#Velianor Novastorm

[thedragonisaprincess]

Howl In The Dawn

The first sign of daylight had lightened the night sky into a muted purple, and the Sunguard’s main camp seemed quiet save for the guards getting ready to be relieved of their shift; perhaps those who were early risers had begun to stir in their tents. Snow was still present, and though the cold nights had not been quite as harsh as before, the ground was becoming more wet as signs of Spring were beginning to show with a gradual melt and crunch of those white hillsides and banks.

Approaching from the east, a dire wolf as massive as many of the cavalry’s warhorses and nearly camouflaged by her pale sand-colored fur, slow and tired from an arduous journey. One guard who was a volunteering fighter from The Farstriders recognized the beast and allowed The Blonde through, though curious and somewhat alarmed that the wolf was alone; missing the woman she was bonded to. Tied at the neck and hidden under The Blonde’s thick, winter guard hairs was a satchel that seemed to be made from skins of animals recently caught. Determined to reach her target, The Blonde did not stop to let the Farstrider check this satchel, and walked her way silently through the camp with only the crunch of snow beneath her paws alerting her presence.

The scent of Ethalarian Dawnstalker and Nuellen’s wolf Moro grew stronger and eventually The Blonde had arrived in time to greet the Blood Knight when he walked out from his tent, still pulling himself from a restless sleep.

His reaction, understandably, was one of immediate shock and then panic. He began to look around the immediate area The Blonde was standing, “Where is she?! Where-- Where is Nuellen?!”

He addressed the dire wolf directly, knowing the connection The Blonde and Amarr had to Nuellen, and seemed to understand general feelings and intentions from others. Yet, all the wolf did was wag her tail gently and lean forward to lick the entire left side of his face with the broad side of her tongue. He seemed to grow more frustrated and was about to continue his fruitless interrogation of a four-legged creature, but forced himself to calm as he watched The Blonde sit back onto the snow and yawn wide, lifting her head to expose the leather pouch tied to her neck.

The surge of concern and adrenaline made Larry’s hands shake as he went to untie and remove the pouch. Another deep breath was needed before he opened the pouch, not caring to admire the fact that somehow Nuellen had pulled enough twine from her supplies to sew the damn thing together.

Inside were three pieces of parchment folded neatly and marked on the outside with different sets of initials: BK E.D., AK A.B., and Arch. T.T.

He quickly identified which initials belonged to their person and made to remove his letter, but his eye caught the glint of metal resting at the bottom of the pouch. He reached and felt his heart sink as he pulled forth two necklaces; one of which was very familiar to him. Thinking the worst already, he looked down and pulled his letter. He only read what was addressed to him, but after some time, he dressed and left his tent once more, letters in hand and moving to make sure they were delivered to their intended recipient.

Nuellen’s Messages:

Under The Cut

Ethalarian,

I write this as I camp somewhere on the far Eastern side of Quel’Thalas, between a mountain range and perhaps a few weeks walk to The Goldsea; it’s a bit hard to tell right now. I don’t plan to linger very long here, and I don’t know how long this message will take getting to you, so I can only say that I’m alive and have avoided most conflict. I’m uninjured, if a little hungry, most of the prey animals are keeping warm and out of the snow.

These weeks of tracking have been almost too long - Amarr and The Blonde caught scent of Kipcha and we followed her trail as some allies were trying to get her to lead them to Velianor’s location, but Kipcha broke away and ran back the way they were traveling. I expect perhaps Frostblaze is injured and she was returning to her mate... Instead of turning back, we pressed forward; lost the scent a few times, but have finally found something.

Time has worn away any sort of direction Veli and her pack were headed, but someone had her on the run. I found wolf bodies, well worn by decay, but no sign of Velianor or a body. I’ve been canvassing the area for the better part of two weeks now; I may have found a site where she could have fallen, but there’s no signs of a body, nor any kind of scavenging. I have a fresher scent now, though...

I also have proof that I’ve made headway and have packed them with these letters to you, Aestus, and The Archon; I remember catching a glance of her wearing these necklaces a few times and I assume they weren’t removed voluntarily.

There is no trail, so Amarr and I will circle and widen the area for any possible signs or routes that she could have taken. I will not assume that she has been taken captive or killed.

I’ve done some training of my own with Amarr and The Blonde. I believe they now will have a connection to my well being, similarly to Velianor and her wolves but not quite as strong. The Blonde is to remain with you and Aestus for the time being, but if she will let you know if something is wrong.

I love you. This will have a positive outcome. Believe in that.

-Nuellen

P.S. Please make sure that Archon Truefeather gets my report.

Aestus,

I write this as I camp somewhere on the far Eastern side of Quel’Thalas, between a mountain range and perhaps a few weeks walk to The Goldsea; it’s a bit hard to tell right now. I don’t plan to linger very long here, and I don’t know how long this message will take getting to you, so I can only say that I’m alive and have avoided most conflict.

Finding our Velianor has not been easy, and it remains a challenge, but I believe I’ve made progress finally and now have more to work with.

Bad News first: Much of her pack has been eliminated, it seems. Some kind of skirmish happened and she was forced to retreat but not without pursuit. I found the necklaces I’ve sent with The Blonde hanging from a tree in one valley section, but I also found a few other signs that Amarr and I could get a solid scent from.

Better News: I have not found any evidence of a body or scavenging from other animals. This means she’s not here and I will continue to track her down. It will still take some time to circle the area and extend our search, but I’m confident Amarr and I will catch up to her. Wherever she is.

I realize this message may bring you and Ethalarian more distress, but keep your head clear. Don’t let the Worst Scenario worm it’s way to you. There’s something in my bones telling me that she isn’t gone from this realm; certainly you feel the same thing?

Keep hold of that feeling.

I’ll find her; and we will return together. Keep breathing.

-Nuellen

Archon Telchis Truefeather,

Nuellen Swiftstrike, Pathfinder Dawnward and Farstrider Ranger-Captain, writing to you in regards to the whereabouts and status of fellow Dawnward Velianor Novastorm. Apologies, first off and also in hindsight, for departing without previous approval from Superiors; this mission to track and locate the Dawnward started and has only been one of Personal and Emotional gain to myself and other members who are close to Velianor. However, I am acting alone and did not attempt to convince anyone else to join me; any repercussions for my actions against orders, I will accept when I return with Dawnward Novastorm, alive or otherwise.

I’m unaware of her reason for being so far from any other units, but that is not a concern to me, at current... Only that myself and others were alerted by one of her bonded wolves that something severely wrong had happened to her and the wolf pack she travels with. She had escaped the main camp and I decided to follow.

I’ve managed to track down a site along the mountainside South East of The Goldsea that I believe she had encountered an enemy force and retreat was required. However, the retreat was followed - perhaps harried - as many of her wolves are now rotting in the snow. The body of the Dawnward in particular was not discovered, nor have there been signs of any scavenging in the area; not even a finger bone was located. I have, however, found a lead and have chosen to follow it. If I find she is captured by any enemies, I will send my black Dire Wolf Amarr with notice and continue to track, but I will not engage. Otherwise, if she is found recovering or otherwise, I will report to the nearest camp with Dawnward Novastorm in my care.

I understand this is a minor update among events that are far more important. Please consider this letter an official report of investigation for The Sunguard’s archives.

Light and Lady Aessina Keep You Safe,

Nuellen Swiftstrike Alah’ni

Long Overdue Post Regarding Velianor Novastorm’s Phoenix War Stories: Planting Seeds in a Garden You Never Get to See and What’s Left Behind while eventually leading up to The Forgotten Pt. 1 / Pt. 2

Tagged For Mentions: @ocarina-of-what // @theletter27 ( @shampoocommercialelves ) // @trained-trainwreck ( @ethalarian) // @felthier ( @thesunguardmg )

[redarrowhouse]

Blood on the snow

Preface: Read http://ocarina-of-what.tumblr.com/post/182736834669/whats-left-behind first, as this picks up almost immediately after the arrival of Frostblaze and Kipcha.

He knelt at the mouth of the cage, undoing the last clasps around the muzzles.  Dried blood flecked his fingertips, sticky in the cold and bright against the white fur and snow.  A voice was trying to talk to him, faint, maybe one of the stable hands pulling at his shoulder.  They’d said something about the wolves fighting like demons, but it didn’t really register.  Frostblaze and Kipcha were back.  Without her.  

They never left without her.  

Never.

Cold hands combed through white fur, voice soft as Ithranicus tried to be as soothing as possible.  Kipcha, freed from her muzzle, nipped at him, trying to tear those same fingers away from the man invading their space.  

Anger, and rage.  So much anger and rage.  

“Kipcha, it’s me.  It’s Ith.  See?”

The glove on his free hand was pulled off, the uncovered hand offered to the raging wolf.  If they were as intelligent as Veli implied, the wolf would understand.  

“I’m not here to hurt you.  I’m not here to hurt you.  I’m not here to hurt you, Kipcha.”  

A soothing hand roamed through Frostblaze’s fur, while his other hovered just out of reach from the snapping jaws and razor teeth.  It became something of a game; every attempt at touch was rewarded with an attempt at shredding his hand, mouth and fingers playing back and forth in their dance.

“Go ahead, Kipcha.  Sate your rage.  It’s okay.”  

The early rays of the sun settled against the snow, rising on another day.  Peeking through the stable doors and spilling over the animals kept therein, brilliantly lighting the cold white fur on Frostblaze’s flanks and muzzle.  Dusty gold fur settled next to him; Kipcha lay nuzzled against her mate in fitful slumber.  Pinned against the wall, crimson and gold resplendent in the morning light despite the dirt and fur besmirching the colors, Ithranicus stirred as the light spilled across his eyes.  Rising, ensuring the injured pair weren’t disturbed, he quietly slipped free of the cage.  

Velianor, his old apprentice, was missing and hurt.  He had to know what happened to her, wanted to go himself- but that wasn’t feasible.  He had people counting on him now, had a command of his own, had to make decisions with other people’s lives.  The days of dropping everything to run into the wilds were closing fast, it seemed.  Another would have to go in his place.  

“Kipcha.  Frostblaze.”  

One eye snapped open, narrowed and hungry.  A second rolled to attention, hurt and pained.  

“Ready to go find her?”

Clad in heavy furs against the cold, cradling a rifle half his own height, Anokirin Sunstalker left the Sunguard camp a few hours after dawn broke.  With him came a dusty gold wolf, reluctant to leave, but determined to go.  A hunting party.  

Together they trotted into the cold and the snow, trails dark with blood and chaos, Kipcha leading the way to the last known places that her master had been. Velianor was not going to be left behind.  

@ocarina-of-what 

[theislesunfamily]

A Letter to Elleynah Stormsummer [You Break, We All Break]

The letter addressed to Elleynah Stormsummer is rather plain, but still formal enough, stamped with a seal belonging to House Islesun.

A blocky script contained within most definitely belongs to Ithanar, but it seems hastily put together with some spelling and grammatical errors here and there.

Elleynah,

I just wanted to apologize for my absence in the recent weeks. I know you have been busy, that we have all been busy, but some personal events have come up that I had to take care of.

There is no easy way to write this, to pen this out, but there is a chance I may not come back from said personal events.

I’ve left my family in shambles for too long now, and I want to give them one last thing to cling onto. I’m no leader for them, no shining example, but I will try my damndest to be one for them now.

With this all in mind, I have some requests in the case that I do not return, which seems quite likely given what I am headed into…

Tell Velianor I am sorry we never got to finish those swim lessons.

Tell Enne, the taller Illidari woman, and Seven, her Felstalker - it is a long story - that I am sorry I did not get to spend more time with them. I really enjoyed that pup, and her company of course although it was brief.

Tell Eldriana and Waralyon sorry that I was not able to enjoy their rather fine and hilarious company further.

Give Lirelle and Sederis my thanks for the wonderful company and drink the other night. I made the bed in their guest quarters before I left. I’m a grunt, but not a savage.

Tell the Spectre, the Knight-Captain, whatever title she goes by now - I’ve put a gift together for her and Bael’nar.

It’s sitting on my desk now as I look it over, but I won’t say for it’s a bit of a surprise.

Tell Bricini she still owes me coffee, yes, even if I am a ghost or spirit.

Give Synthiel my thanks for the conversation. She’s a mysterious one, but damn intriguing. I wish we had spoken more. 

Tell Zalin that he needs to protect you with everything he has, protect all of this. You two are the future.

Tell Dawnsworn that she needs to stop getting hurt in the infirmary, but she is damn good at her job and her giving a damn matters more than perhaps anything. 

Tell the Wildfire that she still owes me a truth.

She can make that up by giving such an “honor” to you.

Tell Nuellen that she assuaged my concerns about being some old and worn down soldier who couldn’t keep up with the Sunguard. Tell her thank you for that. 

Tell the Knight-Commander thank you for giving me a damn chance to prove.

If you ever run into a woman named Qeren Brightmantle, let her know that she was fantastic and that green was her color. Most definitely. Make sure she is alright, at least for my sake.

Finally, thank you. You keep doing what you think is right, Elleynah, for you have a good sense for it.

I’m sorry we didn’t have the chance to spend more time together, to go explore ruins, to go seek out some ancient runes, to see the world, to continue our friendship but don’t mourn me. Do that all for me, would you? 

There are good things ahead.

Ithanar

This letter remains on Ithanar’s desk. 

It was never sent.

No, instead a note has been scribbled on the far right corner.

He’s coming back.

I’m not sending this.

[bamicommissions]

Commission for ocarina-of-what, Velianor Novastorm.

[brothersemberfell]

Quick Bio: Thordemar Emberfell

General information——

FULL NAME: Thordemar Ashelanar Emberfell

NICKNAME(S): Thor, Thunderfoot, Bumblebee

TITLE(S): Dawnward of the Sunguard. Artisan Engineer. Lord of the Emberwood

AGE: 129 (whatever a 32 year old human equivalent is)

BIRTHDAY: September 7th

RACE: Sin’dorei

GENDER: Male

MARITAL/RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Taken & Courting

Physical appearance——

HAIR: Long, platinum blonde. Often worn up in a high tail or braided with flowers

EYES: olive.

HEIGHT: 6′1″.

BUILD: Athletic, rugged. Large hands, solid frame. Stocky in the legs.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Faded scar down his cheek from his left eye. Missing his right arm, entirely replaced with a fully functional titansteel prosthetic.

TATTOOS: Runic markings stretch the surface of his prosthetic arm, but otherwise no others.

PIERCINGS: None.

COMMON ACCESSORIES: Arcane goggles, motorcycle keys, a sword at all times (probably sleeps with it under his bed too) Enchanted flowers twined in his hair.

personal information——

PROFESSION: Engineer / Soldier.

HOBBIES: Tinkering/modding his bike. working his garden, smithing craft, fixing broken things, fixing things that aren’t broken, breaking things, caring/riding animals, sharpening his outdoors-man skills. Early morning rides on his motorcycle through Silvermoon and avoiding getting caught for noise complaints.

SKILL(S): Mechanical and magical engineering, metalsmithing, martial combat, sword & board, animal husbandry, gardening, woodworking, siege weapons, and strategy against fortified targets.

LANGUAGE(S): Thalassian, Common, Orcish.

RESIDENCE: His parents’ land, the Emberwood, 150 acres of south western Thalassian forest where he erected a homestead. His brother, Felo’thore, and two neighboring coworkers, Avada & Thinariel live on nearby plots. @emberfallen @pyrosophist

BIRTHPLACE: Fairbreeze Village, Quel’Thalas.

PATRON DEITY: Belore

FEARS: Losing loved ones.

relationships——

SPOUSE (lady friend):

Xenus Everdusk @sakialyn

CHILDREN:

4 thalassian tomato plants he’s given names to in his garden (otherwise none yet)

PARENTS:

Selea (Ashelanar) Emberfell (mother, deceased) Rhandelen Emberfell  (father, deceased)

SIBLINGS:

Felo’thore (Emberfell) Novastorm (brother, alive)

OTHER RELATIVES:

Xelda Ashelanar (Aunt, alive) Lord Laedron Ashelanar (maternal grandfather, alive & salty) Adrianal Novastorm (brother-in-law, alive) Velianor Novastorm (sister-in-law, alive) @ocarina-of-what

traits——

• extroverted / introverted / in between.

• disorganized / organized / in between.

• close minded / open-minded / in between.

• calm / anxious / in between.

• disagreeable / agreeable / in between.

• cautious / reckless / in between.

• patient / impatient / in between.

• outspoken / reserved / in between.

• leader / follower / in between.

• empathetic / indifferent / in between.

• optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

• traditional / modern / in between.

• hard-working / lazy / in between.

• cultured / uncultured / in between.

• loyal / disloyal / in between.

• assertive / timid / in between

additional information—— —

SMOKING:  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

extra——

FACIAL REFERENCE(S): I draw inspiration from Arrow man from JC Leyendecker’s illustrations and a bit of Chris Hemsworth.

ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral.

TAGGED BY: @captainswingbeard

TAGGING: @please-respond @moonunveiled @magistrixvoidchaser @thenaaru @tyleril-silversword @shampoocommercialelves @mori-sketchbook and anyone I mentioned above

[teechew]

Magelyn Goldenwheat

Appearance -

Gender: Female

Race: Sin’dorei

Height: 5'1

Eye Color:  Fel Green

Hair Color: Dark auburn

The Facts -

Name Day: 13th October

Occupation: Pathfinder initiate, Stable girl

Sexual identification: Heterosexual

Romantic identification: Aromantic

Alignment: Chaotic Good 

Criminal History: Her family have been wrongfully accused of thief when they were non-sedentary

Relationship Status: Single

Favorites –

Favorite food: She has a sweet tooth and will devour anything sugary

Favorite drink: Fruit juice

Favorite artist: Anyone singing better than her brothers

Favorite scents: she adores the smell of warm wheat or humid wood. The smell of a delicious dishe on the stoove is also one of her favorite.

Favorite person(s): Her family, Tyleril Silversword, Velianor Novastorm. She didn't met and know the others much but she's sure she'll like them !

Randoms –

Ten facts about your muse:

⚫ Her family used to be wanderer before settling down a barn in the south of Eversong. Magelyn was quickly used to walk for hours a day and thus isn't repelled by any distances she might have to travel.

⚫ During said wanderer period she and her brothers had to « work » to earn some coins to eat. She learned acrobatic tricks to do in the street and so devellopped a thin frame that is incredibly flexible. She kept working in that talent once her family settled.

⚫ Dut to them being wanderers, her family often was accused of stealing wherever they were staying for the night. Magelyn was too young to remember the truth but she's pretty sure her parents would have never steal. Now her brothers are an other story...

⚫Even if her family respect the Light religion, her father never raised her into praying. « Work hard to get what you want. Don't wait some for some miracle to happen. »

⚫ She inherited of her father's metabolism. Her brothers and mother are chubby and strong while she and her father are thin twigs.

⚫ She's the youngest of a family of 7. That's without counting the many uncles, aunts and cousins. She has 4 older brothers :  Bard the elder is the most calm, Elmund, and Tiloviel are twins and very rowdy, always trying to proove each other who's best. Fandryl is the closest to Magy and the one she had learn acrobatic with.

⚫She loves fashion ! She doesn't have the money to follow it as much as she would but love to strol in the city and look at the clothing of everyone.

⚫ She owns a very old Hawkstrider that she called Pepe. He's very tired and doesn't run anymore but her dad wanted her to have it for her adventure.

⚫ She can be considered poor as she left with her only saving and refused any help from her family.

⚫ She did the do once with a neigbour farmboy. It was very disapointing and they got grounded afterward.

Five Things -

Things they like:

Fashion show

Cute animals

Feeling physically tired after a busy day at work

A warm bath

Her teeth gap

Things they dislike:

Storms

Whithered

Thief

Demons

Zanarian

Good habits:

Hard working

Social

Brave when friends are in danger

Early bird

Thrifty

Bad Habits:

Sassy and impulsive when angry

Sore loser

Coward at first

Easily-impressed

Talkative

Personalities they gravitate toward:

Social

Down-to-earth

Charismatic

Good sense of humour.

Relaxed

Personality types they avoid:

Preacher

Cruel

Depressed

Snoot Nobles

Loudmouth

Fears:

Ghosts and scary things

Getting hurt and hurting

Big open sea

Demons

M'lady Spectre Esme

Tagging: @vaard - @mori-sketchbook - @maz-i - @lupusdraconis  and anyone else who want to do it !!

[swingbeard]

Character Profile Meme: Ithanar Islesun

(Because ALL THE COOL KIDS ARE DOING IT.)

Full Name: Ithanar Islesun

Other Names: Ithan, Ith - he only allows a few people to call him by a shorter version of his name.

Universe They Exist In: World of Warcraft

Gender and Sexuality: Cisgender male, bisexual

Pronouns: He/Him

Ethnicity/Species: Sin’dorei (Blood Elf)

Birthplace and Birthdate: Almost six hundred years ago on the Isle, a small landmass off the northwestern coast of Quel’thalas.

Guilty Pleasures: “Sappy” romantic literature*. He has a few novels here or there, but he’ll never tell you where there are exactly.

* “Don’t you dare judge me. I’m five-hundred and eighty nine. I deserve to switch up what I read every so often!”

As for not-so-guilty pleasures? Drinking (wine or liquor), sex, and sleeping in too late a little too often (especially recently).

Phobias: Necromancy, the Scourge.

What They Would Be Famous For: His exploits as a Spellbreaker and member of Silvermoon’s military before his first retirement. Ithanar participated in an array of high-profile skirmishes, conflicts, and battles against the Amani Trolls, the Horde, and other enemies, even going as far as to lead his own squadron of Spellbreakers.

Following his first retirement, he took up a position as an instructor for a few different Spellbreaking schools throughout Quel’thalas. Those who went through Spellbreaker training may remember or may not.

What Have They/Would They Gotten Arrested For: He may have gotten in trouble here or there with the Kirin Tor for a few things, mainly involving escapades with younger apprentices or mages. Illegal teleportations and portals may have a little something to do with that*.

** “Listen, when you’re young? You do some funny things.”

OCs You Ship Them With: None… yet.

Your Favorite OC Relationships: Ithanar gets along rather well with @stormandozone‘s character Elleynah Stormsummer; there’s a really nice friendship building between the two (she kicked his ass during a training session, so he’s damn impressed). 

He also enjoys the company of Eldriana, Enne Treesinger, Waralyon, Aureate, and that wonderful Felstalker pup Seven (all of these characters belong to @sparklepriest and @notdavidbowie.) 

He’s beginning to develop a bit of a friendship as well with @ocarina-of-what’s character Velianor Novastorm (as he’s teaching her how to swim). @thedragonisaprincess‘s character Nuellen Swiftstrike is a good ally who’s poked fun at him for moaning about how old he is (because she’s older than him). He’s had a few conversation with @retributionpriest‘s character Lirelle here and there, and enjoys her no-nonsense attitude (that’s what he’s seen at least) along with her company in general.

He’d like to get to know a few people better like Cere’thien, Vaelrin, and fel, even Kaltaia (when she’s not wrecking the infirmary) at some point. 

(Those characters belong to @lissanaria| @forever-afk | @azriah respectively in that order.)

Oh, and he owes @jessipalooza‘s character Bricini coffee SOON.

(And Qeren Brightmantle, who is @entropytea‘s character, because that trip to Dalaran a hundred years ago or so was a REAL interesting affair… in a good way.)

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: His twin sister Ildrielen. She’s not his biggest fan (and you will learn why rather soon).

Favorite Book Genre: Any sort of history book, even if it’s historical fiction. He loves reading about ancient ruins and civilizations.

Least Favorite Book Cliche: An ending that leaves you hanging and forces you to buy the next book in the series. If he could just buy the series in one big tome, he’d be rather happy; unfortunately, that isn’t always the case.

Talents and/or Powers: A bit of a spoiler, which was hinted at in an earlier story… Ithanar is no longer able to use his Spellbreaking abilities for reasons he won’t say.  

In fact, only one person is aware of this ICly at the moment.

However, that doesn’t mean he’s powerless. No, Ithanar can fight... and well, with centuries of combat experience under his belt, having skill in a variety of weapons. He has a solid enough grasp on battlefield tactics and can command a small squad of soldiers, but anything more than that isn’t his forte.

He also possesses a rather solid knowledge and vocabulary of runes, able to draw them out with ease and quickly or dispel them with a counter-rune or other enchantment. This is a skill he’s picked up over years of relic-hunting, whether with his brother Ithaerin, on his own, or with other acquaintances.

Why Someone Might Love Them: Because he’s an old snarky asshole sometimes with a quip here or there, or he can be a lovable old elf dad who does his best to protect his newfound friends.

He has purpose again and feels driven to defend Quel’thalas, and Azeroth, at large. Ithanar caring about something again after everything’s happened? That’s something worth liking him for. It took a lot for him to come back (even if he doesn’t show it).

Why Someone Might Hate Them: Because he can be an old snarky asshole sometimes? It has its ups and downs. He also keeps his emotions to himself and plays his cards close to his chest in public, so some might find that a bit aggravating or annoying.

Certain family members may not like him because of things he did after the Fall which ensured House Islesun would remain dormant/inactive like many of the other noble families which have begun to rebound, albeit a bit slowly for some.  

Why You Love Them: I haven’t been playing Ithanar for too long now, but he was a character who sat in my head for a good long time before I started working, developing, and eventually RPing the character. Whereas with other characters, I didn’t have much to work with, Ithanar has been a bit of a different case in that much of his story direction was figured out before I started RPing the character.

So far, it’s worked out well. I haven’t written this much for a World of Warcraft character in a long time, and I’m enjoying writing Ithanar along with the other Islesun siblings. I really look forward to seeing what happens next as he continues to interact with members of the Sunguard and other characters!

Why You Hate Them: Because I made a character who’s an “old battle-hardened hot dad”... again.

I have a bit of a type, okay?

Tag(s): ANYBODY!

[thedragonisaprincess]

Track’r

It was Amarr who woke her in the night, cold nose pressing to a foot and scaring her nearly out of her own skin. She would’ve fallen from her cot, had it not been for Ethalarian’s arm keeping her grounded, who had also started to wake when her startled gasp roused his own light sleep.

The direwolf’s head was poking into their tent, unable to fit the rest of his body within, but his anxiety hit her before she calmed down enough to scold him.

Something was wrong within the camp, but what was it? Then she heard the howling; distraught, almost frightened. It wasn’t any of her own pack.

“What is it?” Larry’s groggy voice came up.

“Let me check.”

The howling started to mix with desperate barks as Nuellen stepped out from their tent, and the sight of Velianor’s wolf Kipcha looking frightened and feral, trying to flee the camp grounds but almost confused by her fear and desperation. But for what?

The hair at the back of Nuellen’s neck stood and gooseflesh began to form.

Across the way, she spotted Aestus trying to calm the wolf down, but Kipcha was too far gone to even notice him.

A way out was found and the pale wolf began to run with the elves giving chase to the best of their abilities. All the way to the edge of the camp, but she had disappeared into the snowy forest.

Nuellen and Aestus stood there in silence, but sharing their looks of concern and fear. She heard her own wolves near her tent, baying and howling in grief.

Unacceptable. Absolutely not.

[More Under the Cut]

She entered her tent, lips pursed and silent as she began to dress and gather her supplies.

“What are you doing?” The Blood Knight frowned and stood to get her attention. “Nuellen, what’s happened?”

“I don’t know but something is wrong with Velianor. Kipcha wouldn’t have done that if she was fine.” Insulated clothes were pulled on and half her armor before Larry began to realize where Nuellen’s mind was at.

“You’re not serious about leaving are you?” She flashed him a look that said she was, but he continued, “You- But you can’t.”

“I can. I’m going to and I’m taking Amarr and The Blonde with me. Moro will stay here to help protect you and Aestus.” She pulled on the last of her heavier armor and stopped to look at him. He looked confused. Apprehensive. She knew why. Her ears lowered and she sighed out. “I have to look for her. That wolf’s reaction happened for a reason and I have to at least confirm if she can even be found. If she was wounded and captured, that could mean they have a means to pull info on us. If she’s-”

They both winced, seeming to know where her explanation was headed.

“I have to know. I have to at least find- her.” The Farstrider inhaled and she moved to wrap her arms around his body. “I’m going to track Velianor down and I’m going to return once I’ve found her. Hopefully, I will be able to bring her back with me.”

“This can’t happen again, Nuellen.” His own arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her antlered head closer to him. “If we’ve lost Veli; I can’t lose you too.”

“You won’t. Believe in me when I say that you won’t.”

They stayed like that only a few moments more before Nuellen pulled away to finish her packing, speaking low as she did so, “I’ll do my best to find some way to let you know I’m still around. But you have to stay here; it’s where you’re most needed, you know. Tracking is best done alone, anyway.”

“Yeah...” He was still frowning, sitting himself at their cot, “I don’t like this, Nue.”

“I don’t either.” She remained silent until she had her things ready to go, pulling it all together over a shoulder. She turned and approached Larry, cupping his face in her hands to have him look at her. “I love you, Ethalarian. I love you. I love Velianor, too, and Aestus. I’ll return to you and I’ll bring her back if I can.”

She felt his jaw clench more than once, but accepted her kiss when she leaned in to give it.

Amarr had been sitting outside the tent, waiting for her to emerge. His tail briefly pushed the snow around as it wagged, but he seemed to sense that something important was about to happen. Keeping her voice low, Nuellen called for her other wolves. The Blonde and Moro trotted from their hiding places, sitting near Amarr and waiting for Nuellen’s new commands. The smaller, dark brown wolf, Moro was left to keep Ethalarian company, understanding the commands to stay and listen to him, while the two direwolves, each the size of a destrier, accompanied their master.

Amarr ran ahead as Nuellen jumped onto The Blonde’s back, looking over her shoulder to give Ethalarian a smile, then set off into the still-dark and early morning with only large paw prints being left in the snow.

I’ll track her. I’ll track her... I’ll track’er. 

Track’r.

Response for Velianor’s ‘Planting Seeds’ piece, related to The Phoenix Wars campaign @the-sunguard-archives Tagged for Mentions: @theletter27 @trained-trainwreck @ocarina-of-what

[redarrowhouse]

A letter to a student

Velianor, 

This is the last time I’m using this method of letter sending, do you know how hard it is to wrangle this many finches?

I’d like to meet before we get mired down in this war.  Tomorrow, sundown.  We need to talk, and Hemorrhagic needs to be spoiled.

Ithranicus Redarrow

[theislesunfamily]

A Package and a Note for Velianor Novastorm

A medium sized package arrives to the infirmary at the Dawnspire late Wednesday night. Wrapped in simple brown paper, the package is delivered to Velianor Novastorm, one of the patients currently, per the instructions given to the courier.

There is a note attached to the right side of the package, blocky script obviously belonging to Ithanar. 

Velianor,

I am sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance during our defense against the Felskorn and Feltotem. Seeing you and your tree friend fall caused much more than a knot of worry in my gut. I was rather distraught, but such is battle. Knowing that you are alive brings me a great deal of relief and I do hope you’ll be back on your own feet soon again.

Besides we do have some more swimming lessons, now don’t we?

I will be by to see you when I can, of course, but in the meantime I put a little something together for you to enjoy when you can (and when you feel like you have a sweet tooth again).

Feel free to share with anybody else who may be in the infirmary.

P.S. If the Greenseer is around, please give her one too. She deserves more than a little something for all her hard work, but I intend to get to that later.

Tearing the brown paper off reveals a white box, and opening it reveals the contents within: fish-shaped cookies that, when broken apart, reveal a rather fine but delicious chocolate paste within. It seems Ithanar really enjoyed those swimming lessons enough that it inspired him to make these

@ocarina-of-what | @ladycerethien

[brothersemberfell]

Lunarwing II

[Part 1 Here] A writing collaboration with @nuellen @emberfallen & @ocarina-of-what

The Novastorm's tent in the Sunguard camp stood as it were, pitched the morning before. But to a keen ear and perhaps an even better sense of smell, something was especially amiss- for inside was a much different story. Only sorcery could have twisted the ground in such a way. The cot and furniture, trunk of clothes- food even were woven like threads through the upturned soil that lead into a deep burrow underground. The hole was too dark to see more than the few shed feathers and bloody soil. Nothing could be seen from the surface, yet a labored breath echoed through the chasm. Something big...and feathery was most certainly inside.

The once willowy astromancer leaned against the soily wall of his bewitched chasm in the ground brooding in the agony that wreaked his senses. He hid in the shrouded, contorted mass of feathers and flesh, his body caught between transformation, leaving him horrifically misshapen and wrought with embarrassment. White noise continued to ring his ears to madness, too distraught to focus such magics through his body smoothly. It was the trouble with every new form- the first the most painful and difficult to pass. But even in such disarray, Felo’thore sensed someone's presence, and the mass of feathers on his body twitched in apprehension when a familiar voice called down into the dark hole of his hiding.

"Hey, Felo'thore? It's Nuellen..." came the voice in a gentle tone. She’d been wandering the chapel grounds for the better part of the day, chewing on mint and basil leaves to distract her senses from the lingering demonic energies just outside the hallowed grounds. The off-putting presence of disturbed soil, feathers and blood had come to her on a breeze pushing through and prompted the Farstrider to investigate. There was no hesitation in a call made over the comms, slipping the stone-like device away when she was certain the other Dawnward Novastorm was on his way.

Some dust kicked up from the burrow and another sound followed Nuellen's words, but the voice that carried through the hole was one woven with exhaustion, lingering with an arcane reverberation. "No...." it bellowed, hoarse yet carrying the astromancer's lilt. "No...Don't come...in."

Nuellen was on full alert, so far as she was concerned, though she didn't fear any real outlashing from the Astromancer. "I'm already in the tent, friend... But I'll keep my distance. But I smelled blood. Are you - erm... Do you need anything?" Nuellen glanced back up toward the surface where the hole was created, and ultimately, the tent's entrance.

Adrianal had arrived, smelling like medicine and the thick, too-clean scent of the infirmary. "What is it?" he snapped, irritated to be drawn away from his work. But he paused, suddenly aware of Felo'thore's life force pulsing with such agony. "What's happened?" He ducked into their tent, flinching at the stench and giving a grunt. Behind him, Avada had frozen at the nearby commotion in curiosity and concern. She stepped a bit closer, her brow knitting further, hearing the alarm in the paladin’s voice and Nuellen’s soft words.

"No…!" came the words in a labored hiss. Felo'thore's thoughts were something turbulent  trying desperately to keep himself together. But hearing Adrianal's baritone come sharply to his ears, out of no control, his feathers lifted anxiously, pressing  tighter against the back wall of the dark burrow, clawing kicking up more dust. Another groan came followed by a loud whine echoed through the tunnel.

"I caught the scent from outside and came in to check on him... He's been unwell since last night. I remember he and Velianor were talking about Elune and her plans for him..." Nuellen said in a low voice before she heard more commotion down below. "I- let me help in any way I can. I'm worried."  

Adrianal gave a soft sigh, "He's been unwell for nearly two weeks now really..." Gently, he removed his gloves and set his heavy satchel down.

Nuellen shifted and allowed for Adrianal to head into the burrow, climbing back up to remove her bow and quiver, sticking it outside as a Farstrider sign that she was in no trouble. She greeted Avada with a nod and murmured quietly with her, crouching down against one of the walls, observing Adrianal and the beast that had become of the astromancer. Avada stood wringing her hands at the sounds coming from the cavern, knowing now whom it was in such pain. She caught sight of a rose gold glint and heard the shuddering of dozens of shifting feathers. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the strong, primal magical signature emanating from below.

"Dalah'surfal..." Adrian murmured, such love and affection in the normally stoic and outright unpleasant man's voice, hand alighting with gentle Light magic to illuminate his way, "My sweet Starshine. You're very uncomfortable aren't you? Let me have a look."

The wall of feathers shuddered and raised up in the dark of the burrow, only the backside of the massive creature Felo'thore had become was illuminated. Plumes larger than he had ever had before- unruly and overgrown, moving with his breath.

The paladin moved closer, gently brushing his Light engulfed hand to inspect those feathers, "Poor Starshine," he murmured lovingly, "These have been itching something awful as of late hmn? Where are you my darling..." slowly, a hand sank into the feathers, his life force curling and melding against Felo'thore's with ease, using his family, light-kissed power to ease some of the pain and irritation. With a soft 'aha' of a noise, he parted the feathers with a warm smile, finding the face of his husband, "There you are..."

Felothore 's distorted body shuddered and tensed, a deep hiss of relief echoing through the burrow as Adrianal's magic began easing the inflamed skin. Ever slowly did something clearer come of his mind, his harsh breaths softening to silence in the dark hollow. Feathers parted away to the astromancer's fair elven face, plumage breaking his pretty skin along his cheeks. Trembling, his glassy eyes stared back at Adrianal with both embarrassment and relief, words falling raggedly from his lips. "...When will ...it stop?"

"Don't you remember last time darling? You need to just let it happen. It will come in time, when you relax and let it." He gave a soft sigh, stroking a thumb along the astromancer's eyebrow and leaning forward, kissing his brow before his mouth, "Poor Starshine," Adrianal murmured lovingly, "All this focus on the Legion and your studies, and now our leaving of Cassiopeia...you must be quite stressed. You need to relax darling...and perhaps simply listen to what your body is trying to tell you."

How could he relax through the pain? - Felo’thore wanted to say it. But the words, a gentle stroke along his eyebrow and the kiss that lingered on his lip ... were something magic of their own. The stress of deployment and separation from the little girl he so tightly wove himself around had entirely consumed him like the disgruntled growth of feathers that had turned him into a monster. For a moment his silver eyes glanced past Adrian, seeing Nuellen kneeling nearby, and the shape of Avada standing supportively at the entrance to his little cave of brooding. What a dramatic thing he was, and yet love stared him squarely in the face regardless.

Felo'thore looked back to Adrian and lurched forward. The burn returned to his aching chest, but something....something was different about it. Something was........ At once, the mass of plumage lifted, shaking the burrow all around. Avada and Nuellen’s eyes both went wide as the monstrous heap of feathers engulfed the paladin, drowning the light in the tunnel and leaving none of the man in sight.

"I always hear myself best around you," Felo’thore murmured his thoughts with a silent mouth, holding Adrianal in his large talons so very delicately.

Adrianal gave a soft laugh, not at all afraid to be clutched in such a way, "You have much the same effect on me, my darling. Come now...lets see what this lovely new form of yours is."

Felo’thore turned his face, closing his eyes and catching the paladin’s lips in a moment of affection, wrapping the man tighter to him protectively as his body seemed to fill the tunnel with more of the large, broad feathers. The saffron plumes then twitched and lifted, expelling a strong gust through the dark hollow.

Avada inhaled sharply, her lips slightly parted as the feathers engulfed Adrianal and spilled from the strange burrow. "Gods, he's--" She didn't finish the thought aloud, instead wonder tugging her lips into a small smile. Nuellen sensed the change of atmosphere keeping herself crouched and bringing her own feathered cloak around to hide her face, preparing for whatever kind of assault of magic she was about to experience.

Eyes brightened with light flung open as a powerful surge of the astromancer's magic pulsed through air and waves of plumage like lighting, shaking the ground at their feet. Feathers swallowed Felo'thore's face completely and for a moment the entire cavern went completely dark- something sorcerous about it, as even Avada and Nuellen, outside the swell of feathers would see their vision darken to a curious midnight projection.

Avada released the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding in a soft sigh, feeling near weightless from the mysterious magic. The little winking lights of magic reflected in her eyes and she leaned in without meaning to, fascinated. Her smile faltered as a blaze of rose gold and a sudden, cushioning softness collected her. The ground snatched from beneath her feet spun away and she yelped, clinging instinctively. The fireflies of starlight had erupted from the dark and at first Adrian, then Nuellen and then Avada were swept up as a loud, bellowing hoot howled through the burrow and cracked into the open air.

The whoop of soft wingbeats and wind soaking their skin and hair, washing and fluttering fabrics and the rustle of air high in the sea of golden, tawny feathers. It was without a doubt, Felo'thore whom barreled out of the burrow, tore out of the tent and into the sky with the three of them clinging on.

Nuellen last remembered the fireflies before she found herself wrapped tightly around an immense, fluffy clawed foot, hanging with wonderment and surprise as they soared above the Sunguard encampment.

Adrianal gave a startled, slightly annoyed shout as he watched the floor spiral away from him and the canvas roofs of tents appear below. He gave a louder shout clamping his eyes shut. He -hated- flying, let alone flying on something he couldn't control with the flick of his mind.

Avada laughed aloud, clear and brilliant clinging firmly around his neck. "Felo'thore! This is incredible!"

Although precariously balanced, Nuellen looked up with amazement, "Magnificent!"

“Land this thing NOW!” Adrianal yelped in a frightened huff, accidentally tugging sharp on the thick feathers in his anxious fists.

A pained screech harked through the air, Felo’thore’s eyes large searching desperately for a place to land. Adrian's cries and tugs made him all the more nervous, wincing at the yank on his still very sensitive plumage and pitching a bit messily in the air.

But a swath of hay by the barn caught his sharp eye and the astromancer spread his wings out wide to coast, dropping Nuellen first, then Avada before clutching Adrian protectively to his chest as the two of them bowled into a huge, soft pile, decimating several bales in the process. The tumble for all of them at least cushioned.

Avada let out a joyous whoop, twisting expertly in the air to land on her back in the hay. She lay there for a few moments, breathing hard as the wind burnt tears dried from the corners of her eyes.

Adrianal gripped tightly to Felo'thore, huffing and puffing a moment, shaking off the panic. His gold eyes blinked open, slowly raising up his head, finally given a chance to look at what his husband had become. Felo’thore groaned from under the pile of hay his upper half was well under, the large bird on his back with his toes up in the air somewhat comically. The full length of his tail spilled several feet behind him in a blanket of golden plumage and his belly was as soft and ivory as the down seen in his moonkin form. But this was no moonkin, and this was far too large a bird to have been simply an owl.  His wings unfurled were something incredible, and his sheer size alone left Adrianal hovering in shock. A crescent crown of antlers jutted from his large head and his face a pale disc with opulent eyes centered with a sharp umber beak.

The shaken paladin looked over to Nuellen and Avada then, ensuring they were okay as he carefully climbed out from under a ruffled wing and slowly dragged himself from the hay to take a look at Felo'thore properly. "Well then..." he trembled, staring at his disheveled husband and the single foot sticking out in the air, "Well then...I must say...we will have to buy your talon polish in bulk with this..."

The farstrider popped up out of the hay bale she had landed in, realizing this shit was harder to swim in than other substances. She approached Felo’thore’s side curiously still shaking bits and pieces away from her with a soft laugh and smiled at the much larger talons, reaching to inspect their sharpness. Felo’thore 's foot made a few grasping motions before it surrendered to Nuellen’s inspection. The astromancer was simply far too exhausted from the ordeal to care.

"Your husband rivals the Skyhorn's war eagles now," she mused.

Adrianal rubbed his face, just letting out a sigh.

[rishnea]

A VERY early birthday doodle of veli for @ocarina-of-what Another shaky hand day? Why is it so hard to do traditional work now Lol

[thedragonisaprincess]

Nuellen Swiftstrike

(First photo; Worg/Wolves’ Names. In Order, top left to bottom right: Evina, The Blonde, Moro, and Amarr.)

Appearance -

Gender: Female

Race: Sin’dorei

Height: 5′6″ or 170cm

Eye Color: Jade/Teal Green

Hair Color: DARK Brown (Almost Black)

The Facts -

Birth/Name Day: March 15th

Occupation: Ranger-Captain of the 2nd Farstrider Battalion; Aerial Team Leader | Duskward Pathfinder of The Sunguard

Sexual identification: Bi/Pansexual (She’s still Unsure)

Romantic identification: Panromantic

Alignment: Neutral Good/True Neutral

Criminal History: To quote a similar answer in an older character meme: “Not a whole lot, but it would depend on where and when she was at the time. When Quel'Thalas was still allied with the humans, she probably would’ve been wanted in Lordaeron for disorderly conduct. Drunk in public. Fighting in an orcish tavern/inn. Probably punched a Blood Knight or two that really deserved it.”

Relationship Status: In a Relationship with @shahin. Though, Open sexually, after a long and very personal deliberation.

Favorites –

Favorite food: Warm and Buttered Bread, Freshly Cooked Meat, Fruit (ones that can be eaten on the go), Peaches Especially, Very Dark or Salted Chocolate, Cakes from Mellarue @mellonsilversun, Pies from Westel. @westelfirewing

Favorite drink: Coffee, Very Strong Ales/Meads (not picky about alcohol though.)

Favorite artist: “Why limit out any one or couple of artists? Art is a skill I appreciate in all it’s forms!”

Favorite scents: Freshly tanned leather, Damp Moss, Fur, Clean Hair, Wildflowers

Favorite person(s): In no particular order, she shares a great deal of love and affection for: Her Children, Velianor Novastorm @ocarina-of-what, Shahin, Alorinis Bloodarrow @chemicalbydefault, Westel Firewing, Laz’eehl of the Darkspear @eliryn, Cere’thien Blackwood @lissanaria (she doesn’t know her well, but wants to know more about her), as well as a few members from Stormblade Clan and The Sunguard.

Randoms –

Ten facts about your muse:

⚫ Nuellen can sketch almost every thing that she observes with an alarming amount of accuracy. However, she does not find this an artistic skill, but more of a necessary one for her past scouting jobs. She has a number of personal, leather-bound journals that she has made for herself to carry with her wherever she goes, be it for just casual observations of everyday life, or for something that she might spot that seems... suspicious. She will be able to sketch whomever or whatever she’s seeing.

⚫ Most people who have never met her or know about who she is, will automatically assume her current parents are her biological ones. This is not true; she was orphaned at a young age and had three older brothers who could not care for her. She was a ward to the Farstriders and after practically raising her of his own accord, Alorinis Bloodarrow decided to adopt Nuellen, and later legitimize her as a true daughter of his.

⚫ Due to the fact above this one, she almost never uses her new family name, except in political events she’s required to attend on Alorinis’ lands, The Grove; or, in social functions where using her newly acquired title as a noblewoman would be a favorable boon toward her interactions.

⚫ When she’s out scouting, she will actually pack a few fiction novels with her for when those hours of nothing happening show up while she’s out. Her favorite fictional genres are Mystery and-- Steamy Romance Novels.

⚫ One day! When the timing is right to finish her story... She will become a druid that follows the teachings of Aessina. Her long time struggle with “The Nightmare Pack” as I call them, is in reality, her latent druidic powers that she has repressed since childhood. Instead of just laying dormant, these powers have been lashing back out at her, making her believe she’s being influenced by The Nightmare.

⚫ She actually, doesn’t much care for Raptors. Those that know her, would be privy to the knowledge that one of her many animal companions is a Raptor named Ergrer. She originally saved him from another pack of Durotar Raptors that were trying to kill him for his different, more easily to spot, coloration; kind of like wild animals with albinism. Before this, however, she had the misfortune of being ambushed by Stranglethorn Raptors and lost a beloved companion before she could escape the pack.

⚫ While she has a respect and like for individual members of the Forsaken, as a whole, she is actually very unnerved by their presence. This nervousness around them is increased when she’s aware of, or near the presence of Lady Sylvanas, mostly because she still recognizes the woman as her former Ranger-General. Logic and knowledge of all the past things that they have helped (or not) with keeps her silent, but she believes that all in all, the dead should remain dead. This is the same for Death Knights.

⚫ When conscious of them, Nuellen can hide her emotional tells fairly well, but she almost never notices when she begins to chew on her cheek during moments of high tension, unease, or deep in thought.

⚫ Her friend and old battle buddy Laz’eehl has taught her some of his Rogue secrets and they used to sneak around Silvermoon City or Orgrimmar and snicker quietly to themselves about some of the people or scenes they would find, thinking they really were alone.

⚫ Nuellen loves winter time, but she hates the cold weather/air for one reason, really... The wound that is located on her left hip/leg will get stiff and uncomfortable. It’s a poorly healed wound, first from a Worgen warrior, then cauterized improperly, so the joints and musculature located around that wound are a little more sensitive to the cold atmosphere.

Five Things -

Things they like:

Dancing

Sleeping In

Listening to Songbirds

Laughter

Cool Autumn Mornings

Things they dislike:

High, Sharply Pitched Noises

The Smell of Rot

Blatantly Rude Folks (Includes Racism)

Dull Cooking Utensils

Uncomfortably Tight Underwear

Good habits:

Proper Hygiene

Shelter Clean-up

Open Communication with Work, Family, & Friends

Learning New (Fun) Things

Tries to Empathize with someone if she doesn’t understand their feeling about an issue.

Bad Habits:

Biting her Cheek

Snacking While Cooking

Tendency to Listen to Others’ Conversations 

Swearing

Coffee Drinker

Personalities they gravitate toward:

Calming

Humorous

Fatherly/Motherly Figures

Confident

Direct

Personality types they avoid:

(This is a kind of mix. There’s lots of negative personality traits she would avoid, but a lot would be “obvious?”)

Overly Sophisicated/To the Extreme

Dogmatic/Faith Extremists

Impassive

Unambitious

Conceited

Fears:

Hurting Loved Ones, her children most of all.

Enclosed, dark, tight spaces.

The Nightmare Pack (Navigate past stories to understand what this pack is.)

Faceless Ones

Becoming Completely Forgotten

Tagged By: Originally @fortress-and-flame but I’ll work on another one of these for him of Nuellea and maaaaaaybe Y’itsuna. :D

Tagging: I think almost everyone I know has already done or is working on this? So, uh, whoever decides this is neat enough to fill out!

[brothersemberfell]

Irreplaceable III

Collaborated piece with @ocarina-of-what

"I'm so sorry darling, you must be very overwhelmed."

“Overwhelmed by how incredible your home is,” Felo’thore remarked with an uneasy shape in his brow. “So… This is it? I am...ready when you are.”

Adrianal sighed and nodded to his husband as they stood before the great Novastorm Manor at the bottom of the Dawnmeadow Canyon. Stepping forward he spoke quietly with the guard and, with a quick tap of the guard's staff to the ground- the black gates swung open for them to enter. The gardens past the wall were desolate and overgrown and gray. A single, ancient tree stood close to the wall and the dark oak doors swung slowly open under Adrianal's hand. The foyer was grand but cold. There were picture frames with dull paintings in them and portraits of family. Though the colors of the family had seemed vibrant and sophisticated in other locations- here they looked lifeless. It was hard to imagine any child grew up in this house- let alone ones who turned out like Adrianal or Velianor. But as they stepped inside there was one figure that brought a bubble of vibrancy and warmth to him. The man was tall and absolutely, weak-at-the-knees, drop-dead handsome. He was tall and broad shouldered with a long mantle of sunkissed hair and skin and wide golden eyes. His features were neat and sharp and angular. The smile that curved his mouth was mischievous and, suddenly, it made sense why the man was so deeply attractive- for he had much the same broad shouldered and handsome features of Adrianal and the exact same smile. A cousin? Some sort of brother he never spoke about? Maybe-

"Uncle Aleric," Adrianal sighed, all of his tension seemed to melt from him and he almost ran forward as the paladins tightly embraced, "Thank the Suns you are here."

The man's voice was a quavering baritone that likely had many people of both men and women dropping their clothes to the floor. "I came as soon as I was notified. Did you think I'd let you do this all alone? Now stop being rude- this must be your husband...?"

Adrianal could have cried with relief and he turned wide and happy eyes to Felo'thore as he held out a hand to bring his husband forward, "Yes- Felo'thore this is my uncle. Lord Aleric Novastorm, Knight-Lieutenant of the Argent Crusaders."

Felo’thore kept his long hands clasped at a wrist in front of his stomach, listening politely with attention as the two other men embraced and exchanged words. It was only when he was addressed, and the broad-shouldered and especially intriguing man made gesture for his hand in such a formal and yet personal manner. The astromancer dipped his head politely in return, a gentle and spritely smile curving his sharp lip and redacting a thought far too impolite for such company. Aleric's eyes narrowed as he considered Felo'thore thoughtfully, eyeing him up and down and giving a hum of approval, " Lovely ~" for some reason it was absolutely clear he was not referring to their meeting, but rather the very handsome mage in front of him. "I must apologize for missing your wedding. I still had much to do in Northrend at the time. It is a pleasure to meet you darling Felo'thore..." With a snap of his heels and a bend at the waist Aleric kissed Felo's hand.

“A pleasure as well, Lord Novastorm, to finally be introduced to you,” chirped the mage kindly. “I am truly grateful for Adrianal bringing me here and to have the opportunity to come know the beauty of this place, and the devotion your family has to its wonders.”  Felo’thore kept his gently hooded over eyes as polite as they could be. It was almost frightening already to know these men were related, for it was difficult to squelch a saucy thought from his mind. Aleric’s smile alone inspired the faintest goose skin under the scarf circling the astromancer’s neck.

Adrianal looked between Aleric and Felo'thore with a bit of a curious look.  When Aleric turned dramatically to head down a hall the paladin just raised his eyebrows at his husband with a deeply amused expression before the two of them followed along. "Do you need the vapors?" he teased gently before leading them down a grand hallway to follow his uncle.

Felo’thore offered only a playful squint at Adrianal’s teasing before his attention wandered back to the man’s vivacious uncle ahead of them.

Aleric jabbered on, hips swinging and gesturing to doors and paintings and walls that held the same runes as the rest of the canyon did. "Now we will all have to be on our best behaviors because my dear older sister is never really thrilled to see me. Less so that I came back still unmarried with plans to occupy every respectable bed I can wind up in across the Broken Shores- oh!" he turned, momentarily stopping to look at his nephew with wide eyes, "I must tell you about this lovely lady I had a very passionate evening with just yesterday. Dear Suns I thought she would tie me to the bed when I told her I had to go." With a deeply mischievous look in his eyes he raised his hands in a groping motion, "She had these breasts -!"

"Dear Suns Uncle can you not!" Adrianal yelped, "I don't think my husband wants to know of your conquests."

Aleric huffed, deflated with a purse of his lips, "Oh please- I would very much like to know his conquests if he is willing to share," with a sultry look he waggled his brows to Felo'thore and just turned to saunter once more down the hall, "Besides! You can't fool me- I know you came days early. I bet you had plenty of fun at our romantic and scenic World's Edge."

“Oh. Do go on about the breasts. Did she at the very least wear something to accentuate the underbust cleverly?” The astromancer let a weak wheeze of a laugh pass his lips, tilting his ears back with color working onto his face. “Oh, heavens. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to know the gritty details of your nephew on the job. I daresay I respect his wishes to let such remain...an intriguing mystery.” Adrianal blushed, baffled. But it was clear what Aleric was doing. The kind elder man easing the tension by throwing his nephew off his footing into a more ridiculous escapade. It was easier to be flustered about such talk rather than focus on the conversations to come.

Aleric threw his head back in a loud bark of a laugh, "Oh I like him Adrianal. She wore a dress that was cut in all the right places I assure you." With a smile he stopped at a large, grand door at the end of a hall full of portraits of past Matriarchs. He smiled almost sadly to the two men- gentle with sympathy. Turning the knob of the door he pulled it open, stepping aside to allow them in.

Felo’thore exchanged the last of a warmhearted smile with Aleric, having thoroughly appreciated the man’s company before he followed Adrianal through the large doorway. The slipping smile on the elder paladin’s face was slightly unsettling, but the mage held his chin squarely, meeting beside Adrianal in the matriarch’s chamber at a standing parade rest. The office was more of an observatory than an office or study. It was huge with a telescope behind the desk looking up and out a large scale window. Bookshelves lined either side and the large desk took up the central area. Couches and chairs were spread around and books fluttered back and forth on their own. The planetary system hung from the domed ceiling and reflections and illusions of stars hung up above. It was, truly, a beautiful room. Adrianal stepped inside, held his breath a moment, then let it out uneasily to the figure of the turned back, "Lady Mother," he announced softly, "I'm home- I've brought my husband."

The woman who turned would be, without a doubt, Velianor in a short number of years. She was as striking as her elder brother but to his classically handsome features she held something ethereal about her and otherworldly. Her eyes were a molten gold cut from slivers of the sun and her hair was pulled tightly back and hung in a straight, endless mantle of sunshine colored hair. She could be beautiful- if it looked like she had ever smiled in her life. Her face was absolutely unreadable and soft as porcelain and she stood quite tall. Her armor was shined in the colors of the family and had swirls of beautiful, dark teal runes and watery accents and glittered faintly with the stars. A long soft blue cape hung from her and a long polearm was mounted beside her desk. She was sleek and well kept- not a single hair out of order on her head. Only her mouth was painted a dark teal and rows of the crystalline, aquamarine jewels hung from her ears and around her neck. Her ears and eyebrows, like Adrianal's, did not move or twitch in any way. She stood in silence for a long time, observing them both like a hawk. It was Aleric who broke the silence with a breathy quip as he all but skipped forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, " Hello my darling little sister~" He leaned in, whispering something to her that made her too-wide eyes hood for a moment in consideration.

Olleria carried herself with the breath-halting, graceful glide of a very dangerous lion as she came forward. Not a single clink of her armor could be heard as she leaned up just a bit to place a kiss to her sons jaw, "Welcome home darling," she murmured softly. She turned then, eyes widening at Felo'thore, narrowing, considering him and sizing him up. It would take a moment before Felo'thore would notice the singed feeling of the air. Of invisible leylines being snuffed out around him as she tasted and read the sorts of magic he had and made the air still around them. She didn't care about how tall he was or how he looked- she was seeing how quickly she could sap him of magic and block it. After a moment she stepped closer, the top of her head going just past his chin. A plate gloved finger tugged at his lapel and very carefully righted it, "Our colors suits you," was all she seemed able to say, "Doctor Felo'thore...I suppose your name is Novastorm now hmn? Or did you keep your surname?" A test. Adrianal and Aleric watched Felo'thore from behind Olleria nervously, waiting for his reaction.

Felo’thore knew nothing other than respect for a mother, and even if the Lady Matriarch of the Novastorms was a lion as Adrianal had so warned, the astromancer looked only upon her as gently as he would thinking of his own. He found curiosity and wonder within the star-written aesthetic of her chamber and attire, finding hope in those few moments that he may one day sit and converse with her of similar interests. They were dreams of optimism, likely spurred by his subconscious longing for his own mother. But the moment Felo’thore would sense his connection to the ley recede from his body did a harsh reality begin to set in. Did she not trust him?

The mage’s mindset immediately changed, the conversation of his thought drawing to deafening silence. Felo’thore assumed a pointed poise, the kind of stiff and sharp-witted frame of operation he held when dealing his business among potentially dangerous magic practitioners. How odd it was to so suddenly revert to such in the presence of a mother. But the mage’s owlish astral eyes settled on her critical gaze and followed her hand slowly to the righting of his long lapel, his thick brows twitching upward only slightly at the brazen entrance of his personal space.

“Lady Matriarch,” he commented softly as a way of thanks at her compliment, “My publications reside under my former as well as for family business reasons, and in choosing to honor my commitment to a Novastorm; I have kept both.”

Olleria's hand left his lapel and again her icy features went unchanging as she considered. There seemed to be an air of people holding their breath around them until she turned, considered her son and her brother. "Oh please," she sighed at last, "I'm not going to harm the boy." "One wouldn't know- seeing you sapped the room of any magic..." Aleric murmured, eyes turning up to even the floating books and illusions had stopped. Olleria gave the barest purse of the lips as Aleric spoke again, "Come now. If he'd had intention of blowing this place up he had done it ages ago," the man soothed. At once, leylines returned and the room had been given back it's very air. Quietly she glided to her chair behind the large desk. Tucking her cape and carefully arranging her hair as she sat down. "Come and sit then," she ordered, somehow her voice carrying across the room. "Aleric- be useful and get us some tea would you?"

Aleric cast the boys a look and turned, leaving the room and gently shutting the door to wrangle the  near invisible tea maids.

Adrianal didn't hesitate, moving forward, pulling out Felo'thore's chair and looking at the mage a bit pale under his freckles. The mage expelled a soft breath of relief, feeling the choke in the air loosen and the current of ley resuming once again. He offered a gentle and appreciative grin to the paladin as he settled, crossing his long legs and folding his hands across his lap. He remained utterly silent for the moments following, looking across the large desk for starry things, catching his eyes and interest before slipping to Adrianal searchingly.

Adrianal didn't look at Felo'thore, his eyes were on his mother. They held an oddly indifferent stare towards each other. It wasn't the look of a mother and son on each other. At least not a normal one. But he stayed silent. He knew what was coming. Olleria folded her hands over one knee as a graceful leg was slowly crossed. "So. It seems you are married now." Adrian's weak bleat came out after her silence, "I sent the invitations-" "I. Burnt the invitation," Olleria's voice was soft as glass, never raising or lowering in pitch. But it held the same dangerous scold of any parent, "Because you sent me an invitation to a wedding before you decided to introduce him properly first. To give him the basic rights of our family to give me the right as your Matriarch and Mother to approve or deny such a union."

Adrianal swallowed, slowly leaning back in his chair and gripping the arms of it. Felo’thore’s long ears twitched backward with the exchange in front of him, his knuckles paling between the link of his fingers over his lap. They were both guilty of her accusation, that much was for sure. Had she been given the opportunity to judge, she certainly wouldn’t have approved of them then either.

Olleria, in the meantime, continued as she turned her wide eyed stare to Felo'thore. She had the look of a porcelain doll. Fine and soft and made of glass, "And you married a mage. I have read your...'works' Doctor. Impressive, your knowledge of the universe and the stars. But Dalaran," it was the first sneer, the first sound of disgust. "And a man." Adrian's hands gripped the chair tightly, "I love him-" "You can never have children as a proper union naturally should. Such a union is a disgrace- is that why you deliberately went behind my back like a petulant child? Because you knew I would say no? I let Aleric continue his disgusting daliances as he likes because he has still given the world many children. Do you plan on doing the same?" She looked between the men, not waiting for an answer, the thought of her son turning out like her irritating brother too horrible to contemplate, "Disgracing me and spitting on our families honor because you were given...what? Love? Love is tradeable."

“If love is tradeable, then it has been mistaken for something else.” Felo’thore’s eyes narrowed, mulling the woman’s harshness and allowing his thick golden brows to drop over his eyes crossly.

Olleria's gaze hardened as she considered the mage who had piped up so brazenly, "There is no such thing as a love that cannot be bought." "I love him," Adrianal's voice was firmer, looking more fiercely at his mother, "Without question. You can't take that from me mother." The dangerous silence hung for a second and just as she opened her mouth Aleric all but burst in and made both Adrianal and Felo’thore jump from their seats. Olleria looked absolutely unsurprised as Aleric sauntered in with a tray of cups and a tea kettle, "So!" he smiled to them all and began to set down the tea. A little maid came skittering in carrying a tray of sandwiches and cookies. "Who wants tea hmn? Adrianal tell us about the wedding. Velianor told me all about it," Aleric's eyes rested on Olleria for a cold second before turning warmly onto the two men. It was such an odd, stark contrast. How had they been raised. What made Aleric so cheery and vivacious and his sister so cold and calculating and suspicious. But Aleric's handsome face just bloomed into a smile that made the maid look like she was about to scuttle out to get the vapors, "Where did you have it?"

Adrianal took the tea mostly out of mechanical surprise as he cleared his throat, Aleric blowing in air in a choked room, "On a hill overlooking the sea. It was where his parents were married." Olleria seemed to be ignoring the conversation completely as she focused on her tea and the maid settled a napkin in her lap and prepared her a plate of the small lunch and settled papers on her desk next to her. While Adrianal described the setting Aleric's head bobbed and he looked fondly to Felo'thore, "You must have looked quite lovely. I can just picture it- our colors look lovely in any kind of sunshine hmn?"

Felo’thore held the cup and saucer in his lap, fixing his eyes on the tiny ripples across the surface. The mage looked up at Aleric pinching his lips into a deflated sort of smile. He was torn between the wish to spill his excitement over every aspect of the day and refraining from speaking of it at all.  “They do. It was a lovely day. Officiated so well by Lady Ashveil.”

Olleria's head came up at the talk of Lady Ashveil and her face instantly became colder. Her eyes rested on her son, "Of course you would finagle the Ashveil's into such proceedings. I bet it was Velianor's doing hmn?" Adrianal frowned, mouth opening, but they were all interrupted once more by Aleric. The man seemed determined to get a more decent conversation going. He eyed his little sister, perhaps holding out the hope she would become interested in hearing how lovely the day was that they had missed. He turned again to Felo'thore with a smile, "You must have more to tell hmn? I want to hear details on your outfit moreso. I hope they managed to put something fabulous on you. And your families heraldry as well- did we receive it properly to put in our hall?" Olleria scowled at this, starting to bristle and turning to snap at her brother. But Aleric turned at the same time and put a cookie in her face with a smile, "Your favorite hmn?" with a wiggle of it Olleria glared and snatched it, taking a bite of the sweet.

“Ah, it was lovely. I think one of my favorite regalias to wear to date,” he recalled, keeping his gaze on Aleric. “Velianor advised me on the fabrics and colors, and I had it custom tailored. Shades of the sun and water, a dark teal coat and the finest gold embroidery.”

Adrianal straightened, "We have it. Velianor took it- but I think she was holding onto it and...waiting." Aleric clapped his hands together, "Then I will ask her for it so we can put it up!" Olleria's voice came out in a hiss, "They were not married properly...not by our rites. Their heraldry does not get put up." Aleric turned a bored eye to his sister, "Then they can have another ceremony- a smaller one. You don't mind do you Felo'thore? The High Priestess would be thrilled. We've had a great deal many weddings lately."

Adrianal and Olleria were silent, staring at each other from across the large desk. They seemed to be having some sort of staring contest. In the meantime Aleric was smiling warmly to Felo'thore and waiting.

“If it means we are to honor the rights of your family properly, then I would be more than happy to renew our vows here under the High Priestess.” Felo’thore blinked slowly with a single eyebrow twitching. It stung him a little bit to have it insinuated that their ceremony wasn’t considered sufficient. But what was the man to say?

Olleria leaned back with a cold stare, "The issue of you both being men still rests on the table." Aleric gave a loud sigh, "I fuck my way through men all the time- you have no issue with that." "You've not asked to marry one of them." Aleric's eyes darkened as he took a slow sip of his tea. Olleria could not see his face, but Adrianal's eyes widened. Suddenly it was very clear why Aleric was boxing on their side so hard. Why he was here at all. That his uncle may have wanted the freedom to marry as he liked, be it a woman or a man as well, had never come up before. His heart ached for his uncle suddenly- how long had he lived and been denied the right to marry whomever he happened to love? Olleria turned her golden gaze onto Felo'thore, "I am sure you are a wonderful man Felo'thore. I do not doubt your strengths. But the fact that our population was devastated by many wars and you have settled together in a monogamous relationship with no way to reproduce is...unnatural.”

Aleric rolled his eyes, saying just loud enough for them to hear as he took a sip of his tea, "I'm sure if Adrianal tries hard enough he could knock the man up. How would you feel about that?" As Aleric took a polite sip of his tea Olleria and Adrianal choked on theirs. Felo’thore’s narrow face flashed a bright rose, his long ears slowly splaying as he finally lifted the tea from his lap and took a hearty swallow of it. Clapping her cup down Olleria turned and glared harshly at her brother, "MUST YOU BE HERE?!" finally her crystalline voice had cracked into an outraged shout.

The mage cleared his throat, setting the cup back on the saucer in his lap. His silver eyes shifted to Olleria and very eloquently spoke his words after her outburst, sitting upright in his seat. “From what I understand, a marriage is not exclusively a license to procreate. Many do so without it. And some of us believe there are greater priorities on the horizon- such as the Legion currently tearing at the heart of Azeroth. Yes, for us regionally, replenishing the population is a goal. But from a global perspective, Lady Matriarch, companionship is a vital preface. Love is what brings a soldier’s return from the war. Love is what gives all children a home- Not just the ones we produce ourselves.”

Olleria turned her gaze again to Felo'thore while Adrianal still struggled to catch his breath after Aleric's commentary on knocking up Felo'thore. Her voice had calmed once more, "You are naive and young," she snapped, "With a doe eyed vision of the world. You are right- the world once more faces crisis and with it we need stability. We do not have the luxury of companionship and a tradeable thing as 'love' when our world requires other things." Adrianal gripped the cup he held tightly, "We did not come to talk ideals Lady Mother," he hissed. Olleria turned her glare to Adrianal once more, "Did we not? Funny- it seems you have lacked to talk to me about anything at all. As well as your worthless sister. How dare you not tell me you were even dating. Let alone a man. Let alone marriage!" Adrianal flinched, in truth he had no words for this, he weakly looked away and towards Felo'thore. Seeing the mage in his chair- what he was willing to put up with for the paladin. Taking a breath he looked to Olleria once more, "Because I'm an adult and have lived on my own for years. Frankly it was none of your business. I love him, unquestionably, no matter his ability to give me children. We could never have children at all for all I care!"

Olleria's eyes narrowed into vicious slits, "You love him." Adrianal squared his jaw as he stared back at her, "I love him." The matriarch sat back, eyes hooding and looking down at the fine teacups in front of her, "Then prove it." Heat rose to Adrianal's cheeks in irritation, "I married him. Isn't that proof enough." "Adrian..." Aleric warned, suddenly looking alarmed and bit concerned by the contemplative look on his sister's face. "Not to me," Olleria snapped, cutting them off, "Prove to me the depth of your 'devotion' to this marriage and I will consider it." "What do I have to do?" Silence hung in the air. Olleria raised her chin and a dangerous, serene smile parted her mouth, "A duel."

Felo’thore’s eyes hung open with an alarmed look, the proposal in front of them overshadowing the offense of his words disregarded. “That isn’t fair...That isn’t fair nor reasonable at all.” The mage’s face swung back to Adrianal, casting him an upsetting quizzical shake of his head. He was truly unnerved, terrified that Adrianal was any ounce considering such an absurd solution. Aleric looked absolutely outraged. He turned to his sister and all but jumped to his feet. A paternal, protective hiss came from him. "You would not dare." But Ollerias eyes stayed on Adrianal. "I think that is his decision." There was silence for a long time. Before Adrianal whispered in a voice hardly audible. "Ill do it." Aleric hissed again, "Adrian." "If this is what you want mother. I will do it. For Felothore....I will do it."

Felo'thore  jolted up from his chair, clattering the teacup and saucer onto the nearby end table. "Adrianal. What are you doing? I love you too but don't do this. You don't have to do this for me," he rasped, wringing his hands pale at his sides.

Adrianal shook off Felothores hand and stood facing his mother. "If this is what it takes for you. If this is what you need to see that I will do anything for the one that I love. Then I will do it. That we will always do everything for one another. No matter the cost." Olleria finally looked pleased. Looking to Felo and seeing his distress with a contemplative observance. "Excellent." Aleric’s jaw was working and furious he sat slowly back down. He looked shell shocked and horrified. Already he could predict what was to come.

Felo’thore wished he could feel flattered that Adrianal so devotedly championed what they had become together. But in the place of hope, there was great fear and confusion. His silver eyes slipped to Aleric, casting the man a critical look as he refused to sit, standing awkwardly frozen like a deer caught in the open meadow.  “If it is your wish to do so...I am bound by duty to support it,” the words slipped from Felo’thore’s sharply curved mouth, his voice quivering. He didn’t want to say it. He completely and utterly disagreed. But he forced the thought into voice, for beneath the rising heat of his blood, Felo’thore trusted Adrianal, no matter the odds.

Olleria sat back in her chair for a second, fingers tapping before a smile just casually slid up her mouth. "Then rest well in the manor for tonight gentlemen. Tomorrow morning...Aleric and the High Priestess can be our witnesses hmn? No need to be in front of the whole Dawnmeadow." Adrianal's hands shook but slowly he held a hand out to Felo'thore, inviting him to stand out and to escort him out of the study. Aleric stood with his jaw working, waiting to be alone with his sister to speak to her privately. The mage did not hesitate. He took Adrianal’s hand and together they swept out of the room and let the door close shut tight behind them.

[rishnea]

Expect to see me reblog this at least a few times because I am stupidly proud of this!

The lovely Velianor Novastorm for @ocarina-of-what