenarius closed his book and turned his full attention to Illidan, which made Illidan even more nervous; and he began to sweat — when he looked at his hands, bringing them up to fidget, they were trembling. Cenarius tilted his horned head. “What is it, my student?”

Illidan took in another exhale. “My name is Illidan and I— I am a man. No longer a Stormrage sister — but a Stormrage brother.”

Cenarius frowned, and it struck a wave of fear through his student’s body. Oh Gods, he thought, he’s disappointed.

“Oh,” his teacher uttered. “I see.”

The dark haired kal’dorei frowned at him and awaited more. More than a disappointed “oh” before Cenarius went back to his book. And for a few moments, nothing more came. He almost took it as a cue to walk away before his teacher spoke again.

“Well, Zar’lyne,” Cenarius said. His deadname was used deliberately this time, “think of this: what would Elune think?”

Illidan frowned. “Elune? I…”

“Consider the question, my student. What would she think of your pretending?”

The caster was now more confused than anything. Did Cenarius really some up what he had just confided as pretending?

He reached out to pat Illidan’s head, like a parent consoles a child, but Illidan leaned out of his reach. “No, don’t — why do you think—”

Cenarius got closer and leaned down to his level. “I know you want to be like your brother, little one. But this is not the way to go. I can’t help you if you continue this charade and Elune won’t be able to, either.

“You’re not him, and you can’t ever be. So he Zar’lyne, not… what was the alias? Illidan? Don’t be that.”

And, because he was in shock, Illidan just nodded before taking his leave. As he walked by his brother, Malfurion put a hand on his shoulder, midway through asking how it went, before Illidan shoved him off. He did it so hard that Malfurion even fell in the grass. He got up quickly, changing into his travel form to catch up with his brother.

—

Illidan was throwing things in his room now, and Malfurion was trying to calm him down. He was angry now.

“Brother, please, calm yourself — stop throwing your things!”

In defiance, Illidan threw a wooden bowl at Malfurion’s head. The other elf ducked and it smashed against the wall, breaking into pieces. Had it hit him, because it was thrown so hard, it could have knocked him unconscious.

“I hate Elune. I hope she falls from grace painfully!”

Illidan began to cuss in Darnassian, and Malfurion matched the languages. How could you say that? Malfurion asked him, ducking again when Illidan threw something else, but just at the wall. She must forsake me!

His brother frowned. Why would you say that? He was concerned of the cursing Illidan was doing of whom they worshipped, afraid he would suffer consequences for his rage driven words.

“She must!” Illidan now responded in common, “She must forsake me! She made me in the wrong body, and made me your sister!”

Malfurion blinked. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means, brother! I will never be on your level — I will always be in your shadow! I will always be known as your less talented sister before I fade into nothingness. I could save all of Azeroth and I will still only be remembered as ‘Malfurion’s sister’!”

His twin went over to him and put his hands on his shoulders. “Por’wyeun,” he said. It meant brother in Darnassian. Illidan swatted his hands away. “No. I can’t talk. Get out. Get out right now.”

Malfurion frowned, but obliged, and listened to the slam and lock of the door. Then he heard even more smashing and punching of the wall before his brother let out a rageful scream that would have shaken Elune herself. And it hurt his heart for his brother. Twins were connected to some degree, and could feel each other — feel their hurt. The pain was so strong in Illidan’s heart that it made Malfurion’s own chest ache with pain, so badly that he didn’t attend his class that evening.

His family was in pain and he didn’t understand how to help him. Should he stop showing his excellation just so Illidan could feel he had a chance? Should he give up in the name of his brother? Should he let Illidan earn it? He didn’t know.

All he knew is Illidan was hurting and he didn’t know how to help.

[honeybeeez]

feelin cute might decapitate some hordies later idk

[sekhisadventures]

Infinite Problems

The Legerdemain Lounge, Dalaran. Two Months After the Defeat of Fyrakk

Nelen sat at the long table, along with his other allies. Grimo was drinking down a large bottle of Kaja Cola as Nitika fidgeted in her seat next to him, the tauren’s eyes showing deep bags through her fur. Galdia was over at the bar trying to find anything that could even hope to give the ale-guzzling mag’har a buzz, and both Mola’raum and Ed were watching the exits as this conversation didn’t really concern them… at least, there was little they could contribute to it.

Seated alongside the others was Savage United’s newest member, the dracthyr Laurelgosa. She was currently in her humanoid guise of Laura Brightflame and she too looked as if she hadn’t been sleeping well. Sekhi was the worst out of them all though, the vulpera shamaness practically falling over in her chair from sheer exhaustion. Of all of them, she was the most sensitive to certain things, and what was happening was affecting her the worst.

On the other side were the members of Avalon. Jaie was doing well enough, but Zhan-min seemed rather more tired than he should be. Shalandrae was clearly troubled by something, though Aziguni seemed perfectly well other than her concern for her kal’dorei paramour. Dareley, however, looked exhausted. He could barely sit up, and he seemed on edge, which was worrying them all. During their decisive battle with Dissonantia, the Paladin had almost met his end… and while he claimed he was fine, others suspected that he was hiding something from them.

Well, others suspected… but Samantha knew damn well he was. Rather, Annulus knew he was… and the void being had told Sam. The rogue had kept quiet though, it wasn’t life threatening yet but should it turn for the worse she’d blab and let Dareley be angry with her.

Nelen was rather worn out as well… though he hadn’t realized it wasn’t simply a mage thing until his last teaching session with his apprentice, Sekhi’s sister Leza, who had mentioned that both she and her sister had been having vivid dreams lately.

A huge endless cavern, a massive glowing presence, and a voice.

“Hear me.”

As it turns out, they weren’t the only ones. Far from it.

“So… everyone knows why I’ve called a meeting today.” began Nelen. “Those of us who are magically or spiritually sensitive…” he glanced at the warlock and Death Knight at the doors, “… and who sleep… have been having strange dreams. I’ve looked into it back in Stormwind and its not just us. It seems that something is reaching out to, well, everyone it can… but nobody is really sure what it is.” he nodded.

Sekhi blinked slowly, nodding, “Mmm… ‘s ‘oth…” she mumbled sleepily, the vulpera swaying in her seat.

Nelen looked up at her as she almost fell over before Nitika caught her and straightened her up. “Sekhi?” he asked.

Sekhi snorted, then rubbed at her eyes, “Mnnnhhhhahhhhh…” she yawned hugely, her muzzle stretching out and her tongue curling, “S-sorry… but… pretty sure its Azeroth…” she clarified. “It… um… it definitely feels th' same...” she nodded.

Nelen frowned, “… that would explain why so many people are hearing it. If there’s one thing that could reach that many people across the world, well, it’s the world’s soul.” he nodded.

“Um… Nelen?” said Nitika, looking up at him, “That’s… um… not all of us have been having that dream.” said the Taureness, fidgeting a bit as she rested her hands on the table, her fingers running over her knuckles anxiously. “Darkhoof and I… we’ve been seeing something else.”

The others all looked at her, though Sam raised her eyebrow. She knew what Nitika was about to say, but thankfully Annulus was as territorial as ever and kept any malign influences out of ‘her territory.’

Nitika took a deep breath, “… I… remember those rumors we heard before we left Valdrakken? About how Iridikron was trying to get something to this person called ‘the harbinger?’ I think… I think we’ve been dreaming of them instead. They’re…” she shuddered, “I… I think I might recognize them.”

The others looked at the Tauren curiously, Dareley looking anxious as his hand went to his chest through his armor. “Go on, please.” asked Nelen.

“It… they… during the Legion’s invasion I was working with Velen at Netherlight Temple, and one of the priests there had this strange dagger. Everyone around it kept hearing whispers, a voice talking and urging us to…” she shook her head, “It doesn’t matter… the dagger vanished after that, until… well… when we all gathered against the Black Empire to drive back N’zoth, do you remember how Wrathion used a dagger on him to drain his power and force him into a form we could fight?” she asked.

The magus nodded, “Yeah, I heard about that.” he replied.

Nitika swallowed, “… I got a glimpse of it… and I would swear upon An’she’s name that it’s the same dagger… but the one he had was empty. I think…” she took a breath to steady herself, “I think the harbinger is whatever was inside it. The voice I hear in my dreams is the exact same one. I… I could never forget that voice.” she nodded.

Nelen frowned, sitting back down. “Hm… that’s bad… what in all the worlds could that thing be?” he murmured. “Everyone, I think we shou-…” he began, and then he stopped… and so did everything else.

The rest of Avalon and Savage United froze in place, Ed and Mola stood still as statues at the doors, Galdia was stuck mid-quaff of her ale, it was as if someone had hit the pause button on the entire bar!

Into the Lounge strode a tall shal’dorei man. Bald headed with a thin-cut black goatee and silver jewelry, a nobleman of Suramar in all his purple finery. Sheathed at his hip was a sword of draconic design and held in his hand was a small hourglass.

“Well well, Magus Fullmoon and company…” he murmured, “Pity we have to meet again under such circumstances, your revelations regarding the threat on the Dragon Isles were very accurate. You spotted Raszageth even before I did, very commendable.”

The man moved towards Nelen’s frozen form, drawing his blade. It was a long copper-colored sword, and motes of sand seemed to fall from it. “However, after what I’ve discovered I’m afraid you and your allies are due to become a thorn in my side. We can’t be having that. My apologies…” he said, raising the sword… then freezing as he felt a blade against his throat.

“Lower your weapon, now.” hissed a feminine voice from behind him.

He carefully lowered the sword, daring a glance over his shoulder and saw Laura standing there. Sand swirled around her form, her body glowing with bronze magic. As soon as she’d recognized the feel of the spell affecting them her own powers had activated, drawing upon her ties to the Bronze Dragonflight and creating a shell of real time around her, protecting her from being frozen!

“Who are you and what do you want with my allies?” she demanded, narrowing her eyes as she bared her teeth, even in her visage form they were sharp all across her jaw.

“… an evoker… they didn’t have one of you last time.” he frowned, then he did the only option he had. He let go of the hourglass.

It tumbled out of his hand and smashed against the floor with a loud crash, and just like that the spell broke! Nelen unfroze, saw the blade next to him, and immediately blinked several feet in the opposite direction as the rest of his allies leapt out of their seats, all exhaustion forgotten!

Nelen raised his hands in a spellcasting gesture, then paused as he saw the man’s face. “Hey… wait, I know you! You’re that Nightborne I met back when we first arrived on the Dragon Isles! What are you playing at?!” he shouted as the bartender snapped out of her own time stop, saw the situation, and ducked down behind the counter to wait out the chaos.

The shal’dorei growled… then flexed his fingers as Laura’s skin tingled and she shouted, “RETREAT!” at the top of her lungs.

They needed no more warning. Laura was a dracthyr, one of the elite soldiers of Neltharion, she knew a threat when she saw one! The members of Avalon and Savage United all sprinted away from the nightborne man as the air around him suddenly turned grey, forming a massive orb that seemed to leech all color from the world around him, and soon he was standing on a pile of crumbled sand and dust where was once the floor of the Lounge. The table near him was missing a chunk out of it, cut away as cleanly as if by a blade, and one of the chairs was on it’s side as it now lacked two legs. Where those should have been was a pile of rotted ancient wood!

Nelen stared, then grimaced, “I know that kind of magic! That’s the same sort of spells that Ellisande used! You’re a Chronomancer!” he nodded firmly, readying a blast of arcane energy as the others prepared their own weapons and spells.

The elf smirked, “Messier than I would have liked… but if we must then so be it.” he nodded, raising his hand and preparing to channel a blast of entropy towards his foes… then he and Laurelgosa both felt something.

A strange attack, coming not from where, but from when!

“GOT YOU NOW YOU NASTY THIEF!” shouted a high pitched girl’s voice as a swirling vortex of sand appeared above him and and a gnomish girl with blonde hair and white robes burst out of it, aiming her staff at his head as sand swirled around the weapon's tip!

The chronomancer scowled, then darted away and slammed his hand against the wall of the bar. Cracks began to form almost immediately as the mortar and timbers aged thousands of years in a span of a few seconds, creating a gaping hole for the elf to flee through!

“Oh shoot!” huffed the gnome, “C’mon everyone! We gotta catch him before the Infinites help him escape!” she shouted as she leapt through the hole he’d left, racing away through the streets of Dalaran in pursuit!

Nelen stared, “Wait… what just…” he began, but Laura cut him off.

“Nelen! I know of this one! That is no gnome! Quickly!” she called out as she ran after her, the others all looking between themselves before rushing out of the inn as well!

The city was in a state of alarm. It seemed that the chronomancer didn’t care about upsetting the Council of… well… Five for Now (Khadgar hadn’t found a replacement for Kalecgos yet.) They rushed past several fossilized skeletons and mummified corpses bearing what was the finery of Dalaran’s guards, as well as signs of accelerated aging on various walls and obstacles, leaving a trail of destruction towards Krasus' Landing outside the city proper.

Nelen snarled and fell to all fours as fur erupted along his body, the magus transforming into a worgen to keep up with this unexpected assassin, Nitika’s longer stride allowing the tauren to easily match his pace, and Grimo had downed enough Kaja Cola to wire himself awake for a week so he had no issues there either. Sekhi was running quickly, but she was the most exhausted of all… she almost fell, but Nitika reached down and grabbed her, scooping the vulpera into her arms as she kept up the pursuit.

Samantha brought up their rear, the void elf easily sprinting after them as they made their way up the stairs to the landing to find the elf standing at the edge, a group of guardsmen and several adventurers having cornered him there.

“Stop! In the name of Nozdormu!” shouted the gnome as she reached the crowd, but the elf sneered and drew the strange sandy blade once more, slashing out and cutting two of the defenders across their arms.

They gasped at the pain, then suddenly their faces became expressions of horror as they stumbled back, clutching their heads. The others were momentarily taken aback at their reactions, and he wasted no time exploiting this, lashing out with his own power as bursts of pure entropy erupted from his fingertips. Wherever they hit, the defenders withered, arms becoming near skeletal, legs crumbling out from under them, and if it hit a vital spot it was as good as death. He blasted out again, but the gnome quickly raised her hands and slammed them together and a swirling barrier of sand appeared over the defenders, the entropic blasts shattering harmlessly against it.

“You can age things all you want Nyloc, but you can’t age away a whole millennium’s worth of energy that easily!” she taunted, “Now return what you stole!” she demanded.

The elf frowned, then paused as his ears twitched. He smirked, then stepped back and fell backwards off the landing! The gnome gasped in shock, then suddenly a long dark shape shot up over the edge! It was a dragon, a slitherdrake, but it’s scales were jet black and broken through by lines of pure white, its claws and underbelly glowing a pale glow. There was no mistaking it for those who knew, this dragon was of the Infinite Dragonflight, and seated on it’s back was the elven sorcerer!

“Your master wants his trinkets back Chromazdormu?” he sneered, “Come and take them then, if you dare!” he nodded, then he turned and shot away into the sky as the very air was rent open, a portal appearing. Not a normal one between places, but a swirling mass of sand and temporal energy! He was escaping through time itself!

“No! Get back here!” shouted the gnome, looking around, “Oh oh… um…” she hesitated, then she saw Nelen, Sam, Nitika, Grimo, and Sekhi reach the scene. “You! You’ll do!” she nodded before crouching down and leaping into the air. In a swirl of sand and light the gnome resumed her true form, becoming a massive bronze dragon! She swooped down and grabbed the members of Avalon and Savage United in her claws, then turned and raced towards the portal that Nyloc had ripped open. “Hang on everyone!” she shouted, flapping her wings.

Before Nelen and the others could even protest she was already in motion, aiming towards the chronomancer's escape route… but as she did something happened behind them.

“Hey! Where are you taking our friends?!” came Jaie’s voice, the Pandaren girl speeding after them on her flying disc as Laurelgosa raced along through the skies next to her, the dracthyr having changed back into her draconic form as well. Edwood was there as well, astride a steed made of felfire and rocks, like a horse shaped infernal, and Galdia was tearing along below them on Nightpelt.

“Jaie! This must be urgent! One such as Chromazdormu would not take them unless the situation was dire! Follow her!” shouted Laurelgosa as she angled her flight towards the portal.

Galdia snarled, then jumped off Nightpelt and shouted, “HEY! LAURELGOSA! HELP ME OUT HERE!” before crouching and leaping as mightily as she could. She was a warrior, and a warsong, and blindingly pissed that her drinking had been interrupted. She could leap rather impressive heights because of that.

The dracthyr swooped down and grabbed her outstretched arm, flapping her wings frantically to lift the heavy orc woman up as the dragon looked back, then at the portal, “W-wait, hang on! That’s too many!” she shouted, trying to turn around… but stopping in midair is difficult at best, and Laurelgosa was unbalanced!

“Uh oh… LOOK OUT!” shouted Jaie as she tried to angle her flying disc to slow her down, but she was going full tilt already. Edwood swore and pulled on his mount’s reigns, but it only reared and panicked!

With a tremendous crash the other members of Savage United and Avalon collided with Chromazdormu in midair, and all of them went crashing into Nyloc’s escape portal!

There was a massive shattering sound as the portal’s size ripped twice as wide, and the energies inside erupted into chaos! The world seemed to invert around them, and suddenly, with an echoing thunderclap, all of them vanished into the timeways of Azeroth!

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