#Mistpeak

[ariwa003]

More of our favorite Boulder!

[It's winter season and nothing speaks more to me "snow" and "cold" than Mountain Dwellers of Mistpeak! And especially our big guy Boulder! I just love his unique design and I had to draw him once more! ]

[aesfocus]

Mistpeak Valley

[cottonfluff-of-affection]

an anon walks to the goddess of affection with a gun and aims it at her

The Anon Is Forcefully Sat Infront Of A Campfire With- Eyes Lightly Glowing Beneath Their Eyelids

《 ... Hmm... Let's See... Ah, You Have A Firearm On You- Well- 》`

《 This Will Be Painful 》

The Gun In The Anon's Hand Explosed Bursting Their Hand Off Before It Remends In A Painful Process Before The Anon Is Forcefully Ejected From Mistpeak

[timesimmer]

The cobblestone streets of Mistpeak, once bustling with life, now seemed hushed and somber. Genevieve and Nehemiah moved through the crowds, their hearts heavy with the weight of their mission. Nehemiah, with his reputation as a skilled warrior and diplomat, managed to gain the trust of a few guards, convincing them of their urgent need to speak with King Duncan.

As they entered the grand hall, a hush fell over the room. King Duncan, a man of formidable presence, sat upon his throne, his gaze fixed upon the intruders. Recognition flickered in his eyes as he saw Genevieve.

"Genevieve," he murmured, his voice filled with surprise.

"Your Majesty," she replied, her voice trembling slightly. "We must speak, in private."

Duncan nodded, dismissing the guards. As they were left alone, Genevieve explained their desperate situation, revealing Philip's true intentions. Duncan, however, remained skeptical. The treaty between Aethelmark and Caledonia was a delicate matter, and the betrothal of Ceanna to his son, Ewan, was a crucial part of that alliance.

Genevieve, sensing his doubt, explained that Philip was a master of deception. He would stop at nothing to achieve his goals of taking over Caledonia, even if it meant sacrificing Ceanna. She offered her support, her wealth, and the loyalty of many in Aethelmark, promising to help Duncan remove Philip from the throne and to make her son Philip king.

As she spoke, Duncan's eyes narrowed, his gaze shifting to Nehemiah. A realization dawned upon him, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. The resemblance between Nehemiah and young Ceanna was undeniable. Genevieve nodded, confirming his suspicions. She reassured him that Ceanna was still of royal blood due to Genevieve's long ancestry.

At that moment, the doors swung open, and Ceanna entered the room. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw her mother. They embraced, tears of joy streaming down their faces. Ceanna's gaze then turned to Nehemiah, and a look of wonder passed over her face. It was the first time she had seen him since she was a child, and yet, a strange familiarity drew her to him.

Duncan, watching the tender reunion, smiled. Ceanna had brought joy to his court, and he had grown fond of her. He agreed to join forces with Genevieve, pledging his support to their cause. As he began to write letters to his allies, a new alliance was forged, a dangerous game of thrones was set in motion, and the fate of two kingdoms hung in the balance.

[ask-darkwood-hunter]

A large group of pink fluffy bipedal creatures wander with a large wagon of bodies and worms piled up- they wander through snaring and capturing anything that moves... they make their way to the snowy land of Mistpeak with the bounty of meat

Mind leaving some of the wild animals alone?!? Think of the damn food chain!

-there sitting on a tree branch stareing at them with their crossbow in hand.-

[kali-lamb]

"If the spider or fox won't get her the crazy pink fluffy bitch of mistpeak will- that woman is insane and creepy- fuckin millipedes make my skin crawl! what was her name again? silk? cotton? whatever the case I bet she will splice this little sheep- or if it is the fox- may his belly be her soul's new home"

[what, is this a refrence?!??!? im confused- who we be talking about ???]

[chillbo-jillbo]

Wait what 😭 is Mistpeak too???

i can’t remember where i found this but why is reaver hobbling around like this omg 😭😭🙏🙏

[felassanis]

I want more Sparrows that embrace their Dweller upbringing. They are such a kind and compassionate group of people and while Sparrow wasn't born to them, they were raised by them. And I think they'd be proud to have come from them.

[ghost-town-story]

Silence hung over the trio as they made their way through the tunnels, Jared leading the way, slowly winding their way up the inside of the mountain. Will hoped his brother knew what he was doing with this adventure.

Finally, the tunnel branched. The right hand path, Will knew, led towards one of the entrances near Malthea. The left hand path led further still up the mountain. Both had the taste of stale air that hadn’t been disturbed in months, if not years.

Without hesitation, Jared turned up the left hand path. “

Jared!” Mishal hissed. She hesitated nervously for a second before darting after him. “Jared, stop!”

Are you sure? Will asked, reaching out to stop Jared.

“You know as well as I do—”

I meant the weather. Will gave Jared a deadpan look. We got a late start. Fionn’s next will start soon.

“It’s five minutes to get up there,” Jared pointed out. “And it won’t take me long to prove my point. We can leave if Fionn starts up.”

It’s more of a compromise than Will expected from him, so he nodded and let Jared go.

“No way!” Mishal protested. “Jared, they’ll strike you down!”

Even with his back turned, Will knew Jared was rolling his eyes.

Just a few more minutes, Will said, trying to reassure her. Then we can head back to Althaan.

“Will—”

Trust me? Will held out a hand to Mishal. Ahead of them, Jared paused and half turned to look back at them.

Mishal hesitated. Will held her gaze, hoping that she still trusted him after all these years.

Finally, Mishal sighed and slid her hand into Will’s. Will squeezed it and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Jared took off again before anything else could be said, and Will tugged Mishal along behind him as he followed his brother into the old tunnel.

True to Jared’s prediction, about five minutes later they reached the end of the tunnel. They emerged into the back of a cave, weak winter sunlight flickering at the entrance. Just outside lay a large, flat field. Will knew from stories that in the summer the field was filled with a rainbow of flowers, but right now they were all dead and buried under the snow.

Mishal stopped just short of the entrance. “No,” she whispered. “No, I won’t—I can’t—Jared, get back here please!”

Jared, Will knew, was spitefully petty at times, and stalked further out into the field. For a moment, Will wondered if he was going to stop, but then he whirled around to face Will and Mishal. “Look,” he called over the rising wind, spreading his arms. “I’m fine.”

“Jared!” Mishal’s voice was strangled, her grip on Will’s hand tight in fear. Will knew better than to step between them though, even if it did feel like he was going to lose his fingers at this rate. “Please.”

Jared took another step back, then another. Spiteful, petty, proving his point.

“Will.” Mishal turned to Will. “Tell him to get back here, please. He’ll listen to you. Please, before it’s too late.”

Will let out a long breath. He didn’t quite agree with Jared’s methods, but he also knew that Jared wouldn’t be stooping this low if he hadn’t been pushed to the edge. Unfortunately, that left Will stuck in the middle like always. Apparently some things hadn’t changed.

“You know,” Jared said, interrupting Will before he could even find the words to say, “six years ago, I climbed Mistpeak.”

“You didn’t,” Mishal gasped.

Even at this distance, Will knew his brother well enough to picture the sardonic smile hiding behind his scarf. “I did. As close to the peak as I could. And do you know what I found there?”

Mishal didn’t answer, her gaze flickering between Jared and Will, silently begging Will to stop Jared. Will didn’t move. Ultimately, it would be easier to let Jared run out of steam first before trying to drag him back to Althaan. He just wished it didn’t involve hurting Mishal.

“Absolutely nothing,” Jared answered his own question. “No gods came to smite me, no gods came to answer me. Because they’re either dead or they don’t care about us, and I don’t care which one it is anymore.”

The wind crescendoed to a howl, and Will had a sudden dark feeling that something was wrong. Before he could even stop to think, he tore his hand out of Mishal’s grip and dashed for his brother, a lone dark spot against the bright snow.

He was too late.

The wind buffeted Will to a stop as Mishal screamed behind him, and Will helplessly watched as Jared tumbled from his feet and slid back towards the cave. With a splash of emerald magic, Jared skidded to a stop just before he crashed into Will.

“What the—”

The snow where Jared was just standing had been blown aside, and settled in its place was unmistakably a dragon, scales glittering like amethysts in the weak, patchy sunlight.

Jared paused partway through getting up, eyes wide at the sight in front of them. Will dropped to his knees next to his brother to take his hand, a reassurance that he was alive and alright. Jared squeezed his hand distractedly, palms trembling in a way that was almost reassuring in its familiarity.

You are correct, the dragon said, regarding the trio with a cool gaze. Though not quite in the way you think. Rather, there never were any gods on Stormking, or Mistpeak, or Sandmire.

Jared’s breath hitched. “It was you?”

Will wondered if he was imagining the amusement in the dragon’s expression. Not me specifically. But we dragons, yes.

Will’s entire body froze up as the dragon lowered her head to look Jared and Will in the eye. Jared shook enough for the both of them. But even if our homes on Mistpeak and Sandmire are long abandoned, you should still take care upon the slopes of Stormking. She reached forward, and Will managed half a strangled gasp as she pressed her nose to Jared and Will’s joined hands. Not all dragons are as willing to forgive you humans for what you’ve done to our kind.

The dragon pulled away and turned to Mishal, who had warily crept closer, if only to drag Jared and Will to their feet to run. Mishal took a half step back, but the dragon moved faster, ducking her head to nudge Mishal’s hand and leave behind a spot of amethyst.

Mishal looked down at her glove, then up at the dragon. “I thought these were cursed,” she said, her voice wavering.

Not when given willingly, the dragon answered. She stood up to her full height and spread her wings. Take care hatchlings. I will let Aiden know you are alright.

“Wait,” Jared started, but the dragon beat her wings, and his voice was lost in the rushing wind and snow. Will had enough foresight to half surge to his feet and grab Mishal by the arm before the snow completely obscured their vision.

When the snow finally settled, the trio found themselves alone in the field.

“She has Aiden,” Jared muttered, almost a question.

Apparently. Will released both Jared and Mishal to fully stand. I told you he was alive.

Jared looked up at the peak of Stormking as he slowly regained his feet. Will tugged at his wrist. He’s alright. We don’t need to climb Stormking for him to come back to us.

“Right.” Jared didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he tore his gaze away from the stormy mountain to look at his hand. Nestled in his palm were two amethyst scales, glinting weakly in the lighting. A glance over at Mishal revealed that she was holding a similar scale.

Jared took a deep breath, then dropped a scale in Will’s hand and closed his fingers over the remaining one. “There never were gods on Stormking,” he said, meeting Mishal’s eye. “So it’s up to us to save ourselves.”

[themasquemacabre]

Starter for @schattenmagier || Closed

     The road from Bowerstone to Brightwall was a well-traveled one, especially in the summer months when the snow and ice in the valley had melted away to reveal the stunning flowers and wind-swept grasses. Between students seeking a higher education at the Academy, Dweller caravans making their seasonal moves, traveling merchants carting wagons full of goods to and fro, and the occasional rich man seeking a sabbatical in the countryside, it was a wonder that the roads weren’t chock full of people 24/7. On this mid-morning, however, as the lone teacher made his way up the dirt path, the way seemed to be blissfully clear.      Xiro took in a big breath of fresh air, basking in its crisp fragrance. In all his years as the Jack of Blades, he never once thought he would come to appreciate the quiet peace he’d found here in Mistpeak Valley. And yet here he was, all these years later, marveling at nature’s beauty.       Much to his annoyance, that peace was soon interrupted by a shout from the woods. Bandits. Of course. The summer meant more of them, too. More cries from the tree line. He could never enjoy a moment alone, it seemed.      “People, people, always too many people!” he grumbled, stalking towards the forest’s edge. Might as well see what was happening. It’d give him an opportunity to bloody his blade, if nothing else. 

[cottonfluff-of-affection]

what theme would cotton's and alm's realms have? Maybe even your purple rare appearance wife.

(Purple rare is Shira-)

《 Hmm- Honestly, For Alm- And Mistic-Meadows, Bowerlake and it's variant themes by Russell Shaw From FABLE II 》

《 And for Me and Shira- And Mistpeak I would say Oakfield and it's variant themes by Russell Shaw From Also- FABLE II- 》

《 Now you may wonder why FABLE II?- And I answer that question with' "The music is fuckin good- and my childhood Nostalgia so get off my ass Because It Is- THAT GOOD. If You Played A Fable Game- You'd Know What I Mean-" Also if you like how they are making the new fable game . . . We will deny that game's existence because it is- It looks bad. WORSE THEN III. 》

[timesimmer]

The wedding of Princess Ceanna Stagfield and Prince Ewan of House Dalriada was a grand affair, a celebration of love and unity between the kingdoms of Aethelmark and Caledonia. The ceremony took place in the magnificent cathedral of Mistpeak, the heart of the Caledonian kingdom.

Guests from far and wide had gathered to witness the union of the two young royals. Among them were Ceanna's mother, Queen Genevieve of Aethelmark, and her companion, Sir Nehemiah Pearce, their presence a testament to the delicate peace that had been forged between these two families. Also in attendance were Prince Ewan's parents, King Duncan and Queen Moira, and his three younger sisters, Princess Fiona, Princess Alisa, and Princess Mary.

The cathedral was adorned with vibrant flowers and lush greenery, casting a spell of enchantment over the proceedings. As the ceremony commenced, the air was filled with the melodious chants of the choir, their voices echoing through the hallowed halls.

Ceanna, resplendent in a gown of shimmering silk and lace, walked down the aisle, her heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Her eyes met those of Prince Ewan, and a smile lit up his face. He looked every bit the dashing prince, his eyes twinkling with admiration.

The ceremony was a beautiful blend of tradition and heartfelt vows. As the priest pronounced them husband and wife, a wave of joy washed over the congregation. Confetti rained down from the balconies, and the air was filled with the sound of jubilant cheers.

After the ceremony, a lavish feast was held in the grand hall of the castle. Guests dined on sumptuous dishes, danced to lively music, and toasted the happy couple. Ceanna and Ewan moved gracefully among their guests, their faces radiating happiness.

As the night drew to a close, the newlyweds retired to their chambers, their hearts overflowing with love and anticipation for the future.

[privatejammy]

You’re gonna destroy reavers ass? Sounds kinda horny…

you are an unsuspecting merchant awaiting the hero of brightwall to transport you across mistpeak and i am a silver balverine that spawns just off camera before the player can notice.

[niala-moonthorn]

Just came across this again. "Trash-mouth friend" is so accurate. I wish she read this shit so I could taunt her. Granted she wears it with pride, but still. Gotta give her shit.

My night elf hunter Shaadren Sharpthorn (middle), her Death Knight SO Sylass Winterblind (left) and trash-mouth friend Telani Mistpeak (right) in their outfits for this year’s Tournament of Ages ball on Moon Guard!

outfits: left | middle | right

[dragon-fics]

DOS[holiday special]: Traditional to Not-So-Traditional {pt.7} (Ugauc X male elf/Reader)

Chapter summary: its wintertime and Ugauc and his "little elfling" go back to Mistpeaks. While they're there, Ugauc surprises the reader by preparing an elven feast.

Requested on DeviantArt)

pt. 1, Pt. 2, pt. 3 pt. 4, pt.5, pt. 6, pt. 8

“Ugauc?”

My call echoed around me in the foggy, snowy woodland as the cold prickled my neck. Without Ugauc by my side, I felt completely vulnerable to whatever the creatures Ugauc had smelled earlier.

Where has he gotten to?

My nervousness was making me impatient, and I just wanted to get out of these freezing temperatures.

Ugh! I miss the rainforest! It was so much warmer there, and there was tasty fruit to eat, instead of these bitter berries and hardly ripe apples.

My mind wandered to the warm sunshine and green canopy of the rainforest, leaving behind the bare trees and gloomy scenery around me. I could almost feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, replacing the cool dampness around me.

I miss home. And Festolgit is coming up soon... I wonder if dragons have anything to celebrate at the end of the year.

I looked around the little clearing I was in, scanning the fog for a muscular dragon-shifter in his humanoid form.

But I couldn’t spot him.

“Where are you, Ugauc?” I whispered, irritated. I wrapped my arms close to my torso under my cloak, trying to not feel warmer than my anxiety was allowing me to be.

I tightened my jaw, glancing around again, my anxiety only getting worse.

I heard the crunching of leaves and spun around, pulling out a dagger from beneath my dark cloak. I eyed the fog in front of me, keeping as stern of a face as I could, as my heart bet in terror.

I silently stood there in my battle stance, scared for my life.

Ugauc! I called out to him.

No response.

He couldn’t be that far away, so why isn’t he answering?

Has he run into something?

Is he hurt?

My mind raced, thinking of the worst thing that could have happened to him.

I stared at the spot, hearing only my breathing and racing heart as I watched for movement.

“Rah!” Shouted a voice, as his fingers dug into my sides as he launched himself from behind me.

I yelped and spun away from his grasp, cutting him with my blade. I stopped, eying my attacker from the opposite side of the clearing.

He seethed, holding his hand to his wounded face. “It’s nice to know your reflects are sharp.”

“Ugauc?” I looked to my blade, navy dragon blood dripping from the metal. I felt my heart drop.

“Ugauc... I am so sorry,” I apologize, stepping closer to his dark figure.

Ugauc came closer to me, dark blood seeping through his fingers as he held his hand to his cheek. “I’ll be fine, little elfling.” He removed his hand from his face and spit into it, before returning it to the slash of his face. “It’ll heal quickly.”

“You still shouldn’t have scared me like that!” I scolded. “I was so worried when you were gone for so long and didn’t respond.”

Ugauc’s lips lifted into a cruel smile, and he chuckled.

“What’s so amusing?!”

“How much you care.” I saw a scab already forming on his wound. “It’s adorable.”

I glared at him. “And what about the creatures you were tracking?”

“A couple of manticores who fled as soon as I got close to them. We’re fine... until they smell my blood.”

I rubbed my arms. “Then can we get going before they do that?”

Ugauc nodded his head calmly, ignoring my apparent irritation and distress. He smiled and pecked my brow. “Relax, little elfling. I’m fine. And I’m sorry for scaring you, I thought it would be funny.”

“And it clearly wasn’t,” I said, gesturing to his now sealed scar and dried blood around the wound.

Ugauc inclined his head. “I know.” He snapped his head around, scanning the foggy surroundings for whatever he heard.

“Let’s get going.”

*-*-*-*

“If you keep scratching like that, you’ll tear off your scales,” I called from the snowy shore of the lake. Ugauc crouched by the water, trying to rid his face of whatever blood was left around his wound.

“My dam will not bee happy seeing me without a shirt still, nevermind with dried blood on my face also,” Ugauc replied, glancing up at Mistpeaks. We had arrived a little while ago, after a few hours of flying.

I smiled. “She didn’t raise a barbarian dragon,” I quoted, watching him as he finished washing his face.

Ugauc chuckled. “No, she didn’t.”

“And yet you attacked me.”

Ugauc looked over his shoulder, looking hurt. “I thought you said we were ok now? That you had forgiven me?”

“You are, I’m just looking forward to hearing the story you’re going to tell your parents. You couldn’t have got it naturally.”

“Sometimes I really dislike you, little elfling.” Ugauc rose to his feet and walked over to me.

I simply smirked. “And yet you still whisper in my ear how much you love me every night.”

Ugauc chuckled and pecked my cheek. “Very true.” He kissed me on the lips.

“Ugh! Get a room!” Called a feminine voice from above. Ugauc and I snapped our heads up. Above us perched in a tree was a dragon-shifter, crouched and looking down at us. Ugauc stood between me and the tree, eying her in the bright winter sun.

Ugauc snarled at her.

“That’s no way to greet your sister,” she responded.

“Hey, Udauh,” I said, walking in front of Ugauc.

Udauh laughed and jumped down from the tree. “Hello, (Y/N).” She tossed my hair with her hand and looked at Ugauc.

“Udauh,” Ugauc disdained.

Udauh made a playful face at Ugauc. “Hello to you too, parvus frater.”

“Para what?” I asked.

“Little brother,” Ugauc translated.

I eyed Ugauc. “Dragons have their own language?”

“Apart from growls and grunts? yes, we do.”

Udauh giggled. “But even in this form, some males chose to not use their snarls.”

*-*-*-*

“So, Ugauc told me that not every dragon has a second form. Do you know why?” I asked Udauh. She was trying to keep me occupied—I just didn’t know why.

“There’s a bet it’s to do with genetics and magic. But some think it might have to do with some of us being bound to elves, or other non-draconic beings—like werewolves. Either way, its magic.”

I nodded. “At least you had an answer.”

Udauh giggled. “Ugauc likes to give an answer that he’s absolutely certain about.”

I smiled and nodded. “Yeah.” I glanced around, making sure none of the dragons in the canyon saw me. “So... do dragons have any festivals? Or holidays? Or feasts?”

Udauh shook her head. “No, nothing annually like elves have. We celebrate personal successes; like our trial to become clanmembers—like your hunt; or when we find our soulmates. It’s usually a family feast with the best of prey to eat.”

I nodded, hiding my disgust as best as I could; the thought of dragons eating other creatures still made my stomach churn, even after eating with Ugauc for almost a year.

I saw Udauh glance up at her parents’ cave, which was where we were staying for the time being since a draconic found Ugauc’s old cave and had made themselves at home in it.

Udauh’s lips curled into a smile. “Right, let’s get up there; I’m getting cold.” She lifted herself into the sky and flew off.

“Udauh!” I hissed. She turned around, looking down at me in the vegetation of the rocky valley. She elegantly flew done to me.

“Sorry,” she whispered. She shifted to her turquoise dragon form and took me up in her talons, keeping me as best hidden as she could; it was a very unnerving experience; sitting in her claws.

But after a few heart-racing minutes, Udauh landed in the cave's mouth and gently placed me on the cold stone. I got to my feet.

“Thanks, Udauh,” I said with a bow and slowly walked in. The chamber was lit up with tiny candles on the ledges in the walls. On the floor, there was a nice spread of fruits and cooked pieces meat all sitting on pieces of bark or stone on a blanket I had brought from my home. It reminded me of of of our winter festival, Festolgit.

“Merry Festolgit, (Y/N),” Ugauc said, smiling widely and wrapping me in a hug.

I smiled into his now covered chest. “Merry Festolgit, Ugauc,” I said, pulling away from him. “But I didn’t get you anything—that’s what Festolgit is all about.”

“I’ve already got the best gift ever,” he smiled. “You.” He pecked my nose.

I smiled, embarrassed. “Ugauc!”

[fabledheroesofalbion]

@timoremdei​ liked for a starter

Leaving the castle that night had not been the path she thought her life was going to take. Everything had spiraled out of control so fast. First, her brother had forced her to choose between the man she’d fallen in love with, or innocent citizens. The princess had managed to choke out to save Elliot, but she would never forgave Logan or herself for the loss of those citizens.

In a whirlwind, she’d left the castle that night with Walter and Jasper, only to find out she was a hero like her father before her had been. The fate of Albion, somehow, was in her hands. It was all so much to take. She was just one person. How could she ever lead a revolution? Much less one against her own brother...

Leanna had found herself under the cover of a large tree, just outside of Mistpeak Valley. Her faithful dog rested at her feet. Lost in thought, she hadn’t heard the villager approaching. Her dog alerted her, standing to his feet and letting out a brief warning whimper. She wiped her eyes as quickly as she could before she got to her feet as well. 

Remembering what she’d been told by the blind seer, she knew she had to make some impression. It was time for her to take a stand. There was no going back now, even if she wanted to. She swallowed, calling out to the man. “Hello.”

Feeling her confidence rise, she closed some of the distance between them. She figured she could at least see if the man needed any help from her. “Where are you headed?”