#Vynlorin Shandaumath

[shandaumath]

Vynlorin Shandaumath by Kirkas Karaff Patreon rewards (https://twitter.com/kirkas_karaff).

[agilneanrose]

Delivered by courier along with a note. Lord Vynlorin Shandaumath,

Happy Nobleguarden! I pray the year has not been too chaotic for you.  Evelynn has once more included sticks of honey along with the decorated eggs. Spring has arrived and I am excited about it. We start off the holiday with Sir Folcard dressed as an egg-stealing goblin, it gets our keep's children riled up quite nicely.

Please tell me all is well on your side of Azeroth.

@shandaumath

[aredhelevaltieri]

My Dearest Vynlorin, 

I write to you this day with a handsome request. I beg you to find any remnant of love you have for me and  I ask that you take that love born in despair, to answer my call now.

In truth, I fear for my life. It is only a matter of days before I am wiped from this earth. You are the only one that could keep my neck from feeling the cold steel of justice served against me due to wrongful affairs of the heart.

I need to see you.

Void Bless,

Aredhele

[tamalas-art]

Back to some art of my boy Vynlorin and his babe Aredhele.

Characters are @shandaumath and @aredhelvaltieri respectively.

[wokeastroke]

Weak

Tirian Felo’dorah sat at his desk, a quill scritching away at paper beneath. He hated quills, and found the feathers to be distracting in the midst of writing. He hated writing as well but some things needed to be said, and getting ahold of this letter’s recipient was difficult. He mused as he finished the swirling letters of her name, imagining breaking down her front door with a hundred men, burning the place to the ground if only for a conversation. Mad as she was, she would likely enjoy the entire thing.

My Lady Valtieri,

He squinted. The lines of Thalassian were meant to be flowing, had to be perfect. One misplaced curve, or miniscule drop of ink could change the entire format of a work. He silently cursed his ancestors for not inventing a simpler alphabet.

I write you today from a place of power unlike any I have felt before. the armies of Stormwind can me moved, coerced, by my hand. It’s ministers answer to me, and it’s gold is dictated by word. And it is from the cliff I speak up to you. My loyalty remains the strongest, my willingness to raise the house second only to yours. And so it does not pain me to tell you that we live in a time of weak men. You will only receive the truth from me, and I fear that we have allowed our house to sink too deeply into the political realm. What do we care of the murder of a politician? What do we have to do with a loud commoner who cannot keep his mouth shut? What do we gain from having any position of power that is not fitting for killers?

The lord paused, stretching out his hand. He knew his thoughts were not shared by the entire house. The weaker links cared about all of these things, but the higher circle remained strong. Three voices who ruled the house, who guided it. But the pack had begun to veer, to weaken itself with the trivialities of the city. His mind drifted to Cerusani, her dogged determination to back a man who would kill her- kill anyone- if they had a bit of land and attended the wrong meetings. How had she forgotten his tearing apart of the group that had sought the very same thing he had? And the ‘attacks’ against him? Tirian shook his head, leaned back in his chair. Likely they were paid men, paid to make him appear in the right. Men that could shout and ‘attack’, then serve a small sentence before escaping. For a moment he thought of Annitia, a lost sheep. Never really a beast, in his eyes, but a part of the house. Married to a man who loves a man, who loves only the feeling of titles. Herke and Clogerny had been interesting fellows, the former truly fun to be about, the latter a spectacle. However, their scheming was always that. Scheming. A shame that Annitia was caught up in it, but still better than her being close to Tirian. Safer for her. Besides, if he ever felt the need, maybe he’d pay her a small visit. He gave an amused chuckle at that, his will to ruin things came without beckoning. Another way he had been turned by the Thing in his head. He merely wanted to take and destroy things. Create his own heaven. If only his heaven were a little more friendly to others.

Somehow a drink made it into his hand. Cerusani was lovely, but her choices when it came to men were always wrong. He paused, the thoughts that ran through his head were oily, then caught flame. He quenched them with a sip of his drink, some fruity mixture Primrose had invented. It hurt to tell the truth, and ever so more to tell himself the truth. Was it fair to speak to anyone knowing you offer only the worst?

He set quill to paper. Fucking quills.

So I offer you only this as a warning, a call to arms, a golden trumpet of war. The armistice means nothing. Peace is not attained, and I do not wish it. Horde settlements have gone untouched since the finding of the Shadowlands, and it is time we take what we can. If not to refill our coffers, to send a message. I advise you and Vynlorin to raise your armies and keep them raised. When we ride, the gods themselves will quiver. With excitement, and then with fear. Bones and teeth, Lord Tirian Felo’dorah.

The High Marshal put the quill down, happy to be rid of the fluttering thing. Carefully he blew on the paper, drying the black ink slowly, though his mind whirled. Vynlorin would have his back, he must. But he knew himself. Tirian needed tempering, in everything but drink and whores. Vynlorin was smart, cunning, almost shrewd. Tirian laughed as he thought of ruling the world, a thousand women at his feet, and Vynlorin as his only council, his reward being a dungeon miles deep. Tirian’s chuckles nearly smudged the ink on his letter. But, slowly it was folded in three, a dollop of black ink slobbed onto the center. Then he looked to his ring, the face of a bull. 

After a moments indecision, he infused it with a bit of It. Of whatever lurked behind his eyes. Slowly, the jewels set in the eyes of the bull glowed hot. Only then did he pressed it into the wax, creating his seal.

Tirian frowned as he peered at the seal, however. Though the wax had hardened, the eyes continued to smoke and smolder. He didn’t know if he liked that. But he shrugged. Allow the Beast his one touch upon the world.

The letter was gone in moments, arriving in hours, delivered by the prettiest messenger of Ghostlynn Grove.  ( @aredhelvaltieri @shandaumath @cerusaniduskbinder @annitiafairchild )

(mentioned in this post)

[bloodofthedepths]

An Endless Nothing

“This will be all over soon...”

A weightlessness began to surround Ithildir and the fragile state that he was in as the encroaching dark slipped through his fingers. Time felt as if it had gone on and on without the elf that had been cast to the abyss that awaited him. A vacuum that harnessed each mistake and transgression taken against another was all that waited for Ithildir. 

“Where...am I? Wha- what is this?” Ithildir’s heart had been racing to keep up with every thought that culminated in an attempt to figure out exactly where he had been. However, the explanation had been lost within the endless dark before him. 

“Hello?” Ithildir called out once and briefly waited for a reply. His ears twitched in anticipation for a reply that never came before his chest expanded in preparation for the air that was bout to be expended. “Hello?!” The words shot out in front of the broken elf  and echoed in the expanding nothingness until silence filled the empty space once more. Frantically, Ithildir turned to see what was behind him before he had realized that no matter where he looked he was surrounded by an infinite nothing. The empty space gnawed at his attention until he felt his gaze being drawn to the epicenter of the darkness that engulfed him.

“My Lord? Ithildir?”

“Rosemarri!? Where are you?!” Ithildir hysterically turned  this way and that to attempt to find Lady Sunshield, but to no avail. 

“Why did you abandon us, My Lord?” The disappointed tone echoed around the suspended elf as if it had been the abyss itself, shaking Ithildir to the core and leaving his heart aching.

“No! I would never! You must believe me!” Ithildir had finally decided to close his eyes in a desperate attempt to escape the punishing view around him. Focusing on Rosemarri’s voice, he continued to plead to her for understanding and forgiveness. “My love, please.”

A deafening silence filled the voice once more and robbed Ithildir of a response and slowly the endless void began to split. A brilliant light far to bright to gaze upon had begun to shine through the dark and heralded an unfamiliar voice. 

“He is waking up. Let Master Shandaumath know. Quickly.”

Slowly, Ithildir eye’s pried themselves open and subjected himself to the lingering agony he had endured. Dimly illuminated hues continued to stare at the ceiling as the same unfamiliar voice called out once more. “Lord Fala’andu. . .Can you hear me?”

Ithildir glanced down to his chest and noted the numerous carvings in his flesh. It was in that instant that he had been reminded of the past week that he had spent in Vynlorin’s clutches. All of it had been true. No matter how badly he had wished for his suffering to be nothing more than a dream, he knew that he would not be spared. A hollowness began to dig at the broken elf until a tear dripped down the side of his cheek and fell into the pillow beneath his head. Silent sobs caused his chest to abruptly rise and fall until an agonizing yell of frustration and mourning filled the guest room and echoed down the hall.

“Please, my lord. You must rest. Save your energy.” The subtle cooing that came from the unknown silhouette only caused Ithildir to dwell further on what had happened to him, though his yelling had died down to an aggrieved groan. “I would ask that you not move, Lord Fala’andu. You need to rest and allow your wounds to heal properly. When Master Shandaumath is ready, he will speak with you. Until then, you are to remain in here and in my care.” A brief breath is taken as the Doctor rose from his seat and began to move towards the door. “I’ll fetch a meal for you.” A brief pause is taken as the door opens and the Doctor stands within the room’s threshold. “Again. Do not try to move. I will return momentarily.”

All the while, Ithildir thought of the punishment that he would endure if he attempted to get up and flee from the room. As the thought crossed his mind, the subtle sound of the door locking echoed within the room. Each movement that was made had been a testament to the torment he suffered. Foregoing his plan to sit up, Ithildir simply stared at the ceiling and resisted the temptation to close his eyes once more. “I will return to you, my love. Do not abandon me. I beg you to allow me to give you what is left of me...” Still, the tears fell from the corner of Ithildir’s eyes down to the pillow beneath him until they were no more. Unfortunately, the drugs that he had been given had not completely run their course. It had only been a matter of minutes before Ithildir’s eyes closed and the empty darkness engulfed him once more. Within the guest room only mumbled pleas could be heard as the broken elf attempted to reason with his own psyche. Trapped in a seemingly endless loop of guilt and resentment. 

( Mentions: @shandaumath and @agilneanrose​ )

[singingshadows]

Master Vynlorin Shandaumath,

I hope that this letter finds you in high spirits, or that it finds you at all.

I have replaced my scrying orb entirely, as the damage to the other was so profound that repair was unable to be attained. No matter, of course. However now, should you choose to bare witness to the various Threads that I have mentioned. Who would you like to spy upon, I wonder? What paths would you like to trifle with? Or is this merely a matter of study? No probability is certain as of yet. I’ll make certain to prove useful, whatever the case is or turns into.

My services as Eyes have been lent to you, and shall remain discreet. These same services will be lent to Lady Aredhele. Yet whatever inquiries you have upon the ever-unfurling paths shall not cross her ears lest they be from your lips.

Lastly, I do hope I can earn your forgiveness for the end of our last meeting. Selfish as I am, the paths are rendered useless if I offend you beyond repair. Tender as you are in the public eye, I can recognize ire when it is sparked, as delicious as ire can be.

Until we meet again, do stay safe.

-𝐿𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑆𝑦𝑙𝑣𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒 𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡

@shandaumath

[maeskia]

The letter

Vynlorin,

I hope this letter reaches you well, not that I hope you are well. No darling, I wish you would rot alone in your dungeons shackled and forgotten.

I am sorry for the lateness of this message.  The world kept me busy and I was not able to attend to the matters of you.  

When I was walking the city today I passed the area where “your” people as you call them stand.  The rage I have you came forth reminding me of our talk and your warning to me.  How you told me I am forbidden to speak with or even be around those you associate with.

Now I must take a moment and speak from my heart, to let the Lady in me sit aside while I tell you how I really feel.

Fuck off.  Take that iron shoved up your ass and simply fuck off.  Should any of “your” people wish to be around me, I will be happy to associate with them.  May they be free to make their own choices and not be shackled by the lack of a man you are.

-Lady Maeskia Duskwhisper. @shandaumath​

[shandaumath]

Vynlorin Shandaumath and his internal struggles against Void corruption. Artist: https://twitter.com/musetheart

[shandaumath]

Vynlorin Shandaumath by Azra ( https://twitter.com/Azraillu )

[shandaumath]

Vynlorin Shandaumath.

Art done by https://twitter.com/MissHartsArt

[shandaumath]

Vynlorin Shandaumath by Naariel ( https://twitter.com/NaarielArt )

[shandaumath]

Vynlorin and Vorathien Shandaumath.

Artist: https://twitter.com/actualsailboat

[shandaumath]

Vynlorin Shandaumath by clayscence ( https://www.deviantart.com/clayscence )

[shandaumath]

Vynlorin Shandaumath by Yorsy Hernandez.

( https://twitter.com/YorsyHernandez )

[shandaumath]

Vynlorin Shandaumath and Tirian Felo’dorah

Artist: Kirkas Karaff ( https://twitter.com/kirkas_karaff )