#The Emberglades | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

primroseprime2019 · 11 months ago

Text

Stars Colliding- Chapter One: A Strange Feeling

On Evara, in the kingdom of Volcandor, Paige, Phillip, Penny, Leo and Robert were at the guards' quarters. They sat on a bench, watching the rookie guards spar one another.

Paige sighed as she leaned back on her hands. Prism looked at her companion, "you okay?"

"Just thinking," she said. "And what are you thinking about, Paigey Paige?" Penny asked playfully. The Evaran smiled and looked at the sky.

It was a beautiful white and blue color.

In truth, Paige didn't know what she was thinking about. But there was a strange feeling in her chest. She didn't know what it was but she knew that it would lead her somewhere.

And she also knew that she wasn't going to be alone once she went down that road.

On Irilia, in the town of Skypeak, Gregory was sitting on the porch of Shasta's house, watching Sarah and Phoenix spar in their dragon forms.

Emma walked up beside her brother and sat down. He smiled as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Hey, Em," he said, "you feeling better?"

"Mhm," she mumbled and he could see that she was still sleeply. He chuckled softly and kissed her head.

She nuzzled into him and he smiled before he looked at the sky. Like Paige, he had that strange feeling. It was eating at him.

He didn't know what it was either but he knew that he and the other Heroes were going to find out soon enough.

In the town square of the town, Kaitlin was walking with her dad through the village. She sighed deeply as she held a basket.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Her dad, Peter, asked. He had a concerned look. She looked at him, "I'm okay, Dad. Just kinda bored is all."

He smiled softly and pulled her into a one-armed hug. She smiled and nuzzled into his side. "I bet your boredome will be cured when you and Gregory go and visit your friends."

Kaitlin giggled and Peter kissed her head.

The two walked over to another stand. Kaitlin looked at the sky and hummed softly.

On Dosyria, in the village of Northshire, Harry flew through the clouds. He flapped his wings before he closed them and free-fell through the air.

Astrid was watching him through the telescope. "He's doing it!" She called out.

Felix tapped the board and looked at the stopwatch. Before he reached the ground, Harry spread his wings and the action brought him back up into the sky before he zipped past the bell tower and his tail whacked against the bell.

It started ringing as it swayed left and right.

"Haha! Yes!" Runa exclaimed. Harry smiled as he landed on the roof of the clubhouse.

Heather chuckled, "amazing as always." Felix clapped his hands giddily.

"Okay, we're up," Silas chuckled with a sly grin.

"C'mon, Silas," Charlotte said as she, Victoria, Elana and Marley landed next to Heather and Dante, "no one's ever been able to hit that bell except Harry."

"Until now," Silas huffed. "Guys, this was supposed to be a drill," Harry piped up, brow furrowed, "do you have to turn it into a game?"

"Don't we always?" Astrid asked playfully. Harry chuckled, "fair point."

Silas smiled as he walked over and flew up into the air. Harry looked at Charlotte and Marley, "what brings you girls here?"

"What, we can't visit?" Marley asked playfully. Harry smiled and the three Heroes looked at the sky.

"You feel it too?" Charlotte asked. "Yeah," Harry and Marley replied.

"Do you think the others feel it too?" Marley asked. "No doubt they would," Charlotte chuckled.

On Dolvade, in the kingdom of Emberglade, Natalia was in her room. She stood by a mirror and held her hand out.

Her eyes glowed magenta and her irises glowed white. "Kýma tis Fotiás," she muttered before she swung her hand and a wave of magenta flames flew into the mirror.

The mirror jerked but fortunately didn't break.

Natalia sighed in relief as Cody walked into the room. She looked at him, "hey."

"Hey, big sis," he greeted, "practicing your magic again?"

She chuckled softly. "You know this takes precedence." Her brother playfully rolled his eyes as he sat on the bed.

Natalia chuckled softly and she walked out onto the balcony. She leaned against the banister and Cody followed her. Natalia looked up at the sky.

She fiddled with her pendant. She frowned deeply as she felt a strange feeling in her chest. She hummed softly.

On Dolrion, in the kingdom of Nocturnia, Demetrius was standing out on the balcony, staring out at the city of Nightshade.

He sighed deeply and leaned against it. The wind blew at his hair and he closed his eyes for a moment. Maddox walked up beside him.

"What's on your mind?" He asked. Demetrius looked at him, "nothing much. Just... I have this strange feeling. Like, something is going on but I don't know what it is."

Maddox tilted his head curiously.

Demetrius leaned against him, resting his head on the Dolrion prince's shoulder.

"Well... I'm sure you'll get a chance to find that feeling," Maddox said, wrapping an arm around his best friend's shoulder, "you always do."

Demetrius smiled and looked at the sky.

On Xinia, Thomas, Alby and Newton were running through the fields.

Thomas skidded to a halt before he crouched low, his eyes narrowing in concentration. After a few moments, he leapt up and tackled Alby who yelped in surprise.

A few young Xinians ran over; two boys and two girls.

Newton chuckled, "well you certainly caught him, Tommy."

Thomas chuckled slightly as he transformed back and helped Alby to his feet.

"I'm going to take the young ones to the Shady River. See you once it's dinner time," Alby said.

"Alright," Newton nodded. Thomas nodded. Alby gently nudged the young ones and they took off running.

Thomas looked at the sky and he hummed softly, a frown forming on his face. Newton looked at him, "oh no... I know that face."

Thomas looked at him, amused, "this is just my thinking face."

"Uh-huh," Newton chuckled as he hopped on a boulder, "and what are you thinking about?"

"It's just a weird feeling," Thomas replied, sitting beside his friend, "I don't know. Looking at the sky helps."

"Doing that just means that adventure is calling again," Newton stated. Thomas raised his eyebrows in surprise. The blonde smiled.

"What, don't think I haven't seen you longing for that," he said. Thomas smiled and nuzzled him, "you know me well."

"Indeed I do," he replied, "now let's get back home, yeah?"

Thomas nodded and got up. He looked at the sky and frowned before he jumped down from the boulder and he and Newton started walking.

Thomas kept glancing back at the sky every step he took.

On Dovatera, in the middle of the woods, Shiloh was racing past the trees in his Velociraptor form.

He heard fast and heavy footsteps behind him. Nova and Darby were running after him.

He grinned and sped up before he skidded to a stop in the middle of a field. He transformed back and smiled. He looked at Jasmine.

The Gialaran sat on a small boulder and took out her phone to stop the timer. "5.10 seconds," She chuckled.

"Try and beat that," Darby huffed, breathing heavily. Shiloh rolled his eyes as he downed a bottle of water.

Nova chuckled, "he couldn't beat Derek if he tried." Shiloh glared at his sister, "hush you! I'm not dealing with him!"

Jasmine chuckled, "he beat you once." "And he sometimes gloats about it," Shiloh huffed before he looked at the sky. The clouds were slowly getting dark and thunder rumbled in the distance.

Shiloh stared at the darkening skies and hummed quietly. "You ever get the feeling that something strange is happening?" He asked suddenly. Jasmine, Nova and Darby looked at him then at each other.

"No?" Nova said.

Shiloh hummed, "maybe it's just me then. Come on. I wanna get back in time for dinner."

The four started walking back to the town, Bluefront.

Shiloh glanced over his shoulder and thunder rumbled again.

On Phixinia, in the kingdom of Incendora, Ivan was in his room, painting some floral designs on Peni, his robot-arm friend.

He hummed thoughtfully before he set the paintbrush aside and looked at the window. He got up and pushed it open.

He closed his eyes, feeling the cool wind hit his face. He climbed out of it and up onto the roof.

He looked out towards the sky. 'Looks like a storm is coming,' he thought and he rubbed his chest. Ever since he woke up and had breakfast, he had been getting this strange feeling.

Like... a dream that something was happening. Something big.

Ivan moved a strand of hair from his face and hummed softly.

Maybe he could text the other Heroes and they would know what the feeling was.

On Whisperia, in the snowy woods, Joanna and Lemuel were walking with their mother, Winter.

Winter climbed up a slope and she looked back at her kids. Joanna was helping Lemuel up the slope. Winter looked back at the rest of the way up.

She looked back at the two, "why don't you two go and see your friends?"

"Are you sure?" Joanna asked, furrowing a brow. "I wanna stay with you," Lemuel piped up, pouting a little.

"I know," Winter replied, "but I gotta handle some things and it'll take a few hours. You two go have fun. I'll pick you up later."

"Okay," Joanna nodded. Winter kissed their heads before she walked up ahead.

Joanna and Lemuel looked at each other before they smiled and hurried to the Frosty Meadows to see their friends.

Their friends, Blight, Vera and Lector were waiting.

"Hey, guys," Lemuel said. "Hey, you two," Blight chuckled.

"Glad you could make it," Vera smiled. "Like we would miss this," Joanna huffed with a playful laugh. The five Whisperians ran over to the fence where the other kids were standing, all looking excited and curious.

"What's this about again?" Lemuel asked, tilting his head. "Older Whisperian males come running back after hunting," Blight explained, "some of them start sparring."

Joanna hummed softly before she looked at the sky. She heard thunder rumbling and she frowned. She rubbed the back of her neck.

She too had felt the strange warm feeling buzzing through her. All of the Heroes felt it.

Unbeknownst to them, that feeling would lead them to the same place where chaos often took hold.

Earth.

#my ocs #fanfiction #transformers prime #transcendants

0 notes

wanderingcotabussurgetank · 2 years ago

Photo

Emberglade by June Jenssen

0 notes

sonofkhaz · 4 years ago

Text

The Whole Hog

A cracking sound reverberated through the sparse woodlands as a scout dressed in the blue and white livery of House Ilithia was pulled from his horse and thrown into a tree like a sack of potatoes.

Muroco looked down at the dead scout, the latter’s eyes widened in shock and terror. The tauren managed to catch the young, unshaven, inexperienced man off guard while he was trying to hunt an errant boar. He leaned down and pried the brass bugle still clutched within the elf’s fingers, gears working in his mind, then looked up and saw the boar trundling away.

He had volunteered to act as the leader of a diversion to draw away as many Ilithian soldiers as possible while his smaller, well meaning, but less physically intimidating elven colleagues in the Emberglades deliberated their next counter-offensive. Muroco had spent three days surveying the western marshes, woods, and mountains south of Kearn, anticipating where supply lines and reinforcements were coming from. It was not a difficult task, but the entire plan needed to be executed correctly, lest it have no impact.

Muroco watched the boar hobble up an incline and disappear through a treeline. He was surprised at the number of wild boars and hogs he had seen in the western Emberglades. Their population was likely a result of the difficult times brought on by the Scourge, the Burning Legion, and wars with the Alliance. While they were often docile, they could be dangerous when easily riled up.

The tauren looked back down at the bugle, and an idea formed in his head.

“In all my life, I have seen so many changes to the world and have witnessed and experienced so many different things, but I will admit that this was the first time I was ever under the leadership of a tauren. I’d not known much about them, but I always assumed that, as a collective whole, they were peaceful in nature. Little did I know that the giant of a bull I fought under came from the most violent, brutal tribe their people had ever known.

When I met him, I assumed that he was some brute, a lumbering giant who only answered problems with his fists. The type of person who would pull out a blunderbuss on a mosquito who bit him. The type of person who thought that every problem was a nail, and he was the hammer.

I was wrong in that estimate. He was...an enigma, I suppose. From his reputation, I also assumed that he would be abrasive and belligerent, and would size everyone up for a fight. He seemed to keep his emotions under rein, but you could see the ferocity in his intense, blue eyes which rarely blinked. I was glad he was on our side during the war - while seemingly phlegmatic, he had a cunning brutality and a taste for war that very few people in the world could truly obtain, let alone understand.

The ambushes he had us perform against House Ilithia are...difficult to properly describe in writing. They seemed simplistic but were complicated in execution, like the creation of a flail. During the war, House Ilithia managed to use their influence to establish a strong supply line - even if they did not have the strongest warriors of our people, they compensated with a supply of food, weaponry, soldiers and militia.

On day one, Muroco insisted that we followed three principles of war. “First, we must fight scattered. Then, we have to surround the enemy when possible. Finally, should we be hard pressed, we must retreat, only to return when the pressure has eased.”

Despite our detachment being at full strength, Muroco had ordered a number of us to go out into the woods and capture as many boars as possible. It seemed a trivial task, but he insisted he had a strategy. For the rest of us, we performed lightning-strike raids on caravans on horseback, though Muroco had had his kodo beast bloody teleported to the Emberglades by some mage friend of his.

At first, I thought he would instruct us to leave no survivors, but that was not the case. He ordered us to be indiscriminate with eliminating our own people, but wanted us to leave at least one to three survivors. The first few caravans were lightly guarded; I assume House Ilithia did not expect combatants to be so far west of the province. There were two survivors - one fled to the north, the other captured by Muroco for questioning. When the soldier refused to speak, the tauren bound him, tied him to his kodo’s tail, then rode laps around the caravan’s ruins for an hour until he finally revealed when the next caravan would come.

To my surprise, Muroco let him go. I worked up enough courage to ask him why he insisted that survivors remain. He explained that some demoralized survivors would return to their comrades and speak of the horrors, but he wanted others to speak of vengeance. It was his intent to draw as many House Ilithia combatants as possible to us, and I felt a chill run down my spine; whether it was the prospect of facing so many, or his cool assuredness that they would all perish that gave me fear, I could not say.

For the next several days, we executed the same ambushes in different areas, always moving and never staying in the same location. Each raid was more dangerous than the last, with more and more soldiers guarding each caravan. The survivors always carried wounds from broadhead arrows. He pushed us to fight...we would fight to the point of exhaustion, and we would only rest when our horses became fatigued.

He was a brutal tactician, and he drove us hard, but he was one of the most effective leaders I had ever fought under.

Eventually, Muroco pulled my cousin and me aside to speak to us about the final parts of his plan. He produced a bugle and handed it to my cousin; it was unbeknownst to me at the time, but he had instructed her to hide in the woods during every ambush and observe not only Ilithia’s marching formations, but to study and memorize the signals they used with instruments whenever they were attacked. He then turned to me and had me follow him to a makeshift pen where we had corralled the boars we had captured. At the time, there had been an infestation of boars and hogs in the province due to a high reproduction and lack of hunting to quell their numbers. They were pests but typically docile, but dangerous when angered; in fact, they looked agitated from not being fed properly.

“The biggest convoy yet will be coming through the marshes tomorrow,” Muroco said to me, “and this is what we’re going to use to put a stop to them.”

I stopped myself from knitting my eyebrows together in consternation. Boars? What, I thought, was his plan? Feed the soldiers to death?

“How so?”

In his hand he held what appeared to be some sort of gland, about as large as my fist. Its coloration was odd - brown and yellow with a few red spots. “This,” he said, “is the venom gland of a particular wind serpent from the Stonetalon Mountains. My...former tribe...considers them to be sacred animals. Watch.”

Muroco held it out in front of the pen and slightly squeezed it, and as he did I could see the boars begin to rustle and squeal, their nostrils flaring at the scent. I felt the hairs on my neck rise, as if a jolt of lightning went down my spine.

“So you’ll put them in a frenzy,” I said, to which Muroco nodded. “What do I have to do?”

“You’re going to lure them on horseback with the gland.”

“Very well, but how do I stop them from goring me?” I asked.

“They’ll be attracted to the scent, maybe the horse, but not by you,” he responded, pulling a jar of fluid from his cloak. “Apply this to your skin and clothes, and it will mask your scent.”

I felt my heart drop. I already had a feeling what it was, but I asked anyway. “What is that?”

“Kodo urine,” said Muroco.

The following evening, the final stages of his plan were set in motion. I reeked of the urine I had begrudgingly doused myself with - it had taken a week to finally get the smell out afterwards, but to the tauren’s credit the boars did not seem to notice me, only the gland I held on horseback. As instructed, I squeezed the gland as hard as I could, its venom seeping over my thick leather cavalry gloves, The pens to the gate were broken, and the boars chased after me, grunting and squealing, their eyes filled with a bestial frenzy. My poor horse ran ahead of them, galloping through the sparse woods to keep away from the drove of boars chasing after her. Up ahead, the rest of my comrades began their ambush against the convoy. The Ilithians had gotten wise of our basic stratagems, which is what Muroco intended. Their spearmen held their shields at the front while archers and arbalests attempted to fire on the moving horsemen.

What they didn’t know, however, was that the arrows we fired were wrapped in cloth soaked with wind serpent venom.

The marsh made it difficult for the Ilithians and their wagons to traverse. I feared they would realize that the stampeding boars were coming for them, but these were not the soldiers our people boasted during the zenith of our kingdom, only a patchwork of provincial soldiers with token discipline. My cousin, who had taken her place north of the convoy, used her bugle to mimic the signal of an impending attack. The Ilithians readjusted their lines to face an oncoming threat that did not exist.

Leaving their backs exposed.

I tossed the gland towards them and veered off to the right, muttering a thanks to Belore that the boars continued their path. By the time the Ilithians realized what was happening, it was too late. The boars charged into the exposed lines, goring and biting the Ilithians who reeked of venom. Their lines were disrupted, folding and snapping like a banner in a gust, and our guerillas surrounded their convoy, firing shaft after shaft into the dismayed soldiers. Their sergeants and captains tried to shout orders over the din of chaos to no avail. Muroco charged in with his kodo, smashing aside the remaining semblance of resistance, soldier and boar flying through the air as his beast flailed its horns and spiked tail in every direction.

The Ilithians were completely broken that day, and that night I ate more roast boar than I ever had in my entire life.

@retributionpriest @thepilgrimofwar

#World of Warcraft #Moon Guard #writing #Tauren #My writing #the emberglades

10 notes · View notes

thepilgrimofwar · 6 years ago

Text

Homefront

Snow had begun to fall, coating the courtyard of Emberheart Manor in white save for Sederis’ altar in its center. There, his corpse lay under the protection of a spell, keeping the bed of thorns and ochre flowers pristine even in the harshness of true winter.

“Thank you for coming,” came a voice from behind him. But Beathyn did not turn. He was fixated on the altar amongst the snow. “I hope your journey here was uneventful.”

“I’m a procurement specialist,” he replied. “What good would I be if I can’t slip through a blockade?”

Solendis stepped forward next to him, gazing at his brother’s corpse. “We tried to bring him back. Dame Everliegh knew as much when she returned him to us. That light-willing, he’d be brought back.”

“Yet here he lies. Sleeping in the cold.”

Solendis frowned. “We couldn’t bring him back.”

“Knowing Sederis, he wouldn’t want to,” Beathyn muttered, then turned to the Steward of the Emberglades. “So why have you called me here?”

“I need something delivered.”

“To the Sunguard?”

Solendis shook his head. “To Zarannis Wintergale.”

“Zarannis? What business would you have with one of our Pathfinders?”

“Ms. Wintergale is the daughter of Lord Wintergale. Bannerlord of the Cloudrend Glades. Largest and most bountiful province of the Emberglades,’ Solendis explained at length. It was clear that despite his relationship with Sederis, Beathyn had clearly no knowledge of his friend’s homeland, or the state it was in.

Beathyn raised an eyebrow in surprise, recalling the tribal tattoos that marked Zarannis’ face and trying to picture her in a noblewoman’s dress. “She doesn’t… Look the part.”

“She was disowned by her family centuries ago,” said Solendis.

“And now you’re seeking to bring her back into the fold?”

“Not exactly.” Solendis stepped towards double doors that led into the manor’s dining room, inviting Beathyn inside.

He took the invitation, stepping out of the cold and into the spartan manor. “What am I delivering exactly?” He asked, and as if to answer his question, Solendis presented to him a war banner that laid across the long dining table. “That was carried by Sederis’ standard bearers.”

Solendis nodded. “It is the Banner of the Broken Bulwark. He used it to rally his men to join the Sunguard and its causes as Oathsworn. It also belonged to the soldiers of its namesake who died to a man defending the Broken Bulwark against Dame Everleigh.” The Steward of the Emberglades ran his finger along the tattered length of black canvas. “I want you to give this to Ms. Wintergale along with the following message: Return to the Emberglades at your earliest convenience. The Bulwark needs a Bannerlord.”

Beathyn gave him an incredulous look. “You’re trying to bribe her back into the fold by offering a wasteland?”

“The Bulwark isn’t a gift,” Solendis snapped. “It’s a responsibility. Much like how Lord Tarsaren before her inherited it after The Fall. Her duty will not be to rule, but to rebuild a broken land.”

Beathyn paused, looking at the banner that represented so much to the hundreds that had died in its name. “And what happens if she refuses?”

“Then you return it at your earliest convenience.”

“No,” Beathyn looked Solendis in the eyes. “What happens to the Emberglades if she refuses?”

“Since when did you care about our domestic problems?”

“I don’t. But the Glades were important to him.”

Solendis took a moment to consider the man before him. The Spymaster knew that before Beathyn had become a smuggler turned quartermaster, he had once been part of the Blood Knights during the Burning Crusade. He was no stranger to politics and power. Perhaps he could prove useful in the days to come. “You’ve helped keep tabs on Sederis for a long time-“

“Because I cared about him,” Beathyn snapped.

“Yes, that you did. But it also means that you wouldn’t betray his family in their time of need. Especially now, by repeating the things I’m about to tell you,” Solendis gestured to Beathyn to take a seat at the Emberheart’s table.

Art by Isharton

@retributionpriest @stormandozone @thanidiel @thenaaru @dorksworn @spiralsandbloodknights @felthier

#The Sunguard #The Phoenix Wars #The Emberglades #Beathyn #Zarannis

29 notes · View notes

thanidiel · 6 years ago

Text

Broken Shield

"Crows, Goldenshade forces; we're gone. Belono sil'aru, tal'dorei.” (Shoulder your burdens well, children of death.)

Turn around.

Just fucking turn around, Thanidiel.

Don’t look.

Do not look.

D O N O T L O O K.

“When you broke it, so too did the foundations of your inability to cope shatter.”

But it’s still here. You liar. It’s still here.

The foundation is still here.

It’s cracked. It’s just cracked. That’s it. I’m still standing. I’m still thinking. I’m still here.

And the Wheel is still here. It’s still here. It’s still fucking turning.

There’s just blood, and legacy, and history, and failure, and repetition, and mythos, and scripts, and always, and blood.

I’m still fucking walking away.

I always walk away.

II II I I walk away I I I I always walk away I I I always walk away I always walk away I walk away Always I always walk away I always I away walk I always walk walk walk I always away away I always walk always walk I walk always walk away I always walk away away always walk away away walk I away walk I I walk always away I\ / \ away walk I \ I I away walk I walk always I away always I always walk I

I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save. I never stay. I never protect. I never save.

I just walk away.

I always walk away.

Blood, and legacy, in the earth, in the ever-welling spokes of this cursed Wheel.

As it always has been.

@retributionpriest @thepilgrimofwar @thesunguardmg

#writing #lirelle #sederis #thanidiel #the crows #the emberglades #phoenix wars #the sunguard

46 notes · View notes

thefugitivemango · 4 years ago

Text

New Story - The Few Remaining

"Nervous, Nora?"

Wy'nora jumped as Brent stepped out of the shadows before her. One hand brought up to her chest, as if to still her startled heart. The other sparked momentarily with an arcane flame, extinguishing just as quickly. She exhaled a sigh of mild relief, laying eyes on Brent. The eyes lingered, looking him over for the first time since his transformation.

"--By the Sunwell… I didn't think you could look any more broodingly aloof, Brent." she nodded, lips playing at a smirk. "I miss you with the shorter hair, honestly."

"Candid as ever." Brent quipped back, pulling his mask down. "Call on some of that candor and tell me why I'm here."

"--Ooh, and a beard, too? Influence from your new Dwarven friends, I imagine."

"Nora." he huffed.

She waved a dismissive hand, chuckling lightly to herself. The warmth was second nature to her, playful but sincere. But in the moment, it felt forced; pushed out to compensate for her uncertainty. It kept Brent on edge.

"I'll explain when the others arrive. Or are you leading me to them?" she asked, crossing her arms loosely over her chest.

"Others?" Brent asked, brow askew.

"--Oh tsk, you can play, but I can't? The others, Brent. Kai’eka, and Thea. This is for all of you." she elaborated. "Where are they? I know Kai must be lumbering about somewhere. And dearest Thea… I haven’t seen her in so long.”

She smiled a hopeful smile, at the prospect of seeing Nepen’thea again. And she did little to hide it, too. Concerned and anxious as she seemed before, the thought of a reunion with her old friend was overpowering any fear she had, and immediately took the forefront of her demeanor. It was too raw, too sincere an expression to be fake or falsified. And even then, Brent knew Wy’nora would never utter Nepen’thea’s name as a tool of any matter of ruse.

She just didn’t know.

Brent Sunborn gets a summons from an old friend of the Coterie’s-- Wy’nora Emberglade, a contact of no small repute among the Reliquary. But before she gifts him with much more than he expected, he has to bear some devastating news... They are The Few Remaining!

You can read the whole thing, and other stories I’ve written, over on The Observer’s Archives, but be warned-- this one in particular is a saucy NSFW story for Patron eyes only! If it piques your interest, your support would be greatly appreciated! If not, I guess you’ll never know how it unfolds...

Still! Feel free to read other SFW stories on the site!

[[ @nepenthea for mention. Miss you, friendo <3 ]]

#character story #Brent Sunborn #Patreon #ren'dorei #Warcraft #Wy'nora Emberglade #Blood Elf #Quel'Thalas #saucy stories!

9 notes · View notes

avweckman · 6 years ago

Photo

Tell me, Child of the Moon, is it not too soon to find yourself bathed in red under the night’s dying light?

Their’s is a story of curses and blessings, of finding beauty in a dying world.

#my ocs #ocs #original character #akiila emberglade #semoki moonthrall

6 notes · View notes

ao3feed-hitoshi-shinsou · 5 years ago

Text

I Literally Cannot Stand You, Denki Kaminari

I Literally Cannot Stand You, Denki Kaminari by Emberglade

He hardly noticed the distinct lack of his notebook on the table until something firm and leather promptly acquainted itself with the back of his head. Choking on his drink, the teen sputtered and spun around. Standing at the edge of the couch, his notebook in hand, stood the purple haired boy himself. He held out the journal for Denki, who slowly took it back while still trying to eject the hot chocolate from his lungs. Sero clapped him on the back, laughing. --- Denki just wants to be Shinso's friend. Really! Just his friend! But he's a touchy son of a bitch, and he realizes pretty quickly that it's going to be much more difficult than he thought. Shinso just wants to be left alone. He doesn't like Denki and he doesn't need friends. He needs to focus on himself. And he can't do that with an annoying blonde trying to talk to him all day.

Words: 2899, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Class 1-A, Kaminari Denki, Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Monoma Neito, Class 1-B, not mineta lol

Relationships: Kaminari Denki/Shinsou Hitoshi, background relationships maybe

Additional Tags: Strangers to Lovers, "strangers", Slow Burn, tags to be added as the story goes on but there will be violence, And also angst, Angst, Past Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Orphan Shinsou Hitoshi, but hes been adopted so its ok, Canon Compliant, for now?, Dadzawa, Internalized Homophobia, whoops, takes place in 2A', its been a year boys

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24259321

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Shinkami #♥#Shinkami #Aizawa Shouta #⚣#R:T #A:Emberglade #Dadzawa #Abuse #Angst

17 notes · View notes

catography-webcomic · 6 months ago

Text

Another one down! Cecilia's model sheet! I love her front view the most her face and pose is so cute. Also...

Look! Look at her tiny beans. Such small paws.

#cat #catography #pirate #webcomic #cecilia #cecilia emberglade #model sheets

4 notes · View notes

worldofwarcraftart · 5 years ago

Photo

Emberglade by June Jenssen Source: https://ift.tt/2MMHzgx New news website for furry fans: http://awoonews.com

#wow #world of warcraft #legion #azeroth #imaginaryazeroth #hunter #armory #forums #classes #movie #blizzard

122 notes · View notes

reddieao3feed · 5 years ago

Text

Lua

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3dwKgjc

by Emberglade

Richie Tozier and Beverly Marsh are close. They're close because of secrets.

Words: 2565, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Richie Tozier, Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak, Bill Denbrough, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Stanley Uris

Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier

Additional Tags: implied rape, Slight sexual assault, a guy gets pushy with richie but thats as far as descriptions go, bevs dad is a cuck bastard who i hate, Friendship, Friend Dynamics, Character Analysis, Hurt/Comfort, richie and bev are buddies and i love them, i may expand on this with another chapter, tagging this is so hard

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3dwKgjc

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #reddie #it (2017)#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak

8 notes · View notes

sonofkhaz · 5 years ago

Text

For Old Time’s Sake

Tantus Silvervale and his fellow bandits prowled through the misty woods, weapons in hand as they lay in wait for their next mark.

The aftermath of the Phoenix Wars had still plagued the people of Quel’thalas, but the agonies of war had brought fresh opportunities to an elf like Tantus. Once little more than a common cutpurse, he found himself scavenging the remains of battlefields for anything of value. In his hands he carried a crossbow of dwarven make, a revolving contraption that could fire several bolts before having to reload. Once he found more like-minded associates he then found himself sticking up refugees too weak to defend themselves, followed by caravans that were lightly guarded. The bandit smiled to himself; it was like a never-ending treasure trove. Once he amassed enough of a fortune he intended to retire his life of banditry and purchase an estate near the ocean. Maybe he’d carve out his own little duchy.

Of course, he’d have to kill his ‘friends’ in order to tie up any loose ends before they got any funny ideas. They were dregs, opportunistic vultures whose eyes glinted with the thoughts of greed and cruelty, but they were easily controllable. But even so, if one of them decided they wanted to start walking tall, it could only spell out trouble for the self-proclaimed kingpin.

“Eh, er, boss?” one of the bandits said, snapping Tantus out of his fantasies.

“What?”

The underling gestured behind him. “I think we’re being followed. Followed by something dangerous.” He looked away from Tantus, averting his gaze. “Maybe, um, we should scatter outta here. I got a bad feeling.”

Tantus scowled in exasperation at the crony and waved one of his hands at him in exasperation. “Then keep your eyes open.”

“I don’t know,” another one spoke up. Underlings, Tantus believed, were like lemmings, but if one started to speak up for themselves, then the others would find courage to do so as well. “This fog is good for cover, but what if something wanted to get the jump on us?”

Tantus felt one of the veins near his left temple twitch in irritation. Was he surrounded by cowards? He looked down at the dagger on his belt and felt the urge to give one of them a second smile as an example. “Listen, you chicken shits, there’s nothing out here. No one is dumb enough to venture into these woods lest they want to get quilled, so shut up and keep your eyes open.”

Time passed as they waited. The caravan Tantus had heard about should be arriving soon, but despite his previous bluster he couldn’t help but feel uneasy at what his ‘comrades’ had said. He begrudgingly admitted to himself that they had a point.

The elf heard a twig snap, and he whirled around with his crossbow raised, the other bandits following suit with their weapons. The group was in an undisciplined, disorderly circle as they scanned their horizons. Tantus could feel his heart hammering in his chest as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight. A tingling feeling went down his back, and for a moment he thought someone was going to stab him in the back.

Nothing, he told himself. It was nothing.

He exhaled and looked over his group, fear in apprehension apparent in their eyes, and a cold chill went through him.

One of the bandits cried out and began to frantically gesture, and as Tantus turned his head to see where she was pointing, it was too late.

A massive blur of steel and black fur crashed into the disorganized group with bone-shattering force, and two of the brigands were knocked off their feet and sent hurtling. Tantus fought down the urge to soil himself and flee as the monstrosity gored another bandit on his horns, flipping the unfortunate woman over his head and sending her to the earth.

“Scatter, dammit!” Tantus shouted over the chaos as he readied his crossbow. “Scatter and fire! Bring him down!”

Their assailant, a tauren, was a bull of his kind, armored from head to hoof and carrying a massive tower shield with the remnants of a mammoth skull fused to its surface. Despite his massive frame, he had managed to sneak up on the group, and he fought in silence as his arcanite axe flashed, beheading another elf clean in a single swing. Another bandit got his courage up and charged at the warrior, his rust-splotched swords merely rebounding off his thick plates. The tauren brought his hoof up in a swift kick, causing the elf to double over in wracking agony which was swiftly ended as his shield came crashing down. Tantus heard a hideous cracking noise as the bandit crumpled to the forest floor.

Tantus and the remaining bandits fired their bows and crossbows. The bandit chief’s bolt managed to punch the tauren in the shoulder, but the latter merely flinched and appeared to shrug it off as he raised his shield to block the remaining projectiles. The tauren tossed his axe at one of the combatants; though it was clearly not weighted for throwing, his strength compensated for it and the weapon flew head over haft, striking another bandit in the chest and killing her. He retreated back into the trees as Tantus growled and fired his bolts at the tauren, each one whizzing past as the tauren’s long legs gave him stride.

Tantus cursed and produced another cartridge from his bandolier, his hands shaking as he loaded it into the stock of his mechanical crossbow. One of the bandits ran over to his axe-stricken compatriot and tried to pry the weapon free. “Stop, damn it!” Tantus ordered. “Pay attention!”

His commands fell on deaf ears as he heard the tauren bellow behind him. He turned and saw their assailant leap from a small incline, the eye sockets of his shield glowing a dark orange as it slammed into the earth with terrific force. A thunderclap rang out across the woods, and a shockwave erupted from the ground, hurtling into the remaining bandits and sending them off their feet. The crossbow was ripped from Tantus’s hands, vertigo overcoming him as he crashed into the earth. He laid there stunned, a ringing noise filling his ears. Every rib in his body felt cracked. His vision swam, the elf seeing double as he tried to roll onto his stomach, but every limb ached as he tried to sit up.

A shadow fell over Tantus as his eyes widened in terror.

“No, no!” Tantus pleaded, raising his arms to cover his face. His legs churned the soil, the adrenaline of fear propelling him backwards as he tried to retreat in vain. “I’ll...I’ll give you anything you want! I’ll let you be my second-in-command! No, actually, I’ll let you be in charge! I’ll reform! I’ll go to the university in Silvermoon, get an education, donate to the church!” Tantus had a moment to think of his dreams of kingdom-making dissolving through his fingers as a hoof came crashing down towards his head.

Muroco Rockhoof sat in the back of a covered wagon. He idly ran his grindstone against the curve of his axe as he watched the rolling grasslands and hills of the countryside pass by.

It had been fortuitous; he had left his kodo in Orgrimmar for this journey back to Quel’thalas, and had been forced to travel on foot. He had taken the bodies of the bandits he killed and laid them out by the side of the road, and once a caravan had come by, he insisted to its master that he should let him tag along in exchange for protection against any potential attacks. The owner had agreed and let the tauren climb into the back of one of the empty wagons, relieved that the tauren’s weight did not force it to do a wheelie down the road once he climbed aboard.

It had been months since he had been back to this land, and he was not surprised that it wasn’t faring any better since the end of the Phoenix Wars. He had received an urgent missive from a former colleague pleading for his aid, promising him the prospects of battle. While he was certainly not one to shy away from a fight, its premise did not amuse him and he nearly tossed the letter into a bonfire. He didn’t care about the squabbling of lordlings fighting over parcels of land as they schemed in their precious gilded towers. For all their talks of the burden of leadership, nobles never had to fend for themselves, never understood the value of survival or a hard day’s labor.

“See that giant of a tauren?” Muroco overhead one of the caravan guards say, “I bet there’s plenty in the Alliance who would want him dead. I heard he killed an entire clan of druids by himself.”

“Yeah?” another said, “Forget druids, I heard he went over to one of those islands near Gilneas and injured one of their wild gods in battle.”

“You don’t know?” yet another asked, “he used to fight under one of our banners. He was a complete terror in Feralas and Ashenvale to the Alliance before Teldrassil burned.”

“Did you know that he once stopped an endless wave of demons from destroying an orphanage for seven days and seven nights?” “War’s over, wonder what he’s doing back here.”

Muroco rolled his blue eyes as he overheard the conversation and how the tales of him became more and more embellished as time went on. All of them were true but it was apparent that his exploits were becoming hammed up. Seven days and seven nights? Physically impossible, even for someone like him. He may have wounded gods but he certainly did not do it alone. Infact, most of what he had done he had not done alone.

Elves, from his experience, turned their noses up at virtually any aspect of life that wasn’t a part of theirs. Even though their society was a hollow shell of what it used to be, their pompousness still remained, and elves had a tendency to be narcissistic, egotistical, never satisfied cynics who threw tantrums over the slightest grievances. In their own folly and arrogance, they would gladly rip out the foundation under them by its roots, hurtling themselves towards their own demise.

Muroco wasn’t that much better. He wasn’t vain or egotistical, but he was a killing machine. He may not kill defenseless civilians and children, but he killed their soldiers without hesitation to fuel the art of war, leaving widows and widowers, mothers and fathers without children, sons and daughters without parents. Lives were shattered and irreversibly damaged wherever he went. A living, breathing inconsistency on two hooves.

Perhaps, at the core of it all, it was the reason he decided to return to this shell of a land. The elves, for all their faults, accepted him for who he was. He was not Muroco the Savage Hero, the Butcher of Feralas, the Terror of Tirisfal. Not the Muroco who smashed through ranks of knights and soldiers, a mighty beast who gored his enemies upon his horns and crushed their bones beneath his hooves. They looked past all of that, beyond his titles and reputations, the intimidating aura he emanated, the many kills to his names.

He was just Muroco. Just Muroco, the friend who raised his shield in defense of his allies.

The tauren exhaled and leaned back in the carriage, eyes still watching the horizon. Maybe this was just a matter of swatting gnats, or maybe there was some dark force at work. Time could only tell.

@thepilgrimofwar @retributionpriest

#World of Warcraft #writing #My writing #emberglades #the emberglades #Moon Guard

3 notes · View notes

thepilgrimofwar · 6 years ago

Text

The Bulwark

A flash of light, hot and white, rained burning steel over the battlefield. Sederis was no stranger to being on the receiving end of artillery, but that didn’t make it any less terrifying. All around him, good men, the strongest of his unit, were being torn to shreds without having a chance at prove their worth in combat. A waste. A damn waste.

He had clustered his pikes on the ridge, slaughtering every knight that attempted to push through their right flank. If Townsend’s knights broke through, Sederis knew that the sort of damage they’d be capable of. Everyone was counting on him to hold. So he did. Through noise, light, and the rain of fire and steel. He held.

Until they began to fall upon the banner of Grand Arcanist.

“Stay in cover,” he ordered, rising out of the mess of Emberglade pikes and shields. His men gazed at their commander in both horror and awe as he sprinted across artillery raked fields to his swordsmen that he had held in reserve. “Rearguard with me!” He barked, gathering the ones stupid enough to follow him. Yells and screams echoed over the hellish roar of dwarven shells as they slammed right into the cluster of Mage-guard. To the credit of their discipline, the mages held their ranks. Like true soldiers, they were determined to hold even if it was to their dying breath. Sederis meant to deny Lady Death of her offerings today. “Shield wall!”

His reserves slammed their shields into the ground, forming protective phalanxes for the surviving mage-guard. Sederis led a small contingent of men straight to their commander, Azriah, and made sure that she got out of this mess alive. If she died, this whole effort would’ve been futile. Though they weren’t protected from the explosive blasts of direct hits, it was enough to stop the mass slaughter from the shrapnel. Joined with the shields that made Azriah’s phalanx, Sederis didn’t face her or speak until the shelling ceased. Only then did he turn, giving her a single short and sharp nod before disappearing with his troops back into formation.

Following the battle, Sederis rode through the encampment on an ebony courser. Dressed in blood and kingmail, he surveryed the soldiers around him. They were happy. Which was an odd thing to say about soldiers who's kingdom had just been invaded but there they were. Smiling as they cleaned and prepare their gear, almost ready to move out. To their west was the smoldering field where the Dark Iron had made their last stand. Their final act a statement to their dedication as warriors. Death before dishonor. Something Sederis could respect.

"Grand Arcanist." He stated, finally finding her tentage amongst the others.

Azriah emerged from her tent after an attendant had ducked their head between the flaps to inform her of Dawnward Emberheart waiting outside. With a nonchalant wave of the hand, her magic put the desk in order where there had hitherto been countless letters and logs and brainstorms sprawled. With her affairs in order, Azriah exited the tent to see Sederis awaiting her atop his courser. She inclined her chin with his greeting and folded her hands before her abdomen, making a subtle shift in her posture to convey her authority even if he literally stood taller than her.

"Dawnward Emberheart," She greeted smoothly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He climbed off his horse to match her height, giving her both a salute and the same sharp nod from before. "Lady Thelryn," he greeted her, "I came to ask for help." Sederis cut to the chase, owing to the fact that not only did he know that Azriah suffered no fools, but that time was fleeting, doubly so in wartime.

Azriah surveyed the bustling war-camp around them with a contemplative gaze and then settled her attention on Sederis, scrutinizing him with a look that seemed as if it could infer more than just what met the eye. She raised her chin slightly in a gesture of approval toward his brevity. "Help with what?" She prompted, arching a dark brow.

Sederis could still smell the acrid scent of burning flesh in the air. He couldn't tell if it came from the battlefield, or from the aid station where they treated the wounded. "I'm gathering as many forces as I can to head north to Sunstrider Isle. I won't mince words. I aim to relieve the Emberglades. It's besieged by several battalions at least and I'm not sure how long they'll hold them. I-" his voice faltered for a moment, before regaining the composition of a true soldier. "I cannot fail them. As their Lord, it is my duty to protect them, and I intend to do exactly that." He paused, letting the information sink in for a moment. "The Emberglades needs your help Lady Thelryn. I need your help."

Azriah listened as Sederis described his plan and predicament. What obviously tore at his heart found little compassion in her, as evidenced by her unchanged features beyond an expression of mild attentiveness. "We are all compromised so in this war, Emberheart. Goldenshade lays nearly unprotected to the south, and the Emberlight may face a front of two enemies should the Alliance deign to join the trolls." She paused, contemplating his words. "The Emberglades lay on the northern border of Sunstrider Isle, correct?" She angled her head slightly. "Perhaps I might be inclined to assist were there something to allow me incentive to put your lands over the welfare of mine own."

He nodded. Sederis could not imagine what it must be like for the Lords and Ladies of Southern Quel'thalas. At least he was in a position to ride North to relief his people. For Azriah, or Vaelrin... It must feel like they've been forced to abandoned their people. "With the others, I persuaded with strategy. Push north, capture Sunstrider isle, use it as a staging ground to retake Quel'danas. But I understand that your priorities lie to the South." Sederis paused. "I am willing to offer this: There is a sanctum on the Isle, still functional, still able to transport battalions across Quel'thalas. You help me save my people, I *will* help you save yours."

She seemed to take the logistics appeal in better humor than the emotional. Azriah raised a hand to touch her chin, and her brows furrowed slightly as the great gears of her mind churned in a vision of how this would play out. She nodded slightly, as if in answer to a question that had risen unspoken in her mind. After a long deliberation, she gave her reply. "Sunstrider Isle could prove to be a useful staging ground for the operations to come. I suppose I can see the benefit of this plan. I am interested in your promise of assistance, however. How can I trust you to keep to your word?"

Sederis remained unfazed by the question. "Because I am my word." He states like a matter of fact. "My vassal Lords give me trouble because they think it's a weakness. That I'd rather strike a problem at its root rather than be underhanded. But that is how I was raised, and it is who I am. I swear, on my honor and by the people of the Emberglades, that I will uphold my end of the bargain."

Azriah frowned as he went on, studying him with a degree of disbelief. It almost caught her afoul of her mood, but she hung on to a courtly composure by just a thread. So it was that in a manner as if discussing table linens or the latest fashion, she declared: "I would have you swear it by blood. Promise that when this is done, you and yours will rise to the aid of House Thelryn should the time come."

He took measure of her and her offer. Though he was all too willing to give in to her demands- willing to pay any price for his people- this was a promise that would be made for all The Emberglades. He wasn't going to make that decision for them. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake, not again. Sederis spoke, showing no hint of anger. Just a cold indifference to the appearance of her rising temper. "I will swear by word alone. If my honor means that little to you, then I'm afraid we are done speaking."

She held him in that stare-down for a few moments yet, letting his words fall on her ears like beats of the war drums. There was a quiet strength to be found in the calm way he held his ground, and though his choice mildly grated on her, she found his resolve to be worthy of respect. Where so many could be so easily backed into corners shaking and shivering, he held firm to his terms. So it was that she conceded the point of the blood oath, sighing softly through her nose before she gave her verbal assent. "Very well. I will move my battalion north to the Sunstrider Isle. I expect our only chance of success in this conflict lies in strategic, unified fronts. We will spear through Everleigh's forces and recover the isle. When it is done, if aught threatens Goldenshade or the Emberlight, you will move to help me. Do we have a final agreement?"

Sederis nodded with affirmation. "We do," he said, surveying the battlefield one final time before a runner bearing the sigil of the Emberglades came barreling through the camp. Reaching his liege, the messenger saluted before handing him a parchment. It did not bother him that he was interrupting a meeting between two officers, so it was clear by his urgency that it must have been important. Sederis read one line of the news before crushing it in anger. "The last stronghold of The Broken Bulwark has fallen." He explains.

Azriah gave a curt nod. She arched her brows as the runner approached, observing Sederis carefully as he read the missive. The news found her in impassive humor. "I daresay our work is cut out for us."

Sederis saluted. "I'd be lying if I said that it give mes no pleasure to slay every member of the Alliance on the Isle." He resaddled himself, intending to rally his Honorguard to the defense of their homeland. "Time will tell."

Atop a battered hillside, scarred and bloody, stood a lone fortress. Once it had alabaster walls, standing tall and proud over the borderlands between the Glades and the Isle. It was called The Lancer’s Perch, once home to famous knights of the realm. Before the Bulwark was broken by the scourge. Like it was about to be again.

“Lord Tarsaren!” Dame Everliegh called out to the spell-charred walls of the final castle of The Broken Bulwark, and the only thing standing between the Alliance and the Emberglades proper. “You and your men have fought valiantly, the evidence to that lay all around us.” She gestured to the broken bodies of her men that were piled against the fortress like snowdrift. “Lay down your arms, and I promise you safe passage back to the Emberglades. No one else needs to die today. There is no dishonor in saving the lives of your men.” The blood price had been a steep one. Of the five thousand men Dame Everleigh had started the conquest of The Broken Bulwark, less than a few hundred now remained.

“Lady Everleigh.” Lord Tarsaren replied, his booming voice echoing off the shattered ramparts. “I don’t think you understand. It doesn’t matter that there is no dishonor in surrender. We’re just… Unfamiliar with the term.” Muffled laughter rose from within The Lancer’s Perch. “Do you see these lands mi’lady?” Tarsaren stretched his arms out as if to encompass the world around him. The mountains and the forest at their feet. The lush fields of deep green and gold. “The Men of the Black Banner were gifted these lands because we stayed. We stayed when the Scourge came. We stayed and we fought. In the forests and hills. In the valleys and mountain passes. In the cities that no longer exist. Through blood and blight, we earned our places here. Loved ones lay all around us, beneath our feet, and we’d be happy to join them. At long last.”

Dame Everleigh pressed her lips together, looking back to the men who had followed her banner this far. To the ends of the world. “So be it.” She muttered, signalling her men to begin their final assault.

As The Lancer’s Perch fell, so did The Broken Bulwark. But all the Alliance claimed that day were martyred lives and broken ruins. Without walls to protect her men from the remaining forces of the Emberglades, Dame Everleigh had no choice but to retreat beyond the mountain pass.There would be no winners at the Emberglades that day.

Only the dead.

Art by Chao Yuan Xu

@retributionpriest @forever-afk @thanidiel @jessipalooza @stormandozone @thenaaru @dorksworn @azriah @felthier @thesunguardmg

#The Sunguard #Phoenix Wars #Sederis #RP #The Emberglades

34 notes · View notes