#Warlord Dar'toon
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Grit
She wasn’t sure how a place so barren could also be so humid. However, there were so many things she just had to accept about the state of nature in this post-Cataclysm Azeroth. Grit in her mouth wasn’t one of them though. Rudi uncorked her wineskin, bringing it to her generous mouth and drawing in just enough water to coat her tongue. She swigged it around a few times before leaning off to the side of her pink and purple feathered Hawkstrider. She spit the mouthful to the worn, broken paving stones that made up the single, old road through the Blasted Lands.
Rudi had been traveling alone down through it for some time now, retracing her steps. Many things were certainly different now. New friends. New squad mates. New banner. All kinds of new rules.
The sky was different too. She had seen the distant storm clouds even during her approach through the swamp. She could only figure they were the cause of the heavy, damp air. She hadn’t felt a drop or seen a single body of water. Only lightening strikes, slicing down into the distance.
Rudi made effort to draw in a breath, letting it out in a puff and shifting her bangs out of her eyes before nudging the strider to resume it’s march along the seemingly forgotten road. Most evidence of life in the area was rather aged at this point. Odd scarecrow-like structures that she could only assume were warnings or signs of territory. There were pieces-parts of destroyed wagons and war machines - all aged and worn by the grit in the wind.
It seemed really like the two factions of Azeroth only had postings here to keep up appearances. All the men at Dreadmaul Hold had been - well relaxed was an understatement. It had been quite a bizarre thing to see from orcs: sprawled out in barracks, at tables with drinks and cards. The wildlife was thriving in the absence of armies and conflict - both natural and unnatural fauna. Rudi had given the boars, hyenas and assorted Fel creatures a wide berth. At another time she may have gone ahead and taken a sword to the tainted creatures. As it was, she’d finally started feeling fatigue from her journey. The heat wasn’t helping. She was Forsaken but she wasn’t impervious. She was still susceptible to some things. Like her forcibly reanimated heart seeming to stop again when that sickly green glow oozed into view in the natural pass in the crater wall.
Her mount had continued to toddle down the path so it wasn’t long before Rudi was past the lip and looking down into the red, clay pit. There were a smattering of tents, crates and rows of anti-machine barriers before the stone doorway. She saw groups on both sides breaking down some of the few remaining tents and loading crates into wagons. Whatever business both sides had with the newest version of this gateway, it was seemingly over with.
Rudi swung her leg back over the haunch of her bird and dropped to the dry, cracked ground. Walking deeper into the site on foot, she lead the hawkstrider by it’s reins as she reminisced. Once upon a time you could barely move through this hole. There had been tens of hundreds of tents surrounding the crater. Officer’s tents had been crammed inside it. Supply caches, ballista, elven glaive throwers - you name it and she had seen it stationed near or aimed at the towering stone frame.
The days had been tense but the nights were always lively. The desert floor mirrored the sky, with the fires of all the camps dotting the area. The action to enter the portal had drawn countless squads and companies from all corners of Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms. So, family and long-time friends alike were getting the chance to catch up and enjoy one another’s company in the shadow of the Dark Portal. Rudiania wished she had taken more advantage of those few nights leading up to the charge. The last time she’d spoken to James was two days before the attack.
She... couldn’t remember what they talked about. Maybe it was the trip there, assignments, if they knew their launch order yet... Things that didn’t matter. She could still see his dirt-smudged face: very much their father’s son with his beak-like nose and widows peak hairline. Neither of them had run into Eric yet, she remembered that much. Rudi came back to herself and paused when her sabaton scraped along the wide, stone ramp of the platform.
Her eyes trailed up its length to the eerie, pulsing portal of fel magic. Before she could stop herself she was taking a step, and then another - the tip, tip, tip of her strider’s claws trailing behind her on the stone. Then she was there. The veil of magic only inches from her nose just like before. Without thought, her free hand was up and reaching out. The magic seemed to gather and swirl as she drew closer. Green tendrils reached out and worked between her splayed, gloved fingers as if beckoning.
“Forsaken.” Rudiania instantly dropped her hand and whirled around. A large, blue skinned orc glowered up at her from the base of the ramp. Even with her short time in the Horde she could tell he was someone of some rank. He managed to be intimidating even when she had the high ground. “Unless you have a dispatch writ, get down here and help us load up.”
“Yes, sir.”
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Shadows of Nobility
(Original Picture made by Ghorthas)
Armor Type: Cloth
Level Required: 1-98
Head: Hidden
Shoulder: Hidden
Back: Dar'toon's Cloak
Chest: Nobleman's Coat
Shirt: N/A
Tabard: N/A
Wrist: N/A
Hands: Ley-Touched Gloves
Waist: Belt of the Hero
Legs: Nobleman's Pantaloons
Feet: Noble's Fancy Boots
Requirements: Darkmoon Faire, Vendor, Questing.
Editor’s Comment: “This is not only a great Gilnean set but it’s also a wonderful mog for those who love the darker things in the Warcraft universe. With an already solid set from the Darkmoon Faire, the cloth gloves from Warlords, a Classic belt, and a solid black cloak, this set really stands out.
While the gloves have a hefty level requirement, everything else in this transmog set is easily interchangeable.
The only thing I couldn’t get myself to do was add a weapon. While there’s many weapons that can fit with this set, I couldn’t bring myself to add one to the final product. Worgen clothies beware, a set is sitting there waiting for you.”
#warcraft#world of warcraft#gilneas#gaming#transmog#graphic design#ghor's boutique#outfit#worgen#human#alliance#horde#bfa#legion#warlords
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