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baelar-maeranar · 5 years

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Traits - The Valarjar

Full name: Baelar Maer’Anar

Pronunciation: Bay-LAR Mare-A-NAAR

Nicknames: B | Bae | Guardian

Zodiac: Taurus

Languages. Common | Darnassian | Dwarvish | Some Orcish |

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

Height: 7′2

Age: Adult by his peoples standards

Hair Color: Midnight Blue

Eye Color: Bright Silver

Skin Tone: Deep plum

Body Type: Heavily muscled - especially around the arms, back, and chest. Clearly a man who wields heavy armor, and heavy weapons.

Dominant hand: Ambidextrous

Posture: Upright and proud

Scars: Ugly stab wound on his shoulder - looks to be infected by some Fel corruption and never quite looks like it’s healed. | Jagged stab between his lowest ribs on his left side - a nearly fatal blow | Burns all along his arms, chest, neck, and up over his left ear - a clear indication he was there when Teldrassil burned. | Various scars from various battles all over

Tattoos: Two wolves devour the sun and the moon on each pectoral, their bodies twisting into Valkyrul knots as they go up over each shoulder, where each is capped with stylistic depictions of the World Trees. Runes encircle the boughs of the trees and are prayers to Elune. The rest of the knot work stems from the roots of the trees, and stop at each elbow. Clearly done by Vyrkul tattoo methods, and look to be quite proud - despite the burns that have warped the wolves on his chest, and nearly destroyed the tree on his left shoulder.

Most noticeable features: His strange haircut - which has the back, and sides buzzed short to the skull, with the top left to do as it pleases - often tied back into a little tail to keep it out of his eyes. Clearly a choice for convenience rather than show and inspired by human styles.

CHILDHOOD.

Place of birth: Ashenvale

Hometown: Astranaar

Birth weight/height: 10 pounds, 22 inches long

Manner of birth: Natural

First words: “Ahn’va!” Though his parents hotly debated on if he was trying to say “An’da” (Father in Darnassian) or Ahn’valdae (His mothers beloved saber) he was actually attempting to call the tiger to him.

Siblings: None

Parents: Rae’lyndra Leafrunner - Mother. Sentinel. Deceased. Tahldren Maer’Anar - Father. Druid of the Claw. Deceased

Parental involvement: Baelar grew up in a loving, and adoring family. His mother was a wild, strong, and proud Sentinel, and his Father a demanding, hard, and disciplined druid. The two of them took to rearing Baelar separate: His mother taught him practical knowledge - hunting, cooking, repairing clothes, tracking, rearing cubs. Whereas his father attempted to teach him magic - but quickly learned that his son was not blessed to be a druid as he was. In his disappointment, and rage, Baelar’s father went into a deep slumber to see if he could find answers in the dream, leaving Baelar without a father figure for most of his upbringing. However his mother proved to be all he needed.

ADULT LIFE.

Occupation: When no active duties from the Alliance, or needs of the settlement Baelar is camped in, he makes most of his coin by being a builder, and carpenter. He usually will be tasked to add additions onto a house, or build a stable, or rebuild something that has gone into disrepair. Otherwise, he is a soldier.

Current Residence: A modest and secret camp tucked against the mountains of Darkshore - taking the fight to the Horde where he can.

Relationship Status: Involved with @daughter-of-ashenvale

Financial Status: Modest by all standards

Vices: Alcohol | Anger |

SEX & ROMANCE.

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Romantic Orientation: Straight

Preferred Emotional Role: submissive | dominant | switch | unsure

Preferred Sexual Role: submissive | dominant | switch | sex repulsed

Libido: On the high side, usually.

Love Language: Tender and true. Though Baelar doesn’t make a point to do much in the way of public displays of a ffection, whomever he is with will have no doubt of his love for them. Behind closed doors, he is hyper affectionate, always within their space, his hands upon their form, kissing, and hugging them. One could even say he is doting, as he will go out of his way to do anything for them, get them what they would like, and make sure they want for nothing in his presence.

Relationship Tendencies. Slow. Baelar spent most of his life within various battles with his people, and hardly had time to find a mate to court. As such, he can seem almost hilariously oblivious if someone is hitting on him, or trying to make a pass. However, when he finds someone he loves he will be absolutely devoted to them.

MISCELLANEOUS.

Hobbies to pass the time: Carpentry | Whittling | Knot work | Metal working

Mental illnesses: PTSD | Depression | Anxiety | Anger Issues |

Physical Illnesses: Years of battle has taken it’s toll on his knees, hips, and ankles.

Left or right brained: Left

Fears: Chains | Isolation | Fel-Corruption | Losing himself to rage and not coming back

Self Confidence Level: Moderate

Vulnerabilities: His family - Lyrial and Saelyn’dia. Ahnvae, Ishte, and their cubs. His rage, which clouds all judgement

Tagged by: @dae-shadowvale

Tagging: @daughter-of-ashenvale and everyone else!

#Baelar Maer'Anar #The Kaldorei Valarjar

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baelar-maeranar · 6 years

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War of Thorns - Empty Chairs, at Empty Tables

Baelar and Inaara galloped through the chaotic streets as fast as they possibly could.

Lor’Danel was compromised, the Horde war machine was on it’s way, and the last bastion of hope - their capitol, their home, Teldrassil was all that stood in their way. Lyrial, his beloved, his wife, his heart and his soul, had witnessed first had the horrors the Horde could wrought in Astranaar, and their worries had rightfully been turned to the innocents within their home. The two had split, Lyrial staying behind to grant her beloved as much time as she could while he worked with the evacuation effort that was already taking place.

Hundreds of families, fathers left alone with their children, retired woman, and all manner of civilians were filling onto the last few remaining ships in the harbor, but where would they sail? Where would they go? The peaceful sea side town was being sieged at this very moment, with their final fighting force left there to defend it - who would protect them if they sailed there?

Baelar couldn’t think of that, not yet anyway. He was here for two very specific reasons, and they were the most important in this moment.

He pulled Inaara through the throngs of people, their arms and backs burdened with what little belongings they could grab, and pushed her towards the Temple. They rode up the stone bridge with thunderous noise, and before Inaara even came to a stop, Baelar was off her saddle and rushing within.

“Faeindal! Faeindal!” He screamed, frantically looking for the old Cleric, and thanking Elune that he was nearby, shouting orders, moving Priestesses and helping the wounded. The two hardly had time to exchange looks, much less words, before orders of his own left the warriors.

“Get a cart attached to Inaara. Hurry!” He grabbed a nearby Priestess, half telling her the command but his eyes were locked on the Cleric.

“Guardian now is hardly --”

“FAEINDAL!” Baelar snapped, grabbing the man by the robe and pulling him close. “DO IT NOW!”

The Cleric’s eyes steeled over, withered face going stern, but no protests left him. Instead, he shouted orders at others, who quickly snapped into action. They grabbed the Talbuk by the reins, held her still, while the others grabbed a nearby cart - piled high with supplies, and other things, and worked on attaching it to the beast.

Baelar abandoned Faeindal and his questions, and rushed with an urgency that surprised even him, as he rushed down to the cell where they had once been keeping Tythis Diel’Turas. No guards were stationed, so there was little need to explain himself, and without hesitation, he threw open the door and looked within:

Empty.

No sign of his beloved’s best friend, no sign of the rogue he’d brought here, nothing. Good. This was a good sign. The warrior left, and didn’t even bother to close the door.

Half way back to the main portion of the temple, a massive boom shook beneath his feet, so sudden and so resounding that it nearly caused the warrior to lose his footing and stumble over. Frantic screams suddenly sounded from above, and his legs took him in a sprint before he could even think.

He rounded up the spiraling ramp, rushed himself before the mighty moon well, only to see chaos had all but erupted around him.

Woman, children, civilians, and priestesses were screaming, running from the temple grounds, as fire suddenly blazed to life at the outside of the temple. Again, and again, more earth shattered rumbles shook the floor beneath the warrior, and with each passing one more fire sprang to life at the mouth of the temple.

“No, no no no no no!” Baelar whispered, his legs moving as he rushed to the opening, sliding to a halt as he watched civilians rush into the streets in droves, piling over one another as they scrambled to the portal to Rut’Tharian.

“No no no no fuck! Fuck!” Houses were catching fire, more and more catapults launching flaming boulders into his peaceful home, and setting everything into chaos.

“Guardian! Baelar! Baelar stop!” He heard someone calling his name, but the warrior didn’t stop. He saw the Priestesses scrambling to get the cart secured, but he didn’t have time to let them finish. He had to get to his house, he had to make sure that Tythis, Riley, Rakir, and Tieuve were safe.

“Leave it! There is no time!” He shouted at the woman, “Help everyone else! Go! Go!” They scrambled away without a moments hesitation. He was on the saddle within seconds, but before he could leave, Faeindal was standing before Inaara, his weathered hands holding her bridle and not letting her leave.

“What are you doing?!” He seethed. “Why are you not back in Lor’Danel--”

“Faeindal stop. Just fucking stop.” Baelar snarled. “Shut the fuck up, and stay here. Help everyone you can, understand? I am going to get as many as I can, and I need you to stay the fuck here, and shut the fuck up, and do your fucking job, understand?”

Faeindal stayed blissfully quiet for a beat, and then another. He clicked his tongue, but no protest left him. Instead, he looked over his shoulder, where his fellow Acolytes, and Priestesses were ushering the wounded, and the frightened onto carts of their own destined to Rut’Tharian. “Lily!” He shouted, and almost immediatly a young girl, barely above the age to receive her facial markings, ran up to his side. Faeindal canted his head towards Baelar.

“Go with him. Make sure you get all that you can. Bring them back here, do you understand?” She nodded, swallowed, eye’s wide with fear and uncertainty. She did not protest however, and just climbed into the cart behind Inaara.

Faeindal took a step back, letting the bridle go. “Elune-Adore, Baelar.” He said solmnly.

“Elune-Adore, old man. Save them, you understand? Save them.”

And with that, they were off.

Smoke choked the two as they took off through the trade district, Baelar wasting little time, despite Lily’s protests behind him. He had to make it to his house. He had to make sure they were safe. They were why he came here, and though his heart squeezed, and his brain screamed at him to stop for the desperate screams all around him, he knew he had to get them first.

They skidded to a stop outside his house, the warrior looking up in horror as he saw the flames raging at the very top - where he and Lyrial would have surely been asleep, curled up in one another’s arms, had the war not called them to the front. “No! No no no no!!!” He reapeated, his mind unable to process any other words than that as he ran to the door and threw it open.

“What do I do?” He heard Lily scream behind him.

“Fucking help everyone else!” He snarled back, and when the door didn’t budge, the warrior kicked it open with a ferocious war cry all his own. The fire had already spread to the main foyer of the house, and part of it had collapsed as he walked inside, eyes frantic as he looked for any signs of life cowering within.

“Tythis! Riley!” He shouted, smoke clogging up his lungs, but no one cried out to him for help. In fact, the house was eerily quiet, besides the raging roar of the fire over head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He rushed into the kitchen, looking for Tieuve, but the leopard was nowhere to be found.

“Tieuve! Where are you! Tieuve!” He heard a whimper from his left, where the living area once was, but it was so engulfed in flames he almost didn’t think he’d heard it. “Fuck, fuck, Tieuve!”

Baelar jumped over a fallen support beam, the fire licking at his plate glad legs, and suddenly he became intimately aware that he was wrapped in an oven, ready to heat up and cook him from within. “Shit, shit, shit!” He snarled beneath his breath, frantically looking around the smoldering ruins of his honeymoon suite for any signs of the leopard.

Finally, he caught sight of a tail, hiding beneath the little table, and without thinking, Baelar flung the burning furniture away from his beloved’s companion, and there she was: Tieuve, paws singed and burned, face a smathering of soot and ash, and her body tense, and eyes afraid. “Tieuve! There you are. Come here girl, come here.” He tried to usher, but the closer he got, the further back she cowered, her eyes frantically looking for any sign of her master, when she found none, she retreated back, until her tail brushed the raging flames behind her, and a painful cry escaped her.

“No no! Tieuve, come here. Come on. I have to get you out of here girl.” He would carry the leopard out of here if he had too. He would endure her claws, her jaws, her protests if it meant getting her out of here safe, damn it.

She backed further away, suddenly trapped between the flames, and the man before her. Her eyes were frantic, and the panicked sounds that left her nearly broke his heart in two. She was looking for Lyrial, and wouldn’t leave without a fight once she realized she wasn’t there. “Fucking, Elune damn it! We don’t have time Tieuve!” Baelar snarled, and closed the distance, grabbing the leopard by the thick leather collar around her neck.

He would drag her out of here if he had too, damn it. He’d save her. He’d save her.

The floorboards above them creaked loudly, dangerously, and Baelar became suddenly aware that they were in much more danger than he initially thought. The roof was about to cave on them, at any moment, and the more he yanked the leopard, the harder she dug her claws into the burning floor beneath her. “DAMN IT TIEUVE! COME ON!” He snarled, half considering choking the poor beast out in order to expedite her evacuation.

The floor above him groaned with it’s own weight, the flames raging harder, and harder above them, before they finally gave way.

The crash was deafening, embers, ash, and flames erupting around Baelar’s arms with the fury of a thousand suns. He was thrown back from the impact, landing roughly on his back, and the smoke that had clogged within his helmet left his eyes stinging with tears, and his mind swimming. He scrambled to his knees, the leopards name a strangled plea on his tongue, as he looked to where she once had been, now covered in fallen debris, still smoldering with rage. A single paw, limp, and lifeless, was slowly catching fire as it peaked from beneath the rubble. In his hand, Baelar looked down at the broken leather collar, stained with ash, and blood, and tattered from where it had broken off her neck.

His heart shattered into a million pieces. He had been sent to save her. He was going to save her.

But he hadn’t.

Tears spilled freely down his cheeks then, drying almost as soon as they left his eyes. A strangled heartbroken cry left him as he smelt the burning fur and flesh as it filled his once beautiful, peaceful, perfect home. The roof creaked dangerously above him again, though he wanted to stay grieving and pull her mangled body from the wreckage, he knew he couldn’t risk his own life - not when she had already been claimed to the fire.

“I’m so sorry...Tieuve I’m sorry...” He whispered, the words barely audible above the roar of the chaos around him. He scrambled to his feet, and nearly stumbled out the front door as the whole house collapsed behind him.

“Guardian!” Lily cried, and rushed to catch him before he fell fully to the ground. She yelped in pain as his armor seared her skin, and with frantic hands, she fumbled with the straps to try and pry it from his skin before he burned alive within it.

Auto pilot seemed to take over the warrior then.

His mind was a fuzzy hum of dull noise, so loud it nearly deafened him, as he looked to the cart full of terrified woman and children before him.

All around him chaos erupted, the terrified screams of people as they burned alive, mourned their lost loved ones, their homes, their lives. They grew so loud, looping in an endless montage of horror in his mind, that he could think of nothing else. His chest piece seared against his chest, having grown so hot he could feel the thin undershirt he wore start to smolder. He would have to remove it, along with his gloves, if he was to make it out of this as unscathed as possible. For what felt like an eternity, he shed his chest plate, his shoulder guards, and his gloves, but nothing brought relief from the searing heat all around him. He piled the pieces into the cart, where the civilians had huddled with one another, ash and burn covered arms feebly wrapping around one another as if that would save them from this hell. He looked at them for a moment, swimming in their horror, fear, and sorrow laden eyes. His heart broke even more at the sight of them, yet he felt himself steel over with resolve at the same time. He would save them. By Elune herself, he would save them. Once he was clad in nothing but his boots, and his leggings he climbed atop the saddle, and pushed Inaara through the burning streets.

Every now and then they would stop, disoriented and fearful civilians clamoring into the cart as they tried to fit as many as they could, but Baelar couldn’t even hear their lamentations, or their hurried thanks. All he could hear were the fires, and the screams, and smell the acrid smoke that claimed so many innocent lives.

“Guardian! Guardian stop!” Lily shouted over the din, and only barely managed to get Baelar’s attention. He pulled Inaara to a stop, who herself was getting more and more frantic, her chuffs loud and protesting as she stamped her hooves. She was just as eager to get out of this hell as everyone else was, and if he wasn’t careful, she was liable to bolt on them at any moment.

“Look! Up there!” Lily pointed, where a frantic man and his small daughter were standing, on the balcony of their home were waving at them. “WE ARE HERE TO SAVE YOU!” Lily shouted, trying to get her timid voice over the din where the father could hear. He seemed to get the general gist of it, and suddenly the two were vanishing back into the burning home.

Baelar slipped from the saddle, his mind still a hazy numb as he moved towards the flaming door, broken down and on it’s hinges in the grass. A ear shattering crack, and then ground shaking BOOM shook the group, and with a terrified whinny, Inaara reared back onto her haunches and bolted down the burning street. Horrified screams shook the passengers of her little cart, as they held on for dear life as the Talbuk ran as fast as she could.

“Inaara! Inaara no!” Baelar shouted after her, but she was gone, the civilians and Lily along with her.

He was alone.

For a breathless moment, Baelar just stood there, looking out at the once beautiful capitol of his people, and he couldn’t stop the tears as they flowed freely from his eyes. All around him, he could hear the helpless cries of his people as they found themselves trapped by this needless violence. He could hear their heartbroken wails of gut wrenching sorrow as they lamented their departed loved ones. He could smell the burning hair, and flesh, and the innocence that was snuffed out in such a reckless act of war.

He never thought he’d never see another battle of such needless death in his life time. He never thought he’d smell the acrid smoke of burning flesh, and being so frozen in his horror, his despair, and heartache there in his beloved city. His heart broke into a million pieces, a choked sob escaping him as he looked down at the broken leather collar in his his hand. His beloved had tasked him with saving her last remaining companion, but he had failed.

The sudden crash of a collapsing building, and the frantic wails of a child, brought the warrior from his despair laden thoughts.

He turned to see the top half of the house had all but collapsed, the flames erupting anew, but the wailing within steeled his resolve. There was no armor to roast him alive, but also none to protect him from the flames, only his legs and feet still wrapped in thick steel and iron.

“I won’t let another one die, damn it,” He snarled beneath his breath, and without wasting another moment lamenting those he didn’t save, he hyper focused on the life he could save.

Baelar jumped through the burning threshold to the home, and deeper within the wailing grew more frantic as terror gripped the child’s heart in a vice. That familiar haze descended over his mind like a thick fog, and though the flames would burn him, scar him, he would not let another poor soul be consumed by this hell.

Further within the wailing could be heard, and using the few remaining pieces of furniture that weren’t ablaze, Baelar managed to clear himself a path towards the frantic screams. Before him was a staircase, the bottom few steps collapsed in, and the limp and lifeless front half of the man from before, pinned beneath the rubble. The roof had collapsed upon him, and in his panic, he must have thrown his young daughter onto the upper parts of the stairs to save her.

She was sat there, sobbing relentlessly as she screamed for her father, her little heart broken as she tried to stop the tears by balling her small fists into her eyes. “An’da! An’da!” She wailed, the flames licking higher, and higher towards her. She tried to crawl deeper into the corner she had wedged herself into, bare feet kicking at the smoldering wood as she bunched her little night gown around her knees.

Baelar felt his heart - the pieces of it that were left - shatter as she wailed for her father, broken and dead beneath the rubble of her home. He couldn’t save Tieuve, but by Elune, he would save this child. He would save her, even if it killed him.

He moved towards the rubble, and without even thinking, grabbed the smoldering debris that had crushed her beloved father, and heaved it with all his might. The flames bit into the skin of his arms, licked at his ash and sweat covered chest, but he didn’t care. He would endure any burn Elune saw fit to lay upon him, if it meant he could save at least one more life.

With a mighty heave, Baelar threw the burning debris away to his left, his hands, forearms, and chest screaming as the embers seared into his skin, but he ignored the bite of the burn. His legs were beginning to shake, the heat from the fire radiating up his armor, and though he wore linen trews beneath, the fabric was beginning to burn as the armor touched it. If he wasn’t quick, he’d lose his legs, and then they’d both be trapped in the burning wreckage.

“I’m here to help,” He told the terrified child, who pushed herself further and further into the wall behind her, despite the flames jumping up all around her. “Come here sweetheart, come here. Let’s get you out of here. Come on,” He ushered, arms sweeping wide, despite the raw pink burns that were beginning to turn black. “Come on, let’s go.”

“But An’da!” She wailed, fresh tears streaming down her face.

“I know. I know about an’da, but come on, I have to get you out of here, okay? Come on, come on sweetheart.”

Another loud rumble from above sent the girl scrambling to her feet, and all but throwing herself into his arms. Baelar wrapped his arms protectively around her, and clutched her too his chest. “That’s a good girl! Come on, be brave for me okay? We’re going to get out of here, but you have to be brave.”

The two then scrambled out of the building, but the moment Baelar turned around, the young girl’s tear and ash stained face over his shoulder, she choked out another wail of despair. “We have to get an’da! An’da! Come with me, an’da! I love you!” Her frantic little arms reached for her father’s lifeless body, and all Baelar could do was clutch her tighter to his chest, and bury her face into his neck as a new set of sobs tore through her small frame.

“I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry...” He whispered, clutching her tightly as they made it out into the street. All around them were walls of flame, and no discernible way towards the temple. The smoke was choking their lungs, making Baelar’s thoughts hazy as he looked around frantically for some kind of salvation.

“Elune please,” He whispered, arms howling in pain but all he could do was clutch the sobbing child against his chest. She was heaving, pulling more and more smoke into her small lungs, and soon her frail body began to sag. She was losing consciousness, and Baelar would be damned if she died in his arms. He would be damned to the Nightmare before he let that happen. “Please...help us...please oh Goddess...please...”

His legs were shaking, knees buckling as the overheated armor bit into his skin. The burns at his arms wailed in mind numbing pain, and though he pushed himself forward, there was nowhere for them to go.

They were trapped.

Baelar felt his knees sag, giving way and pitching him forward onto his hands, the child nearly lifeless against his chest. “No...no...no no...” He whispered, head swimming. “Please...Elune please...save her...at least save her...”

The screech of a hippogryph overhead registered in his fading mind, body sagging and getting heavier and heavier despite his will to keep going. Slowly, Baelar looked upwards, and through the embers, and the smoke, and the ash...dove a hippogryph.

“Lyrial...” He whispered, recognizing that bird anywhere. His beloved had sent he to find him, and not a moment too soon, she had succeeded.

With the last bit of strength he had, Baelar climbed into the saddle, and did his best to tie the child down to the reins. Should he pass out, and fall to his death, at least he could meet his Goddess, and say he saved one life on the day she abandoned them.

The last thing he could remember, was slumping forward over the great beasts neck, and the frantic beating of wings, and then it all went black.

------

(( I know I’m late to the party, but this was so painful and hard to write I pushed it off as long as I could. @daughter-of-ashenvale @blue-eyedraven and @tythis-dielturas for mentions. ))

#Baelar Maer'Anar #The Kaldorei Valarjar #War of Thorns #Battle for Azeroth #BFA #my writing #god damn it this was hard to write #this was so painful i cried

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baelar-maeranar · 6 years

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War of Thorns - War Doesn’t Change - Only the Enemy

Baelar and Inaara flew through Lor’Danel as if Elune had fired them from her moon touched bow.

They arrived with the rest of the Kaldorei Fleet, and while it was being assaulted by a few forward parties from the Horde, he had orders to meet with his Commander, and go from there. Commander Meyria Swiftfang was waiting for him by the Moonwell in the center of town, her druid robes sullied with sand about the edges, but her eyes were steeled and her jaw set. Before her was a small party of perhaps five men and woman: two Sentinel’s, another druid, a warrior, and scout. Good, they’d need a well rounded party if they were to make it to the front lines unhindered.

“Maer’Anar! There you are, by Elune we have waited long enough.” Swiftfang shouted, her tongue sharp and eyes sharper. She had barely managed to get his attention, his mounts hooves so swift that he had nearly made it out of the town before she even noticed him!

“Now that you are here, we can finally move out.” Her war saber was at the ready, pawing at the ground in agitation.

Inaara stopped atop the bridge, and pulled about face, her rider pushing her towards the center of town, and towards the little raiding party he’d been assigned too. “I am here, Commander. Let us waste no more time then.” Came the swift reply, eyes idly scanning the others around him and assessing their usefulness to this ride. They would do, he decided.

“We ride for Wildbend River, where a stalemate has kept most of our fighting forces occupied. However, the Horde are cunning, and have managed to send a few scouting parties further into the forest.” She turns her war saber towards the east, and points with a leather clad hand. “Scouts atop their Hippogryphs have identified a party moving along the coast, perhaps six strong. We are to intercept them at the ruins of Auberdine, and deal with them.” She looks her party over, and then gives a simple nod.

“We ride. Let us not allow these savages another step into our most sacred forests.”

They shot through the cobblestone path as if fire were lapping right at the heels of their mounts, the sound of their running beating like war drums in their ears. It was eerily quiet for the group as they pushed forward through the trees, the ruins of Mathystra passed by on their left, the wails of the spirits haunting their ears despite the countless attempts to put their souls at rest. The group had little time to think about it, as Auberdine - and what was left of it - was quickly on the horizon.

Baelar was first over the ridge that lead to the ruins - earth shattered and buildings broken - and though his commanding officer shouted at him not to advance without the group, that familiar haze was beginning to settle into his mind. It were as if a heavy fog cloud had descended upon his thoughts, making everything move at sluggish pace, and everything sounds as if it were a hundred miles away and drowning in a lake. His eyes hyper focused however, and his heart began to pump wildly in his chest as his jaw clenched so hard he feared his teeth may crack. Something terrible boiled in his blood, something he had been trying so hard to temper, and subdue:

Rage.

It roared through his veins like wildfire the moment he caught what appeared to be an Orc peon hacking away thoughtlessly at a tree near the fallen dock that used to house the hippogryph master. The Horde forward party had already made it here before them,but to Baelar, it meant little. The next thing he knew, Inaara was leaping over a fissure in the earth - a consequence of Deathwing’s violent ascent from Deepholm - and charging directly at the peon. Vaguely, Baelar thought he could hear talking, somewhere off to the peon’s left, and while he was hyper focused on the orc, out of the corner of his eye he caught flashes of gold and red - likely Sin’dorei - and heard their melodic language leave their lips with confusion that soon turned to frantic frenzy.

The weight of his ax rested securely in his palm, and though the shouts of the Sin’Dorei had alerted the peon, he tripped over his own two feet as he tried desperately to escape. With little ceremony, Baelar swung his ax with all his might, and the force of the impact struck the peon so hard in the upper shoulder, he was pulled off his feet and landed hard on his back with a thud. The meat of his collarbone had been ripped asunder, and though he screamed and writhed in pain upon the grass, the Sin’Dorei who had alerted him to the onslaught, were assailed by the warrior as quickly as the peon.

Inaara had pivoted quickly, reins pulled taunt as Baelar pulled her back around and run at full speed towards the two men who had built a small fire near the Peon as he chopped the wood. The slender, leather clad scout dodged the charging talbuk easily, the force of Baelar’s swing, and subsequent miss, catching the warrior off guard enough that he nearly slipped from the saddle as Inaara once again pivoted. All that did was surge the white hot fury that was already coursing through his veins. The other Sin’Dorei, clad in brilliant gold and scarlet armor, held aloft his shield as Baelar rushed forward atop his talbuk. He hardly even noticed the sounds of fighting behind him, he hardly noticed the shouts of his companions to return to the party for sheer numbers, because right here, and right now, all that mattered were these two Sin’Dorei - the rage would allow for nothing else.

The Sin’Dorei knight grit his teeth, sunk his heels into the earth, but he did not anticipate the sheer strength of a single elf. The bite of the ax sliced hard into the shield, and the sheer forward momentum of the Talbuk sent the poor knight sprawling, his shield thrown aside, and head dazed. He rolled onto his stomach, trying to get his bearings, and before he knew it, Inaara was running full speed ahead, and trampling him beneath powerful hooves. One down, now for the scout. Baelar pulled back on the reins, checking in on the knight to make sure he was properly dealt with, and scanned his eyes across the area to see if he could spy the other Sin’Dorei that had managed to slip away. The sounds of fighting rose over the ridge where the once proud Inn of Auberdine stood, and an orcish war horn rang above the din of steel, elvish war cries, and violence.

Baelar knew that the scout would reappear at some point, and decided to pull Inaara back over to the Inn. The two leaped over the rubble, but he didn’t return to the fight, at least not right away. Auberdine had been a once proud fishing village and he knew the in’s and outs of it fairly intimately before it was reduced to rubble and ash. So Inaara leapt onto the beach, and Baelar took her around the back of the inn, under the collapsed dock, and back around the other edge of the dilapidated building where the sounds of fighting were strongest. His small party was engaged in combat with the forward party: six horde in total. Mostly orcs, but with a Tauren and a few goblin, the party had its work cut out for it. However, without warning, and with a war cry so booming it were as if Elune had placed thunder his in lungs, Baelar crashed into the battle.

Chaos ensued.

Baelar pushed Inaara through the ranks of the three orcs, and the tauren, the wild swing of his ax catching one of the orc’s in his helmet, and sending sanguine blood spraying onto the dingy sand below. He was about the charge the tauren, when something...unexpected happened. In truth, Baelar should have been able to see this outcome coming, after all Tauren are known for two things: their gentle dispositions, and their strength. As Baelar spurred his talbuk forward, and towards the lumbering beast, the Tauren threw aside it’s shield and mace, and before the raging elf could even process what had happened, he was roughly acquainted with the ground. It had happened so quickly, so suddenly, that even once he got himself up off the ground, Baelar had a hard time realizing exactly what the tauren did. Until he saw him at least.

In a show of pure strength, and technique, the tauren had grabbed Inaara by the horns, and with a mighty heave, thrown her onto her side as if she were but a calf, about to be tied and branded.

Rage exploded in Baelar like a cannon had been fired. How could the Tauren side with the Banshee Queen? The bringer of plague, corruption, and undeath? Are the Tauren not their brothers and sisters in Nature? Do they not hear the whispers of the trees, and know the balance of the forest? How could they be here? How could they do this to the Kaldorei people? He grabbed his ax, and rushed at his enemy, who did not have enough time to both let Inaara go, and fumble for his weapons - so he had to choose. He let go of the Talbuk, right as Baelar made a wild, overhead strike, and while the ax cut into air, and dug into the earth, the elf used the momentum to use the ax shaft as support, and kick the tauren in the arm with such force it stumbled backwards. The tauren would be a worthy opponent, more so than the Sin’Dorei scout, or the Orc raiders, or the goblin creetins.

He did not give the tauren a chance to recover from the kick, and possibly grab his weapons, no. Baelar howled his war cry, and rushed at his opponent, axe at the ready for a mid level swing. The Tauren stood at the ready, brown eyes sharp and keen, and held his hands out, ready to grab, or strike. Baelar slid to a stop and swung his ax with such resounding force that when he missed - his entire body nearly spun around itself twice! Before he could catch his barings, the rage heavy and heady in his head, the Tauren grabbed him by the back of the breastplate, thick fingers digging into the soft flesh of his neck, and hefted him straight off his feet. With a bellow that could shake the trees, the Tauren slammed Baelar straight into the ground.

His ax fell from his hand, discarded into the sand, but neither one of them were done just yet. So dazed was the Kaldorei’s mind, that though he was swimming in his own rage, and rattled thoughts, he could hardly react when another hard slam sent his helmet flying, and his mind spinning. “Fuck…” Baelar snarled through the thick fog that clouded his mind. This would probably be it. However, as the Tauren moved to heft Baelar back up for another slam, the kaldorei had a thought.

He began to fumble with the straps of his breastplate. As the tauren lifted him up as high as it’s massive arm could, the final buckle gave way, and Baelar slipped from his armor like a snake shedding it’s skin. He landed with a grunt, and rolled to the left as the tauren smashed his chestplate into the ground with another resounding bellow. Once the dust settled, the Tauren blinked in surprise when he realized that while he had an elvish piece of armor in his hand...there was curiously no elf within it.

Baelar scrambled towards his ax, which had fallen into the sand a few feet away. If he could get his ax, he could get out of this situation. A bellowing war cry sounded above him, and with a hellish kind of second sight, Baelar knew what was coming for him. He he heard the clank of his armor hit the sand, and without thinking, the Kaldorei rolled, and the ground shook where he had once been. A glance caught sight of a massive hoof, stopped down into the earth, and before he could process it, he knew another blow was coming. Baelar rolled again, sand fluttering all around him, falling into his armor and down his sweat soaked shirt and sticking to his skin. Another earth quaking shock, as the Tauren brought his mace to sand as annoyance filled rage sent its bovine eyes bulging.

I need my fucking ax! Baelar snarled through the fog in his head, and while he had made no more headway towards it, he knew the Tauren had the advantage so long as he was on his back. His opponent had pulled his weapon, and seemed adamant to end this battle with crushing might, and without the protection of his chest plate, Baelar knew it would only take one hit to send him to Elune’s grand forests. He wouldn’t have time for the ax, he wouldn’t have time to think this fight through, so his tactics changed.

Baelar grabbed for his belt knife - small, short, one sided, meant for more menial tasks like cutting rope and chopping meat than seeing battle, but he knew the behemoth before him would not allow the elf purchase enough to get his weapon. He would have to get up close, and while that was a danger in itself, it was the only option he had. Sand caked fingers gripped the bone handle tightly, and after rolling past another resounding strike from the mace, Baelar scrambled to his feet.

He held the knife defensively, arm horizontal to his chest, blade at the ready, and coiled like a snake ready to strike, he watched his opponent carefully. Silence filtered between them, no words, no movements, just two opponents reading the other as best they could. Baelar moves first, circling to the left, and the Tauren moved right, the two palming their weapons and waiting. Now it was a duel, and while Baelar did not share the same sentiments of honor and glory as the Tauren and the Orcs, he could appreciate a battle of equals. This is where he made his stand, on the broken shores of Auberdine.

The Tauren moved first, bellowing yet again, and going for a sideways sweep of his massive totem-Esque mace. Baelar dodged back half a step, rolling back on his heels as the swipe grazed past his stomach, the force of the swing tickling the delicate hairs there. Now overextended, Baelar took his opportunity.

He rocked forward, one hand reaching out to grab hold of one of the Tauren’s massive horns, and with a bellow war cry all his own sunk his knife into the soft flesh beneath the Tauren’s jaw with a sickening squelch. The behemoth gurgled, his shoulders rigid, eyes wide, as blood trickled down the knife, and soaked the Kaldorei’s knuckles and forearm as it dripped onto the sand. The two stood still for a long moment, quiet and merely gazing at the one another, until the other’s shoulders began to sag.

“Andu-falah-dor, delar,” The words slipped from his lips before he could realize he was saying them. The Tauren have always been their stalwart defenders of Nature, standing side by side in the dream, and against the corruption to protect Elune’s sacred places. The death of one at his hands brought the Elf no pride, no glory, only sorrow. This was not a battle to be proud of, it was not a war that was just, or right, or worthy of these two ancient and respected people. His heart broke for the way the Tauren looked at him then, eye’s resigned to the weakening of it’s limbs as it’s life blood spilled from the severed artery of its neck.

“Owachi,” The Tauren whispered, it’s eyes growing heavy as its legs began to tremble, it’s weight too great to be supported any longer. “Nechi ich towateke ki hale chi. Pawene ichnee pawene…”

Baelar closed his eyes for a quiet moment, and though the two did not understand the other, warriors knew when they had won, or lost. In order to not prolong his suffering anymore than necessary, Baelar pulled the blade towards the left, the sinew and muscle giving way as more blood poured down the Tauren’s chest and armor. Once the blade was free, Baelar let the bull down, where he fell, and gazed up at the smog covered sky above them. He whispered more words in his native language, which sounded more like a prayer than curses, and then slowly slipped into the darkness as his eyes closed.

There was no time to lament this needless death, to take a moment to mourn a fellow warrior in battle, or to feel the sorrow that such pointless violence can rent on the soul.

A horn sounded over the distance, cut through the trees, and rose above the smog. While the war horns of the Kaldorei were few, but varied in use, there was no denying this one:

They were to retreat.

The Horde had broken through the stalemate. Lor’Danel was in danger.

#Baelar Maer'Anar #The Kaldorei Valarjar #War of Thorns #My writing #sorry this got so freakin' long #it was hard to write

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baelar-maeranar · 6 years

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Interview With the Valarjar

a1. What is your name?

“Baelar, though most people call me B.”

2. What is your real name?

“Baelar Maer’Anar-Lunarsong”

3. Do you know why you were called that?

“My Father named me after his grandfather - a Druid of the Claw. He was convinced that a strong name would lead to a strong son.” A chuckle. “He wasn’t wrong.“

4. Are you single or taken?

“I was just recently married.”

5. Have any abilities or powers?

"My father was a skilled Druid, and my mother a Huntress - however Elune did not see fit to bless me with magical capabilities, and instead made me useful in other, more menial tasks - such as building, and fighting.”

6. Stop being a Mary Sue.

”Once I was stationed with a woman named Mary Sue - out in Draenor. She was from Westfall, and very sweet. She had a thick accent, and often made fun of me because I could not understand her.“ A thoughtful pause. “I do not recall what happened to her, after we moved on from that camp. I wonder if she is well.” 7. What’s your eye color?

“It is said that children blessed with golden eyes are destined for greatness - when it comes to magical abilities. I was never blessed as such - so mine are merely silver.”

8. How about your hair color?

“I was blessed with my mothers dark blue hair - though it’s lighter with this cut.”

9. Have you any family members?

“Sadly no. Father went into a deep slumber, after the War of the Satyr, and never awoke - but we never knew why. I have always felt that he fell to the Nightmare, but my Mother never believed that. Mother, however, passed when the Cataclysm ravaged Hyjal. ”

10. Oh? What about pets?

Baelar chuckles lightly, “I would not call them ‘pets’ but Lyrial has Ahnvae - her war saber, and we have both been watching over Ishte, and Rakir. Ishte is a saber, bred and raised in Winterspring, and Rakir is a lamed lion who was saved by our good friend, Tythis Diel’turas. He has fallen ill recently, so we have taken the two in.”

11. That’s cool I guess, now tell me about something you don’t like.

“How the Horde continues to sully my sacred forests with their dishonorable hands. They have sliced down too many of our sacred trees, and have corrupted our lands with their Banshee Queen’s blight. I am saddened, but angry, that so many good men and woman could have stood by while innocents burned in Teldrassil. I am angry, and sad that those men and woman still fight beneath a banner that bares the blood of children and inno-” Baelar seems to realize he’s going on a bit of a rant, and getting passionate. He sucks in a breath, and clears his throat, letting his statements end.

12. Do you have any hobbies/activities you like doing?

The change of subject is welcomed. “I have always loved carpentry, and building. I have always enjoyed the simplicity of the labor, and have found purpose in such tasks. I also enjoy to whittle if I do have have my tools, and cannot do anything more complex when I come upon drift wood near the rivers.“

13. Ever hurt anyone before?

“I have, yes.”

14. Ever… killed anyone before?

“War makes killers of us all.”

15. What kind of animal are you?

“Truthfully, I do not know. You would have to ask Lyrial. Though, a few times she has compared me to a wolf in the forest - but I have always felt myself more like a stag.”

16. Name your worst habits.

“I have picked up a few bad habits from my time traveling with Humans and Dwarves in Draenor. Drinking is the worst of them - and to my shame I am quite the light weight.“

17. Do you look up to anyone at all?

"My beloved, Lyrial.” His smile is gentle, and his eyes soften. “She has always made me strive to be a better man. She is stalwart in her convictions, loving, kind, and compassionate. She is fierce when it is needed, and has always had a closeness with Elune and the forest that I simply envy.”

18. Gay, straight, or bisexual?

“I am helplessly in love with my Lyrial.”

19. Do you go to school?

“I attended a few Druidic classes when I was a child, but once it was realized that I didn’t have a single magic hair upon my head, they dismissed me to learn other skills. I learned saber riding, combat techniques, and built upon my carpentry skills. I merely fell into my life path as a Guardian of Hyjal, but it has given me purpose.”

20. Do you ever want to marry and have kids one day?

“I wanted to marry Lyrial the moment I was reunited with her in Val’Sharah. We have spoken of baring children into the world, but we both knew that we could not bring a new life into this world while it was at war. However, we have been blessed with taking guardianship over an orphan of Teldrassil. She is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and proves that though the fires brings destruction, life can bloom anew from the ashes. ”

21. Do you have any fanboys/fangirls?

“What does that mean? Is that a human expression I have not heard of?”

22. What are you most afraid of?

"Losing my most beloved, or any harm coming to my little Saelyn’dia.”

23. What do you usually wear?

"if I am not within my combat armor, I am usually within simple linen trousers and shirts.”

24. Do you love someone?

“I did marry her, after all.”

25. When was the last time you wet yourself?

“Probably when I was a child. Though, I couldn’t really tell you.”

26. Well, it’s not over yet!

“Continue then.”

27. What class are you? (High class, middle class, low class)

"I have always been of the working - or warrior class. That is what Elune allotted to me, and I thank her for the blessings she has given me every day.”

28. How many friends do you have?

"I have a few very close friends, whom I adore with all of my heart.”

29. What are your thoughts on pie?

"I have been told that I make a very delicious peach cobbler.”

30. Favorite drink?

“Honey wine brewed by the Valarjar.”

31. What’s your favorite place?

“Curled up by the fire, with Lyrial and Saelyn’dia wrapped up in my arms, while Lyrial reads her a story. She is such a curious child...she will grow to be the smartest woman I’ll ever know.”

32. Are you interested in someone?

“Well, I am married to her, so I would say I am, yes.”

33. What’s your bra cup size and/or how big is your willy?

A shit eating grin is the only answer you get.

34. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

“I have never liked the ocean - due to the Naga invasions upon the shores of Ashenvale. So I would much prefer lakes.”

35. What’s your type?

“Strong, compassionate, funny, smart, fierce, loving, goofy, adorable, and so so much more.”

36. Any fetishes?

“I was once given a fetish by a friendly Furblog in Darkshore. He was a kind, and gentle bear, and I would often visit him on my way to Ashenvale and drop off a few bits of dried foods. He repaid me with a leather, and feather bound fetish which hangs in my home.” A brief pause, “Do you have any?”

37. Seme or uke? Top or Bottom? Dominant or Submissive?

“You must ask my most beloved, but if I were to be honest: I would say I am both.“

38. Camping or indoors?

"I prefer to sleep indoors, in all honesty. I have spent too much time on the road, sleeping in cots, and beneath poorly constructed tents. I much prefer four walls, a roof, and a bed.”

39. Are you wanting the interview to end?

“I truly do not mind answering questi--”

40. Now it’s over! Tag 3 people I will tag as many as I want.

Tagged by: @drustvar-dragonfly

Tagging: @daughter-of-ashenvale @wardennerd @nesuna-nightwinter @celassa

#Baelar Maer'Anar #RP stuff #Meme's n shit #writing and stuff

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baelar-maeranar · 6 years

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Meeting the Valarjar ~

► Name ➔ “Baelar Maer’Anar. Or just B, if it’s easier.” ► Are you single ➔ “I actually just recently got married to the most beautiful creature Elune had ever made. My beautiful Lyrial.” ( @daughter-of-ashenvale ) ► Are you happy ➔ “More than I ever have been.” ► Are you angry? ➔ “Elune gifts everyone of her children with burdens. Anger happens to be mine. While I cannot pinpoint anything specifically I am angry at, there is always a fire burning deep in my stomach.” ► Are your parents still married ➔ “No. Mother and Father were both killed in the Cataclysm, when Hyjal was besieged by Ragnaros and his cultists.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “Hyjal, to my great pride.” ► Hair Color ➔ Baelar’s hair is one of the most curious parts of him. It’s a strange cut for a proud Kaldorei man, with the sides and back shaven close to the skull, while the very top is left long, and tied into a small tail with a leather chord. It’s a blue color so deep it nearly looks black at a distance. ► Eye Color ➔ “Silver. Magic did not run heavy in my family.” ► Birthday ➔ “April 10th.” ► Mood ➔ “Helplessly, and wonderfully in love.” ► Gender ➔ “Male” ► Summer or winter ➔ “Winter. Curling up by the fire with my beloved is one of my favorite hobbies.” ► Morning or afternoon ➔ “Neither. I prefer the evening.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ “So much so my heart may very well burst.” ► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “The moment I saw Lyrial there in Darnassus, I knew I was in love with her. There was just something about her, that immediately drew me to her, and I was head over heels when she smiled at me. So yes, I do.” ► Who ended your last relationship ➔ “The Alliance. Lyrial and I were separated due to our conflicting roles during the War on Draenor. She was sent on secluded scouting missions, while I was often on the front lines of most major skirmishes. We lost contact for three long years.” ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “While it was never intentional, Lyrial’s heart broke on Draenor to my great shame, when she thought I had perished in a battle in Gorgorand.” ► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “No. Lyrial is the greatest commitment I have ever made, and I would make it again, and again, in this life, and the next.” ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “I hugged Ishte, and Ahnvae this morning.” ► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “No. I made sure that Lyrial knew I loved her, boldly and without shame. I do not believe one should ever hide their intentions when they are drawn to someone - it often comes off the wrong way, and usually ends poorly.” ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Every moment I was away from Lyrial on Draenor, my heart broke, but it was my own fault, as I could not bring myself to ever truly try to find her - for fear of rejection.”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “Love.” ► Cats or Dogs ➔ “Cats, specifically sabers. Lyrial and I have quite the menagerie in our honeymoon sweet. Three giant sabers, and one stunted Lion makes for...interesting days.” He chuckles with a smile.

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “A few best friends.”

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Romantic night in, always.” ► Day or night ➔ “Night. The harsh sun of the day has never set well with my eyes. I prefer Elune’s soft moonlight.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “When I was a child, I would sneak out often, so I could watch the Sentinel’s train. Mother always would scold me, because Hyjal is a dangerous forest, and we lived on the outskirts of town. She could never quite keep me inside though.” ► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “A time or two. It is often because I am visiting a place of human, or dwarven make, where it is simply not built for someone so tall. Usually I misjudge the length of the steps, and wind up ass over tea kettle.” ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “For three painfully long years.” ► Wanted to disappear ➔ “Never. Fight with honor, and bravery, in all things in your life. Disappearing is cowardice, and Elune only welcomes the strong into her paradise.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ “Both.” ► Shorter or Taller ➔ “The taller the better.” ► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ “Intelligence. There is nothing like a sharp wit, and an even sharper tongue.” ► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “Relationship. It is foolish to think that a single night of passion will cure your heartache, or loneliness. It will only make it stronger, and you risk succumbing to the darkness. Stay strong, and find a love worth putting yourself into, and you will never be lonely again.”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “Yes. My father was a proud Druid of the Claw, and my mother a skilled Sentinel. They were helplessly in love with each other, though their opinions on marital roles never quite set well with me. However, they loved and cherished me, and always pushed me to do my best.” ► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “No, I would never say that. I had a loving family, and a wonderful childhood.” ► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “‘No, though I was prone to sneaking out for a few evenings so I could meet up with my friends, and practice our martial arts, or watch the Sentinel’s train.” ► Have you ever been kicked out ➔ “Father almost kicked me from the home when I told him I wasn’t going to follow in his footsteps and become a Druid of the Claw.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “Then why would I call them friends? That’s a foolish thing to do, hate your friends.” ► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “Yes. I love them very dearly.” ► Who is your best friend ➔ “Lyrial - though Haelga is a close second. That surly dwarf has always had a knack for making me laugh so hard my stomach hurts.” ► Who knows everything about you ➔ “Lyrial. I have never kept a secret from her, and I never will. She is my life mate, my beloved, my wife. She knows everything there is to know about me, and she always will.”

tagged by: @dae-shadowvale

tagging: Anyone who would like to do this!

#Baelar Maer'Anar #The Kaldorei Valarjar

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baelar-maeranar · 7 years

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~ Layers ~ The Kaldorei Valarjar

LAYER ONE : THE OUTSIDE

Name: Baelar Maer’Anar

Eye Color: Bright Silver - with a hint of blue

Hair Style/Color: Deep midnight blue, so dark it’s nearly black. Cut and styled with the sides and the back shaven close to the skull, with the top left to do as it pleases.

Height: 6′7

Clothing Aesthetic: Simple tunics and trews, when not in his armor. Usually seen in deep blues, purples, or greens, with trims of gold or silver.

Best Physical Feature: “If you were to ask me? I’d say nothing. However, I do know that my huntress, is partial of my tattoos.”

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Your Fears: “Losing the people I love, and being lost in the rage in my heart, and not being taken to Elune’s grace.”

Your Guilty Pleasures: “Valarjar mead, and every now and then a good pipe full of this tobacco mix a friend of mine has offered me - which usually helps me relax..”

Your Biggest Pet Peeve: “Humans who think it is adorable to ask me ‘how is the weather up there’? Whenever they see me.”

Your Ambitions for the Future: “I want to take my huntress away from this war torn land. I want to build us a sanctuary and a home far away in the forests of our homeland, and finally know peace.”

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

Your First Thoughts Waking Up: “Not getting up…”

What You Think About the Most: “Lately? Things I’d rather not speak of, if you do not mind. I often do not share much of my personal life.”

Last Thoughts Before Bed: “May the stars whisper how much I love you, as you lay your head to rest.“

What Do You Think Your Best Quality Is: “My tenacity.”

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER?

Single or Group Dates: “Single.”

To be Loved or Respected: “Loved.”

Beauty or Brains: “Brains.”

Dogs or Cats: “Cats, specifically sabers.”

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: “White lies to ease tensions with my compatriots.”

Believe in Yourself: “No.”

Believe in Love: “There was a time I didn’t. Now? I can’t believe I doubted it.”

Want Someone: “Every moment of every day.”

LAYER SIX: EVER?

Been on Stage: “Never”

Done Drugs: “Yes.”

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: “As I had to to survive.“

LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES

Favorite Colors: “Blues, purples, greens, and silvers.”

Favorite Animal: “Inaara, my talbuk, holds a special place in my heart.”

Favorite Movie: OOC: I think Baelar would love westerns, and thrillers.

Favorite Book: “A Song of Ice and Fire - A Game of Thrones”

Favorite Game: “I don’t often play games, however, the others at the war camp have enjoyed knife throwing - and I am currently the reigning champion.”

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

Day Your Next Birthday Will Be: “I believe the humans have named the month ‘April’ and the date is the tenth.”

How Old Will You Be: “Not as old as Faeindal.*”

Age You Lost Your Virginity: “I was young, and she was my commander. I had no choice.”

Does Age Matter: “Age is not something my people think about it. Truthfully, I do not think it matters.” A pause, “However, I think it matters when my people fall in love with the younger races - heartbreak of losing someone to age is a hard one to handle.”

LAYER NINE: IN A BOY OR GIRL

Best Personality Traits: “Honest, fierce, independent, and compassionate.”

Best Eye Color: “Does not matter to me.”

Best Hair Color: “I am partial to silver, if I am being honest.”

Best thing to do with a Partner: “Raise an unruly feathermane cub.”

LAYER TEN: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: “… my Huntress.“

I feel: “… lonely.”

I hide: “… the rage and the sorrow within me.“

I miss: “… Ahnvae, and Tiuvae.”

I wish: “… see her again.“

Tagged by: @dae-shadowvale

#Baelar Maer'Anar #Kaldorei Valarjar #meeeeeeme thing

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baelar-maeranar · 4 years

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Aesthetics

Bold for always, italicize for sometimes, strike-through for never (or N/A)

FLOWERS

DAISY : wears their heart on their sleeve. soft voice. minimalist clothing. laying in a field of tall grass. walking barefoot. puts other people’s happiness above their own.

BELLFLOWER : very consistent friend. happy face with sad eyes. careful touches. hiding a blush. light giggles. makes friends easily. knows how to make you smile.

PROTEA : proud. big gestures. African heritage. blushes easily. tries to look tough but is really just a big softie. content where they are. doesn’t love easily, but always deeply.

MOONFLOWER : knowing smiles. doesn’t open up easily. late nights. tired eyes. soft skin. not as innocent as they seem. loose clothing.

BLEEDING HEART : hopeless romantic. still laughs at dirty jokes. believes they can change the world. caring looks. dyed hair (wigs). kisses on the cheek.

SUNFLOWER : big smiles. always looking for the positive. lots of friends (of varying uses/necessity). warm afternoons. basking in the sun. stares off into space a lot. sitting in comfortable silence.

DANDELION : wishing for the impossible. shooting stars. light breezes through their hair. white clothing. whispered secrets. far off looks. kind eyes.

WEATHER

𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙉 - melancholy at best, introspective, severely misunderstood, pleasure in the subdued, helping in your own way, dreams in poetry, the slowness of falling asleep, refreshing meditation

S𝙐𝙉 - sun-bleached clothes, futures that are too bright, everything at arm’s length, balancing intensity, blind encouragement, comfort of sleep, distracting sunspots in your vision, necessity of growth

S𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙈 - chaos with a purpose, emotions running high, natural comfortable anarchy, high volume, leaving your mark, brief flashes of violence, rambling quickly, the intensity of desire

W𝙄𝙉𝘿 - running towards instead of away, instinctive motivation, making an impact, knows everyone who knows anyone, playful pranks, mood swings in a split second, collecting old trinkets, uncontrollable focus

S𝙉𝙊𝙒 - serene on the surface, cold-blooded heart, love it or hate it attitude, good memories, heavy discussions, sharp determination, relentless resolve, not as scary as it seems

GREEK MYTHOLOGY

EROS: scornful jealousy • pink • presents a certain decorum • heavy air in a nightclub • has a tattoo they regret • sex & love therapist for their friends • juvenescent • uses enchantments • aloof • wears rose-coloured glasses • velvet, latex, & lingerie • milk baths with champagne bubbles • impetuous in love • intense eye contact is a sport • kinky • soft lips • wears stacked rings • sets fashion trends • graceful movements • marble floors • heavy perfume or cologne • deeply emotional • born glamorous

HECATE: prefers canine companions • wears symbolic jewelry • can see spirits • melting wax • uses hexes • feels most comfortable at night • smell of cinnamon • moonlight • red wine • understands poisons & herbs • collects bones or feathers • partakes in rituals • black • fog at night • is aware of their shadow self • embraces the unknown • enjoys collecting secrets • approves of necromancy • meditates • has prophetic dreams • lace • knowing too many secrets • fishnet stockings

PAN: enjoys poetry & prose • wool • smell of decaying leaves in autumn • prefers to be barefoot • tends to overindulge • easily excitable • thriving in social circles • loves being around campfire • antlers • dirt paths • the sound of wind chimes • penchant for sticky fingers • pine trees • stamina for days • falls in lust • vagabond • physically stronger than given credit for • foxglove • welcomes luxury • non-confrontational • charming words • talking to animals • nature for jewelry

NEMESIS: angry • protective of their values • balance & harmony • looks like an angel but isn’t • more perceptive than people realize • snow capped mountains • grey • wears leather • silver jewelry • likes snakes • can’t stand ignorance • believes in retribution • analytical of own emotions • well read • marble columns • has very rigid morals • bruised knuckles • humorous under the sarcasm • clean workspace • everything in moderation • cold morning air • resting glare face • fluent in curse words

HYPNOS: very calm demeanor • easily overwhelmed • relaxing is their vice • transactional friendships • has a soft voice • head in the clouds • carries drugs with them • has a sibling they’re close with • drawn to winged animals • lavender • has plush furniture/blankets • starry eyed • horrible money management • gives amazing hugs • dreaming big as a full time job • wears comfy or loose clothes • existential questions • not good at memory based skills • fairy lights • can’t sleep somewhere unfamiliar • crystalline chandeliers • dislikes bright sun • fluttering eyelashes

IRIS: life’s a technicolor spectrum • has a lot to say • beaming smiles • always has candy with them • flirting by accident • walking to the beat of their own drum • gossamer curtains • has a surprising amount of connections • blushes very easily • confident laughter • uses a staff • fresh fruit slices • decorated handwritten letters • a social chameleon • blood made of honey • treating people with kindness • sentimental heart • vases full of wildflowers • feels fulfilled when helping others • has a healing aura • always traveling • stained glass windows • just trying to be a good person

Tagged by: @daughter-of-ashenvale

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this! Its a lot of fun!

#Baelar Maer'Anar #Aesthetics #tag meme

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baelar-maeranar · 6 years

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Tarot Card - Kaldorei Valarjar

Quiz Here

You got: Death

You can be a bit intense and find yourself drawn to dark and mysterious things. You’ve been through a lot and have probably seen your fair share of endings, but probably cope with it through humor. On top of that, you are surprisingly easygoing — you’re open to change, try not to let past baggage weigh you down, and seek out new experiences.

Tagged by: No one! This is fun and I’ve done it on my other toons :)

Tagging: @dae-shadowvale and anyone who wants to do this!

#baelar maer'anar #kaldorei valarjar #this was fun!

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baelar-maeranar · 4 years

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Tea Type - the Valarjar

Hibiscus Tea

You’re a *lot*. But that’s not a bad thing! You’re unafraid to take up space and make your voice heard. You love being the center of attention and are willing to cause a scene to swivel the spotlight toward you. You’ve got a sharp tongue (you’ve probably been called sassy at least once in your life) and you can use that for good or evil. Your tartness might not be for everyone, but those who get you love your larger-than-life presence.

Tagged by: @dae-shadowvale

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this!

#Baelar Maer'Anar #tagged #answered #character development

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baelar-maeranar · 6 years

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~ What Type of Doughnut: The Kaldorei Valarjar ~

Chocolate Sprinkles~! A staple, delicious yet simple, something that’s always in a box of a dozen. Nothing too fancy, but always a steady go-to when there’s too many choices.

Tagged by: @dae-shadowvale

Tagging: @blue-eyedraven, and @daughter-of-ashenvale

#Baelar Maer'Anar #The Kaldorei Valarjar #Fun stuff!

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baelar-maeranar · 6 years

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War of Thorns - Pt 1: War Horns

The port at Rut’theran was packed, with Sentinels, Druids, and Priestesses securing their hippogyphs and taking flight. Commanders, Captains, and anyone with a higher rank, were shouting orders and organizing units, and confusion laced with something darker, and heavier settled on the Warrior the moment he stepped off the boat.

A woman approached him, clad in thick steel armor, her face stern and tired, but she’s steeled and jaw set. She walked with purpose, and stopped at the side of his talbuk with the thump of her boots against the wooden dock.

“Maer’Anar, there you are.” She greeted, barely casting a glance at Riley. “We have been searching for you. The Horde marches through Ashenvale, and Astranaar has fallen. They seek to pass through Darkshore, and I do not intend to let that happen.”

She then held a scroll out to him, which was snatched and unfurled with an urgency that would startle any lesser woman.“Lyrial has been called to the front, she fights there and awaits orders. She has left one companion, Teiuve, and word of her love for you. However you will be stationed at the front, and I expect you there as soon as you are ready.”

A pause, a glance to Riley, then back to Baelar. “Leave no Quarter. I do not want these savages to take another step into our forest, do you understand?”

“Yes Commander.” Came the quick reply, his entire body tensing beneath Riley’s arms despite the armor he wore.

“Good. You are to rendezvous with Captain Swiftfang in Lor’Danel and March to the front lines within the next two hours. Elune Adore.”

“Elune Adore commander. May she give me strength to see this through.”

The conversation ended, and not a moment later, Inaara was galloping through Rut’theran, and through the portal that ferried them to Darnassus. They flew like the wind was at their back, and the eerie silence as the information processed was heavy like a shroud.

“Riley,” Baelar began as he took Inaara through a few roads, then off towards the homes tucked away into the city.“Remember this path well. Do not forget it. You are to go to the Temple, and retrieve Tythis. I do not care what condition he is in, or how you get him. Get him, Rakir, and Ishte, and come back to this house. Stay here. Wait for Lyrial or I to arrive. Do you understand?”

They stopped outside a small home carved into the trunk of a tree, and before Inaara even stopped, Baelar was leaping from the saddle and pushing the door open. The massive Tigress met him, frantic and confused, but he pushed past her. Not a few moments later, he reemerged, fully armored, his ax and helm clutched in an iron bound grip as he handed a satchel to Riley.

“Those are all the things Lyrial and I kept of his. Perhaps they will help you.” A war horn sounded in the distance, and a curse escaped the Valarjar.

“Go. Go and get him. See him safe. See him secured. We will return to you, Elune willing.” A pause then. “If you do not hear word in a weeks time, take him and evacuate the city. Do you understand?” He looked up at Riley, atop his beloved Talbuk, with the intensity of a raging wildfire.

So much had happened so quickly, but one thing was certain: there was be few, if any guards about Tythis’ cell, as by the look of the city? All Sentinels and fighting men and woman were being summoned to the front. War was upon them, but Riley was here for a reason, and Baelar would see it carried out.

"A week..." Riley nodded once, her face twisted into an expression of uncertainty, and intense focus.

"We should have a rendezvous point in place. Somewhere we can meet if this all goes tits-up, because I gotta be honest, big guy... between what we saw, and what we heard, it's not looking good."

Their eyes met, and in that moment, it was clear they were both painfully aware of what they were up against.

"Nighthaven. That's where we'll meet if our position here is compromised... The path through the mountains should be easy enough to navigate without having to go through the front lines."

Once more, Riley nodded, and extended her hand out towards her companion as she situated Tythis' pack on her shoulders and fixed him with a look he would recognize well from his experiences in battle.

"Fight well. I'll see you soon." The words were truthful enough, heartfelt to be sure, and sincere... but there was no mistake in the reasoning behind her choice to use them, for it was uncertain whether it would be in this life, or the next.

"Too risky. If Darkshore falls, who knows how you will move through the forest unseen." Baelar countered. "No. You must get yourself and him out of Kalimdor, that is the only safe passage if Darnassus becomes compromised, and if Elune willing, she will not." He took his helmet, and strapped it on, the slits cut into the helm glowing a fiery silver as he looked down at her. "Lyrial and I will send word for you at your shop should we make it out of this battle."

A pause, and his hand fell onto Riley's shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Fight bravely, Riley Flynn. I will see you both soon."

Without another moment of hesitation, Baelar took Inaara and the two flew as if Elune herself had fired them from her moon touched bow. They were gone before she knew it, and who knew what awaited them beyond this point, but Riley was tasked with something just as important as Baelar's orders, and the warrior knew she would see them through.

( @daughter-of-ashenvale @blue-eyedraven @tythis-dielturas all for mentions. Special shout out to @dae-shadowvale for the awesome lead in for this story! ))

#baelar maer'anar #kaldorei valarjar #war of thorns #current rp

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