#arathor

[nelisims]

<new memory unlocked> can you feel my heart?

[graceintheshadows]

A letter to Etharion Longsight - 19 November

The letter arrives sealed and spelled against tampering though not against travel-wear. It’s a bit darkened at the edges and where various hands must have held the outer envelope and seems too heavy for it to just be a letter within. The pages within, however, are relatively clean except for the occasional smudge of ink and the mark of Roiya’s own fingers at one point, seemingly covered in ash. Enclosed is what appears to be some kind of beacon, wafer-thin but sturdy, etched with arcane runes.

Eth,

I hope this finds you and yours well. As I imagine you can tell from the envelope, I’ve once again utterly failed at remaining retired. I suppose you’re wholly unsurprised. This of course assumes that you’re the one reading this and not some spy or otherwise somewhere. That ranger assured me that he had a safe method of ensuring that this letter made it safely and discretely to you, though, and given his association with a former apprentice of mine, I’m willing to take him at his word.

Keydyn and I—and Aekatrine, Nikus, Lyyn, and Quin as well—deployed with forces out of Stormwind after Dalaran fell. I know, I know. I said I was done and I repeated as much to Keydyn, but he was right when he said they might need us. We were recalled by the Argent Crusade to Stormwind from our posting in the north and one thing led to another. I don’t know what conversations have been had with SI:7–and that lack of knowledge is why I’ve sent this outside of the normal channels—about anything, but we’re in Hallowfall now. It’s shades of Icecrown back in those old days. I feel both younger and ancient all at once, being here.

Have you heard much of what’s been happening out there in Khaz Algar? I’m curious of what’s been leaking out, though I suppose given your location you may hear even less than the common folk on the streets in one of the cities or even in a village. I’ve half thought of writing to anyone who may still be at Aerie Peak, but I doubt any would care to hear from me, if they’re even still there.

It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? It seems it.

I’ve been remiss in coming to see you these past years. My own failing. I hope you and yours are well. Perhaps when I see you next—and I believe that I will, it’s just a matter of when—I’ll tell you how my son and his cousin pretended they were going to visit you and instead snuck off to Quel’thalas. It’s a long story, all of it, but I think it will make you worry and laugh at the same time.

Most of us have left them—the children—in Stormwind with the Earl of Ware and his wife. They’re older now, more responsible—but also quite apt to find fresh trouble. I worry about them because I know the sort of people they’ve come from. They’re too clever, but so are Lord Sam and Lady Mina. I’m sure it will be fine. There are only so many places they can sneak off to to find trouble, right?

Besides, we have problems enough here.

Nerubians, Eth. They called us here because between us all, we have a century and more of fighting nerubians under our belts. I don’t know what all of this means, not yet. It’s related to something far larger, I can feel it in my bones, but the Temple’s silent.

The Temple is silent on a great deal these days. Ten thousand years is a long time, I suppose, and at some point you would think I’d begin to trust my own counsel. And yet, sometimes I still look there—but I don’t have to, do I? Perhaps I never did.

It’s a strange place, this Hallowfall. The kind of place that makes you ask questions you’d not asked before. And yet, it reminds me of other places that have taught me important lessons over this long life of mine. I do wonder what it will teach me this time.

Be safe. I hope to hear from you soon, and to see you before this is over. Be well, my friend, my brother.

- Roiya.

[ @etharion ]

[lordaeronslost]

Lucky ones – Part 6

[See @isryael for part 5, @tenebreashember for part 4, @wynilthyrii for part 3, @graceintheshadows for part 2, and @lordaeronslost for part 1]

Several days ago…

“Adama! Where’s your CO?”

Quin pivoted toward the sound of the voice, her brow furrowing at the sight of the soldier who approached her, dressed in a mix of Alliance blue and gold with splashes of brown. The harbor at Stormwind was sheer bedlam, with soldiers and sailors everywhere, some collected into cohesive units that had been called up, some still being sorted. “Who’s asking?”

“Paranoid, are we?” The soldier flicked some hair from his face and for a moment, she thought he seemed familiar.

He knew my name. That accounts for something, doesn’t it? Then again, it wasn’t as if her face was unknown amongst at least a dozen military and auxiliary units across the Alliance and otherwise.

“She’s got enemies and so do I,” Quin said, her voice cool, controlled. “If you were us, you’d be paranoid, too. Who’s asking?”

The soldier grimaced and glanced around, then stepped closer. It wasn’t until he did that she recognized him as one of Shaw’s men. “Master Shaw needs a word with the Commander. Trying to get a small force in quickly to get the lay of the land and her name came up as maybe having an anchor point for a portal in.”

“Ah,” Quin crossed her arms, her Argent tabard bunching for a moment as she did. “She’s with the rest of the unit that was called up, over there by the Lady Grey. Surprised that Shaw is looking for an Argent unit for this.”

“He’s not,” the man—Riley, if she was remembering correctly—said, starting to move past her toward the dock where the brigandine Lady Grey lay at anchor. Quin fell in with him, her brow arching in invitation to continue. He glanced at her and made a face, but said, “You’re all still technically in Alliance service.”

“Technically,” she said crisply. “Now ask me how long it’s been since we acted as an Alliance auxiliary.”

He winced. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll admit that Shaw might’ve mentioned that he thought we could count on the support considering…”

“Considering it was Dalaran,” Quin said. “And up until recently, many of our families were there.”

“I won’t lie and say that the sudden departure of the Earl of Ware’s grandchildren and the scouring of his mercantile’s offices there wasn’t noticed by SI:7, Adama.”

“He would be a piss-poor intelligence service if that was missed.” Quin smirked. “You’re dying to ask, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Riley admitted. “But I won’t. I imagine someone already knows.”

“Likely,” she agreed. “Where does Shaw want to meet her?”

“I’m to escort her back to him.”

He stopped walking as Quin circled around to block his path, holding up a gloved finger. “Then wait here. I’ll bring her to you and I’ll brief the rest.”

He blinked. “Wait, brief? What do you mean?”

“Like you said. We’re still technically Alliance auxiliaries and what I heard was that if the commander can do what Shaw is going to ask, then we’re going ahead as an advance unit to get the lay of the land and do what we do.”

Riley started at her, some of the color draining from his face. “But—”

“No buts,” Quin said. “And Shaw thought anything other than that was going to happen, then we’ve been gone too long. Wait here. I’ll bring her to you.”

With that, she pivoted and walked into the controlled chaos that was the dock itself and the dozens of people preparing to ship out into the unknown.

[houseildanan]

Argents Lost - Summer Winds (part 3)

The former Ebon he’d met on the trail still hadn’t given him her name, but she’d told him enough to win enough wary trust for him to return to the outpost with her.  The enterprise had been aided by a sudden ache that began somewhere deep inside his knee and a shift in the wind.  He’d lived in Northrend long enough to know what those two things together heralded.

Stormclouds swept down onto K3 as they reached the inn, led by biting wind that stung his face and made his eyes water.  The inn at K3 was decidedly worn, weather-beaten, but in good repair.  The windows looked like they’d been replaced recently and the floors and tables in the common room were decidedly clean, though they still carried a timeworn, hard-used charm, battered and scuffed as they were. Its warmth and shelter—and the smell of venison stew and cider—were a welcome comfort after so narrowly dodging the storm.

The table his newfound companion led him toward was tucked into a shadowed corner and was already occupied by a figure tall enough that he guessed it must be another Kaldorei.  The figure had both hands wrapped around a mug of something steaming, beringed—and there was something else, something he didn’t quite see until the figure lifted the mug to drink, a glint of silver.

His heart slammed into his throat and he stopped in his tracks.  His companion put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

“She won’t harm you,” she said softly.  “You have nothing to fear from her.”

“There are—”

“Yes,” she said.  “But something tells me your face will strike her familiar.”

“I’m not—”

“It has nothing to do with your resemblance to Ildanan Sunstar.”

He swallowed bile, but started walking again.  The figure—a woman, and unless he missed his guess, the woman called the Mistwraith—was looking at them now, argent eyes gleaming in the shadows of a drawn hood. He swallowed again as he carefully drew one of the chairs out from the table and sank into it, glancing back over his shoulder to see where his companion was going to sit—and found her gone.

“She’ll be getting you something bracing,” the hooded woman said.  There was a faint rasp to her voice but the familiarity was unmistakable. He nearly swallowed his tongue.

“I—”

“You’ll be needing it, Lord Kyvare.”

He rocked back, eyes widening.  In the shadows of her hood, there was a flash of a smile, almost but not quite feral.

“Yes.  I’m aware of who you are.  I’m also aware of what you were taught.”

“How—”

“I’m not certain the answer to your question matters overmuch, but if you really want an answer, I’ll give you one in exchange for an answer to a question of my own, first.” She leaned back and he could feel the weight of her gaze hanging heavy upon him.  “Why are you, of all people, seeking them when you have a family and responsibilities that should preclude a mission like this—one, I might add, that has been forbidden by the organization that saw you bound to them? Of all the sorts seeking those lost, you were among the last I would have imagined to see here.”

“What of you?” he blurted. “Why are you two looking for them?”

“Because she is my mother,” she said.  “And they are her family and I should think, with all that’s happened, I should owe her that much.  And you?”

“Because I didn’t think anyone else was and I wasn’t about to ask my family to come unless—unless I knew.”

“Whatever goes into that gully doesn’t come out,” she said.  “But they’re not dead.”

“No,” he confirmed.  “No, they’re not.”

“You’re certain?”

“Your cousin is.”

She fell silent.  The former Ebon returned to the table, setting a mug slowly down in front of him as she looked between him and the hooded woman.

“Well,” she said dryly. “I see you’ve gotten started without me. I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

The hooded woman reached up to push back her hood, smiling up at the Ebon.  “One time.”

“Near unmitigated disaster one time,” the Ebon said, seating herself.  “And a lesson learned.  What have you told him?”

“Likely no more than whatever you did to get him to come back with you.”

He coughed politely and wrapped his hands around the mug, letting the warmth bleed into his fingers. “My apologies, ladies, but I think we’ve missed a few things.”

“You already know who I am, Lord Kyvare, and I know who you are,” Mistwraith said, studying him.  “Unless it’s not pleasantries you’re getting at.”

“I—well, it was, yes, but also no.  How—how long have you been looking?”

“Long enough to know there are two sites of interest,” the Ebon said.  “You stumbled across one.  The other is a frozen waterfall and a river that don’t seem quite right.”

The mug between his hands shattered.

[golden-routes]

Orbinid Route In Hallowfall 1

Premium WoW Gold Guides – Gaminghero.io

[lendasdeazeroth]

O Reino de Arathor se expande

A Expansão de Arathor e a Formação da Aliança Humana Ascensão de Arathor Cerca de 2.700 anos antes dos conflitos catastróficos conhecidos como a Primeira Guerra, o continente de Azeroth estava fragmentado em numerosos clãs e tribos humanas. A região central, onde hoje se encontram as Terras Pestilentas, era dominada pela poderosa cidade-Estado de Strom, que viria a ser conhecida futuram...

https://lendasdeazeroth.com.br/a-era-dos-mortais/o-reino-de-arathor-se-expande/

[streets-in-paradise]

There's a Songbird who Sings - Steve Harrington x (Fem)Henderson!Reader

Stranger Things Oneshot

Warnings: This is just fluff and musical references. I wrote it on my phone, so there was not much proofreading. It may have a few typos (sorry)

Summary: Steve accidentally discovers your real singing voice and you try to explain him why you feel Insecure of it.

Notes: As quite a few oneshots i have released before, this short thing is an attempt of bringing to life a mentioned moment in my headcanon series. It can be read separatedly, but for more context you can check it on my masterlist.

Tags: @losersclubisms

No matter how much he had grown, Dustin will always be your little brother. Still, as time passed there were certain shared rituals he was starting to consider childish despite being comforting. Bedtime ones were the most shamefull to him, he slowly stopped asking directly for that sort of comfort even at those times where he did need it. However, you would always be able to read him well enough to provide the care without an expressed ask.

" If Steve finds out I will kill you." The boy warned you, guessing your intention as soon as you sat on the bed next to him " I'm not a baby anymore, you don't have to sing for me. "

" But I want to." You reassured him, sweetly caressing the top of his head. " Would you call Aragorn, son of Arathor, a baby for finding comfort in singing songs to his friends? "

The reference made him smile.

" Although it's true that badass characters in Lord of the Rings are always singing, you have to accept we live under different cultural values."

You chuckled, not willing to refuse the claim.

" And you have to accept you are never too old for comfort. " Was your simple correction. " It's alright, I promise no one will find out. Steve is still in the living room and with the TV on, I doubt he would hear anything."

In that at least you were mistaken, since the secrecy didn't last long.

He didn't mean to eavesdrop, Steve merely wondered if you needed help calming the boy down from the emotional consequencies of the awfull day he had. It was the reason why he was staying over; joining forces with you to make things better for him. He was about to announce himself, but stopped right away like if he was caught up in a sudden trance.

Your voice.

" There's a feeling I get when I look to the West and my spirit is crying for leaving." You were singing for the boy a the other side " In my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees and the voices of those who stand looking."

Soft as a caress, the sweet and undeniably feminine charm of your interpretation was one hell of a surprise. He had no idea you could actually sing, even less that you sounded that good. In awe as he was with the discoverment, he could only remain there untill you would finish fearing that making his presence be noticed would make you stop.

Carefull as he was of not letting your brother know he have been there, he still couldn't hide the shock as soon as he saw you. The pure adoration in his eyes betrayed him, but you were just a bit embarrassed.

" Dustin likes it, don't make it a big deal." You justified yourself in advance, whispering your way out of the bedroom area. " When we were younger I used to tell him stories all the time, and sing for him on bad nights. He still enjoys it, but he is growing up and would prefer to keep it as a secret."

" I can easily see why." Steve recalled as he followed you. " Stairway to Heaven is a great choice, you do sound like an angel."

Unsure of how to react, your freaky side emerged.

" Actually, there is this very dumb backsmashing controversy claiming it hides a satanic message. Conservatives would claim I'm brainwashing my brother into a cult"

Absolute cluelessness, he couldn't help loving it a little bit.

" It's cliche, but is one of the very first rock songs I learned full lyrics for so i used to sing it all the time back when he was very little. " You continued, admitting some guilt he didn't find a reason for. " There is a repetition comfort aspect in it, when he is down I know he wants to hear that one. I tried to switch it as I was learning more, but Don't Fear the Reaper didn't have the same effect."

Being back in the living room gave you more freedoom to talk.

" That's so sweet, you are great big sis. " He praised you, then turned off the tv. " and a great singer as well, turns out. I mean it for real, but i guess your freak friends must have told you that already. Aren't they in a band?"

He made you laugh and, despite pleased for it, he had no idea of why.

" Thanks, Steve. Is very nice of you to say that, but the truth is that I never use my real singing voice in public."

The confession was delivered with a clear undertone of shame and that confused him a bit.

" I know, I just noticed it. We have listened to music together and when we sing along you never sound like that. "

" Neither I do with Eddie, it would be so embarrasing if he would have heard that. I'm sorry you had to. "

That part encouraged him, but he was still not getting it.

" You have to be kidding, that was awesome!"

" Not in metalhead standards. " You explained yourself. " What I did was taking the most popular and overused song from an actually cool hard rock band and turn it into a lullaby sounding pop garbage because that fits my vocal range better. It's an abomination, the disney princess version of a rock anthem. "

Of course , that didn't seem a problem to him.

" I guess it could fit in the Snow White and the Seven Nerds soundtrack. "

You wanted him to take it serious, since it was a real insecurity for you.

" I have been cursed, Steve. I do love to sing, but my voice doesn't fit in my favorite genres and that's one of my biggest frustrations. " You exaggerated in an attempt to mock yourself while being graphic. " There is metal in my veins, but I sound like the most comformist pop singer. The best I can give is a decent ' Race With The Devil' GirlSchool cover, but never the sort of shit any of the guys would find trully cool. "

" Bullshit, show that to Munson and he would loose his shit "

He was just trying to prove a point cheering you up, but as soon as it began to cross unwanted territory he deviated the conversation back on the two of you. His intention was to make you feel better, not to make things easier for other guy to steal your attention.

" … Or better don't, and let this be our little secret so I only have to share your voice with Dustin. "

[xalatath]

Tagged by @lynxfrost13 , thank u :>

Last song:

Favorite color: Red

Currently watching: Breaking bad

Last movie: The Bay

Relationship status: Single :')

Current obsession: A certain void entity who has captured my heart and mind

Last thing you googled: arator wow (bc i confuse his name with arathor lol)

I'll tag @vampvalerian @malecius @holytrickster @squiphobia @luvtm and anyone else who wants to do this feel free

[rhaemaya-valwynn]

Dawnseekers- A World of Warcraft Fanfic

Okay, so not going to explain in detail up here, but I'm on a World of Warcraft binge again since starting Season of Discovery a few months back and doing the Tirion questline for the first time (As i had been only 9ish when WoW classic came out so i never experienced more end game stuff) and it reminded me of an ANCIENT fanfic i wrote when i was like 12/ 13? Where I shipped an OC (Scillea Rightworn at the time, now named Scillea Dawnseeker) with Arthas Menethil n stuff.

Well as you can guess, the hyperfixation hit again and in honor of my younger self I have broken down the old fic and rewritten it/ updated it to my more experienced standard. So I guess if you like AU's in the WoW universe and some very flexible takes on some characters, please read below!

So, as Warcraft has gone on, I've come to heavily dislike them turning the Light into just another 'morally bad' thing like all the other forces. Its okay (in my mind) to have pure good forces and pure bad forces (give or take some outliers) but making the light Authoritarian really sat bad in my mouth.

Now before i get into extreme detail, please be aware Ive tried to hone things down to wow's timeline somewhat but some things may not be 100% accurately placed. It is an AU for a reason! I'm working out a lot of kinks but some of them are just there. So bear with me here. In my AU there is a divide in the 'holy' / 'light' side of the cosmos. There is The Light, which is what it is now currently in WoW, and then there is The Benevolence, a force of pure good that seeks to help rather than contain or control. (Light powers = Gold while Benevolence powers = Silver (or a pure White for the family known as Dawnseekers which is explained below) The Benevolence was kicked out from the holy part of the cosmos and came to Azeroth in its own coffin to rot and finish dying (the shard of light from SoD), but instead was met by graverobbers and vandals who sought to break it down for gold.

There it destroyed those who were impure, burning them away from its gravestone. All except one. This woman (Listrainne Rightworn) was found pure of intent from the others as she had only joined them in an effort to gain gold to feed her family. The Benevolence offered a pact to her. It would aid her in caring for the sick and wounded if she offered her body to house its essence in return so that it would not die. Listrainne agreed, as she had no other option to save her family and while a follower of the Light, she could sense no true malice from the being inside the shard.

The crystal melted and infused itself within the water, and baptized Listrainne with its essence. Upon awakening from the ritual, Listrainne was renamed Dawnseeker from the being inside. "For one who sought the Dawn admist darkness." Her and the god, were as one. Its powers flowed through her and through her it saw humanity in a new light (given that it had been so weak for so long.) It came to understand their strife and as it grew in power over the years within Listrainne, it stayed instead of leaving. "To help the lost, defend the weak, and bring prosperity to you and yours." it had told her.

When Listrainne died, the Benevolence was inherited to her children, and her children's children. (The begats like in the bible.) From their inheritance they learned to make weapons and relics from the dwarves and through the god within them they infused these items with pieces of the Benevolence's essence, making what would eventually be passed down to the first generation of Paladin's (Librams, hammers and blessed armors) The Dawnseeker's were renowned for generations for their work and curing of ailments. For their mark was that of bright white holy light and from them sprung forth the worship of the Benevolence which contended with those who worshiped the Light.

Till the troll wars happened. There, when the Highelves reached out for aid, Arathor sent a Dawnseeker to aid in the war. Unbeknownst to the world, a Dawnseeker was more than just a healer, but a formidable and nigh unstoppable warrior. For any wound inflicted upon them would be healed immediately through the gods powers regardless of how fatal they would be to any mere mortal. Through fire and fury the Dawnseeker, Aliastor, aided the elves in bringing down the amani, only for their allies (the high elves) to realize the true power within this sacred Dawnseeker that the humans cherished so much was something they wanted.

In the last battle, a lesser general struck at Aliastor in attempts to take the power by force as his leaders have openly conversed about seizing it themselves. This nearly broke the newly forged peace between humans and elves. But to the generals dismay, the Benevolence did not take kindly to those who would take it by force.

Here it is merely passed down (or stated) that the god struck the ambitious down and set half the Eversong woods ablaze in its wrath. Or that the magic which the general used (his name wiped from history due to his betrayal) caused an explosion when it countered the gods. Needless to say, the destruction wrought was a bitter topic for both sides. While the humans did not agree with the elves striking against their own saint, the elves were dismayed that such a force existed and so easily destroyed a chunk of their homeland.

It is unknown why the elven king at the time relented, but it was rumored that he had sworn on the Benevolence's own name to abide and honor the alliance made between the two races.

What is known, is that the elves grew imbittered over time and believed it was their right to own the power within the Dawnseeker's. After the war, they disappeared for a while, seemingly moved into hiding till the tensions subsided.

it was 40 years later when Aliastor reappeared in the newly made city state Lordaeron. Here it is noted that he was a lunatic, raving about the new kings lineage being doomed and tried to usurp Torgran Menethil from his newly appointment throne. Though easily dealt with, it was the final lynch pin into sealing the Dawnseeker's fates. Bound by a blood oath to serve Lordaeron for the rest of their days by being the kings hidden blade, making weapons and armor for them should another war arise, but doomed to exile. Those that worshiped the Benevolence died out as their religion was tainted by what happened and their counterparts (those that worshiped the Light) took this as an opportunity to seize control over the shattered faith.

After all of this, things go quiet for a long time. Weapons/armor are made and sent to Lordaeron and the Dawnseeker's are kept hidden in exile. It isn't till the first war happens that they reappear. Daldaron Dawnseeker and his son Tarkhim join the field and while most things play out the same as in canon, it is to be annotated that these wars happen sooner than they do in actual Warcraft.

Daldaron passes soon after the first war due to a wound he acquired from a warlock and his son Tarkhim goes into seclusion not venturing forth during the second war due to having a child during it. Her name is Scillea. At the same time Arthas is born to Terenas and while Varian loses his father before he could even have met him (due to the wars happening sooner) Terenas raises the young prince alongside Arthas to keep him from being made a pawn from the house of nobles (and while Stormwind is repaired)

While this is occurring, Tirion Fording is exiled for accusations of being involved with the Orcs during the second war. An aging paladin by this time, Tirion had lost his son Taelan years ago (during the first war) to red lung (pneumonia) at the age of 5 while he was gone to war. Upon returning Tirion found that his wife had left him, accusing him of abandoning them at their time of need and refusing to waste anymore of her life (as I'm aging her up and having them married longer) with him. Tirion went into a deep depression and by the time the second war occurred, he was set upon dying heroically while fighting the orcs in order to 'do something right in his life.' During such a fight he is saved by the Orc Etrigg who is abandoning his post due to his sons dying from poor leadership sending them back into a fruitless battle. Tirion is outraged by this and tries to fight the orc, only for them to be evenly matched. It is during this fight that Tirion remains honor bound as they fight one on one, not taking the quick kills he could have taken, to which the orc returns the gesture.

It is only when they are both sorely winded (being aged) that the orc speaks to him in common, stating that: "You have the eyes of one who's lost a son." to which Tirion realizes that the orc too bears such a pained look in its own eyes. Here they talk about their past and in it Tirion finds courage to keep going and promises to leave the orc alone after it explained what is going on in the horde. Unbeknownst to him, Barthilas (whom had come to save his teacher) sees them talking and reports it.

When Tirion returns to camp, he is immediately put into chains and court-marshalled. He stays in jail till the end of the war to await his trail where he barely escapes the death penalty. There, Tirion is promptly stripped of rank and excommunicated from the Silver Hand and sent into exile.

It is during his journey into exile, that Tirion is met by a young mute child no older then 4. A girl who goes by the name Scillea Dawnseeker. She and her father Tarkhim end up showing Tirion how to build a new home though Tirion doesn't feel everything is right with Tarkhim given how he is aloof to his daughters state (unkempt, unclean and covered in mud and worn clothes) or caring for her safety.

During the child's 5th year, she took her first trip to Lordaeron with her father to deliver weapons and have her first blood oath binding. It is there that she meets Arthas, the young prince eager to make friends after his step brother Varian is sent away to be openly raised by the other founding kingdoms, exchanging hands per season till his 16th birthday.

Arthas and Scillea make a strong bond immediately, both finding in the other what they needed. A friend. Someone to play tag with, or hide and go seek, to climb trees and explore with wonder the castle walls. Even after it is revealed she is a Dawnseeker, Arthas does not believe her to be ill or evil and promises to meet her every year for her visit, to 'play again.'

When Scillea returns home, she goes to Tirion and asks him (through sign language) to teach her how to talk. He agrees and Scillea begins to spend more and more time with him. Eventually one night Tirion can no longer turn a blind eye to her state and begins to take care of her as if she were his own daughter.

It is here that I plan to start the story (thought maybe some back tracking on certain things with the prologue and first couple of chapters.)

I thank you if you've stuck around this far! There's much more than this in the story but I felt getting some of the groundwork out might be a good starting point in posting more about it (if i have the courage to, ha! I really need to work on just posting my thoughts and not caring.)

Till next time folks!

[luminashdawnwing]

A New Pilgrimage

Luminash had been on pilgrimages of sorts before. To Outland, following the footsteps of the fallen Prince, hoping to ease his pain with the torrents of arcane power promised. To the restored Sunwell to bask in its rejuvenating Light, a truer relief than anything Kael’thas had offered. To the depths beneath Gorgrond in search of knowledge – and a chance encounter with the raw power of ancient Goria. To Argus to listen to the hopeful keening within the pained screams of that dying world’s very soul.

His mother, a priestess of the Light, had taught him a healthy respect of the powers beyond, though his father, a magister and professor in Dalaran, had taught him a more pragmatic approach. Their son took lessons from both, and when he wove strands of arcane magic, he did so with a delicate, near-worshipful touch – to understand something, to truly know it, to take it into oneself utterly and completely was an act of worship, after all.

Now, the Song had drawn him beyond the repaired Coreway, into Azeroth’s depths, a pilgrimage to the lands blessed by Beledar’s blazing light. The end of the others, though, he knew. Seeking power first, then to understand it. Here, though, he only knew the where, not the why.

It was driving him mad.

“It is a rare outsider who shows such an interest in this collection of tomes,” a voice said, a low and gentle tone. Respectful, given the dual nature of this place – part church for the Arathi’s Sacred Flame, part archive of what culture the Hallowfall expedition had salvaged from their disastrous arrival.

Luminash turned away from the shelves of codices to see an Arathi man in gold and white armor with red cloth accents, head shaved clean to reveal the half-elven ears typical of the people of Hallowfall.

“Truly? I find that strange. Why, when coming upon a new people, would one not show interest?” the magister wondered aloud, turning his attention fully to the Arathi, though his mind’s eye danced with words gleaned from the spines.

Dimensional Structure. Beledar’s Light. The Emperor’s Vision. Renilash.

“Ah, but judging by your looks – forgive me, friend, if I speak falsely – we Arathi are not entirely foreign to you,” the armored man offered with a slight smile, just a quirk of his lips, and a finger tapped to one of his own pointed ears.

Luminash quirked his head, somewhat disarmed by the observation. Where did this armored man intend to go with this line of inquiry, the magister wondered.

“Are you from the land of Quel’Thalas, by chance?” the Arathi continued, eyes bright as he let the question spill from his lips, “We Arathi are the children of Old Arathor, its humans and elves both. As exciting as it must be for you outsiders to meet us, imagine, if you will, seeing faces only known from our most ancient histories. And to know they share…this.” He approached the shelves, fingers placed reverently on the spine of a book, his hand obscuring its title.

“Ryfus Sacredpyr, by the way. I tend to the collected knowledge of the Arathi people here. And you are?”

Luminash relaxed, tension dissolving from his shoulders. Of course. A scholar’s curiosity, the gentleness of a librarian garbed in the necessity of war. The magister understood, suddenly and intuitively, just what sort of man this Arathi was.

“Luminash Dawnwing. Of Quel’Thalas, yes. Tell me, do your histories of this…Old Arathor?” A moment to acclimate himself to the term, “Do they make mention of magisters?”

Ryfus pursed his lips in thought, a look of concentration as he sifted through the depths of books read long ago, then nodded, realization dawning on his face.

“Ah, you are a magister! Of course you would find your way to my humble archive, then! Keepers of arcane knowledge and power, and…” Ryfus paused, “The tutors of Old Arathor’s One Hundred were called magisters in some accounts. It is so long ago, though, that those details are hazy.”

Luminash nodded, “Let us say keepers of knowledge, yes. I have come seeking something. A Song, if you will. Do you have anything on… How ought I describe this?”

Ryfus listened, eyes wide in anticipation. He seemed poised to speak, but rather allowed Luminash to continue.

“It has come in dreams. Countless others have seen it, and described it as overpowering, calming, peaceful, unnerving, innumerable other descriptions. I can sense a warmth in it, though, and currents of the arcane weaving in and out,” he mused as he fingered the spine of Beledar’s Light, “I can feel echoes of the Song in my waking hours all around Hallowfall. Beledar possesses its calm and beauty, yes, but the source of the latent arcane power eludes me. I had hoped to find a lead here.”

The lorekeeper nodded, pulling a book from the shelf. His hand, in fact, had rested on it this whole time, and the eagerness with which he revealed it spoke to his certainty, “Magister, here. Start here, perhaps, but do come back. There are others, many others, I think, that you’ll find enlightening.” He quirked another smile at the pun.

The book offered was bound in new leather, clearly from just the period of time the expedition had spent within Hallowfall: Reflections of the Sacred Flame.

Before Luminash could thank the Arathi, the other man had already begun to pull others from the shelf, including The Emperor’s Vision and Beledar’s Light, right out from under the magister’s hand.

“I cannot say for certain, my outsider friend, but I believe, by the Flame, that you’ve come to the right place.”

[wyrmguardsecrets]

Spit in my mouf mr. duke trollslayer of arathor :3

[nelisims]

Anya's morning practice.

[graceintheshadows]

Lucky ones - Part 2

[see @lordaeronslost for part 1]

The dagger gleamed on the coverlet, polished gunmetal with the smallest hints of blued steel showing through, like stars in the night sky.  The moonstone in the pommel glowed dimly, like Elune set high on a winter night.  The pieces that matched it were laid out to either side and she stood at the edge their bed, staring at the weapons laid out across the blankets.

“Roiya.”

She nearly flinched at the gentleness in her husband’s voice, wondering how many times he’d said her name before she’d heard.  The distraction—no matter the source—that had swallowed her whole was unforgivable.

I’ve gotten soft.  Perhaps dangerously so.

Of course, that had been by design.

“We’re sure they’re safely settled?”  She half-turned toward Keydyn, her brows knitting.  “That nothing will—”

“Siryn will be with them this time,” her husband said, setting aside his whetstone boot dagger.  “And Lord Sam and Lady Mina will be there, too.  They’ll be fine while the rest of us—”

“That’s what we’ve said a dozen times,” the priestess said with a deep sigh.  “More than that, even.  And sometimes it hasn’t been that way.  It hasn’t been fine.”  Her lips thinned slightly as Keydyn’s hands settled on her arms.  For a moment, she squeezed her eyes shut.

“What’s really bothering you?” he whispered.  “It’s not as if you’re actually capable of staying retired.  You’ve tried three times and it hasn’t stuck.”

“This could have been the time,” she said with the barest trace of wry humor.  A lump built in her throat and she stepped closer, leaning into his chest and inhaling the scent of woodsmoke and leather.  “I just thought—I thought it would be different.  This wasn’t in my plan.”

“What was?”  Keydyn rested his cheek against her temple, wrapping both arms around her as her head settled against his shoulder.  “Were you intending to go out hunting for—”

“Yes,” she whispered.  “No.  I don’t know—maybe I was.  Maybe I was going to make a request of someone to—to do it.”

“We knew that something bad was going to happen,” he said softly.  “The minute Jude got that letter, we knew.  I suspect you knew sooner than that.  Did he...?”

She nodded slightly.  “He did, but the warning wasn’t as stark.  I don’t know why.  Maybe he expected me to be able to glean more information from what wasn’t in the note than I did.  Perhaps he thought Elune would grant me insight.  Damned if I know.”

“Do you think he’ll join us?  Be called up like we are?”

Roiya took a slow, deep breath and shook her head.  “I don’t know.  Based on everything I know, I’d assume that he has duties that will keep him closer to home and considering that we don’t know exactly what kind of situation we’re going to be walking into...no.  No, Keydyn, I don’t think they’ll be calling him up soon.  Not unless he comes as a volunteer.”

“While the rest of us are voluntold.”  He shot her a grin and pressed a kiss to her jaw, then feather-light one to her lips.  “At least we get to go into this with family.  Speaking of, are you ready to eat?  I heard a rumor about one last big meal tonight before we have to finish making ready.”

“A last breath before the storm,” Roiya said softly, glancing back at the weapons laid out on the coverlet.  “Hopefully they’ll be able to see us off from Stormwind.”

“I’m sure that arrangements are already in the works,” Keydyn said, squeezing her one more time before he released her.  “Does she know?”

Her eyes fluttered shut and she sighed.  She knew who he meant.

She shook her head.  “No.  But by morning, she will.  Would you like me to...?”

“I’ll have something to send with yours just after dinner.”

Roiya nodded, letting one hand trail down his arm until their fingers wove together.  “We’ll make time,” she said softly.  “To make up for it.  The three of us.”

“And then the five of us,” he said softly, fingers tightening for a moment.  “This time, you’re stuck with me, Roiya Shadowpaw.  Whether you like it or not.”

The ghost of a grin curved her lips as she stared back at him.  “Bold of you to assume that I’m the one stuck, Keydyn Silverstag.  I am far more of a handful than you are.”

The ranger laughed and dragged her close again, slinging his arm across her shoulders.  “We’ll see about that.”

“Will we?”

“Certainly.  And so will any damn spider that tries to come between us.”

“Hell.  Any fate that tries to come between us.”  She reached up to run her fingers along his cheek and jaw.  “I love you.  You know that.”

“I know,” he agreed.  “And you know the same of me.  I came back from the dead for you.”

“You came back from the Dream for me.”

One corner of his mouth kicked up into a smirk.  “A little bit of both.  At least that’s how Nikus explains it.”

“Speaking of—he’s coming with us, isn’t he?”

Keydyn frowned, glancing toward the door.  “That’s the impression I got, but you know him.”

“I certainly do.  We both do.  But this—”

“I know.  We’ll have to see.  Have to find out.”

“Yes,” she said softly.  “Yes, we will.”

She didn’t like the idea of the druid staying behind.  They’d need both he and his daughter both in the field as healers at the very least, regardless of the magnitude of what they’d end up facing.  That was still an unknown beyond knowing that it would be nerubians.

To what end and what fresh war they were walking into, the priestess-assassin known as Shadowgrace wasn’t certain.  All she knew was that after three attempts at retirement, she was headed out again to war.

[lordaeronslost]

Lucky ones

The warning had saved their lives.

From his small desk in their shared office at Valiance, Arcavius watched his longtime commander turned mentor as she read the latest report for what was now the third time.  Outside, the wind keened with a storm that had swept in off the water, leaving the windows and exterior walls coated in ice.

Somehow, given the reports that kept coming in, Northrend’s gales seemed far preferable to the fate that had come to so many who’d been in Dalaran instead.  Grimstryke’s warning had saved them to be certain, though the chill that crept down Arcavius’s spine had nothing to do with the cold.

Two more days and they’d have been back in Dalaran.  Half of them had been due to go and meet with some colleagues there ahead of their next duty rotation.  He had no doubt that whatever the plan had originally been for that, it was about to change.

He cleared his throat.  “Is there anything new in that one, Commander, or is it the same as the rest?”

“No,” she growled.  “No, not really.  No one seems to—blast it all.  No one seems to know anything beyond something apparently going terribly wrong just after the teleportation.  Some kind of attack.  This one at least suggests that more information could be forthcoming but I’ll be damned if—”

“Jude.”  Quin stood in the doorway, fully armored and cheeks ruddy from the cold.  Some of the snow and ice from outside was melting into her short-cropped hair in the warmth from the stove in the corner.  In her hand was an envelope bearing an Argent seal and she held it out toward the red-haired mage.  “Another report.  Orders were for your eyes first.”

Brow furrowing slightly, Jude came around the desk to take the letter from the paladin.  “Who delivered it?”

“You sure you want to know?”

Jude winced at that before she slid her thumb beneath the seal.  “Of course I don’t.  Do you think that—”

“I think that everything is coming at us very quickly and that every side is going to need every level-headed commander that they have at the ready,” Quin said, folding her hands behind her in a parade rest.  “Present company included.”

Jude winced again, reading the report once, then again.  Lips thinning, she handed it back to Quin.

“What is it?” Arcavius asked.

“We’re to leave a skeleton garrison here and immediately report to Stormwind for imminent deployment,” Jude said quietly.  “Alert the others, Cavandar.”

“Of course,” Arcavius murmured, feeling his heart start to crawl up into his throat.  “But why is the Argent Da—Crusade sending us to Stormwind for deployment?  Where are we going?”

“Seems that the attack on Dalaran involved nerubians,” Quin said, folding the report.  “Curious, that.”

“Very curious,” Jude agreed.  “But it does explain why they want us.”

“Yup,” Quin sighed.  “Because if there’s one thing that we’re as good at dealing with as undead…”

Arcavius winced.  “…it’s nerubians.”

“Spread the word, Arcavius,” Jude said again.  “Portals up at dawn.”

[rhainesmg]

Blizzard's Folklore is Woefully Lacking

And I took that personally.

Folklore and mythology are as key to worldbuilding as art, music, language, and economy. Who does the farmer give thanks to for a bountiful harvest – and how does his village celebrate that bounty? What do people blame or attempt to placate when a child falls ill? All of these things – or a notable lack thereof in strongly secular cultures – are key to making a culture feel more full and developed.

To that end, let’s look at druids in WoW. Kaldorei druids have mountains of lore. They and the Wild Gods that they venerate are important to and deeply ingrained in Kaldorei culture. But then we come to Worgen druids and get… a three-paragraph entry about Harvest Witches restoring the crops of Gilneas during a famine, then eventually learning true druidism from the Kaldorei when Gilneas fell to the combination of the Worgen Curse and the Forsaken invasion.

Lordaeron has... no druids? At all? No Harvest Witches, no Thornspeakers, no... Greenfriends, nothing. Gilneas was never a part of Lordaeron, Kul Tiras was never a part of Lordaeron, but they were NEIGHBORS. The cultural OVERLAP! Arathor? Alterac? You're telling me the HILLFOLK and the MOUNTAIN PEOPLE don't have gods and spirits, or Skalds, Druids, and Seers somewhere in their histry?

I call bullshit.

ALSO, so many of the Amani and Gurubashi Loa have SINGLE PARAGRAPHS of lore surrounding them. HOW? ARE YOU THIS SLOPPY? BLIZZARD? Even the most AMATEUR worldbuilders know that you don't just give a give a god a name and a shape and SLAP IT ON THE BOARD! What are their tenets? How do they interact with their followers? Do they HAVE many followers?

So anyway, I've made it my problem, and I'm working on some fanon lore for the Eastern Kingdoms. It's a massive undertaking, I am QUITE DAUNTED, and I've slowed down just a little bit already, but I am determined to succeed.

[golden-routes]

Where To Find Rich Soil Nodes In TWW WoW

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