#bronzeandsage

[bronzeandsage]

DWC 2024 - Day 4 - Surrender/Tranquil

"What?" Sevlaz whispered as he looked up at the elf from the burned floorboards of the Wayfarer's hold.

The elf blinked slowly and shook it's head smiling at the dying orc. "My apologies, sometimes I get languages mixed up. What I meant to say is, hello Sevlaz. And to add to that, how are you?"

Confusion was threatening to swallow the pain of dying as Sevlaz stared up at the crouching elf, well who was now leaning back to sit down with the ease of child coming to hear a tale. Knees drawn up and face peering down at him with a curious and calm demeanor that was maddening considering the deadly situation they found themselves in. Well what he thought was deadly as the whole room felt it had just stopped. The smoke no longer felt like it was choking at the coldness he had been drowning in was now just as much outside as it was inside. A hard swallow as he whispered his rough reply.

"Dying."

The elf nodded softly as he regarded the fallen thief with that unsettling calm. "I know. I know it is very unpleasant as well, but some things we cannot change. We have to let them work out."

Sev blinked again very slowly, feeling more tired by the second as they talked. He felt there were a lot of words he wanted to use, but his tongue kept swelling as he stared. Or maybe his breath was just having a hard time coming. Either way sleep sounded all the better.

"I won't make this long or drawn out, but I have come to you to present an opportunity if you're willing and wanting," he continued to feel the quiet around the pair, his head still tilted as he asked. "But I would very much understand as well if you refuse. Being is not easy."

"But can be fulfilling."

@daily-writing-challenge

The clay trough landed with a soft clatter of juice, meat, and sticks wafting with the scents of a complex mixture of herbs and spices. Steam mixed with tendrils of burning smoke clouded Sevlaz's face as he pulled his pipe aside to lean forward to inspect his mystery.

"Bon appleteeth as the main man would say," Erik proudly grinned with his teeth, his arms crossing over his small chest with oversized hands hanging loosely.

"The main man?"

"It's just a saying, tell me what you think!" Erik snapped back with a mixture of impatience and exuberance.

The orc would sigh and tap out his pipe in the dirt beneath them, his foot absently reaching down to rub out the embers with is toe before reaching to the stick that held a kaleidoscope of charred meat and vegetables. A short sniff and look over of the food gave him pause as he debated on where to begin. The vulpera on the other hand got a different impression.

"Quit staring and take a bite you coward!" Erik slammed his hands on the bar and leaned forward, golden eyes eager for vindication.

Sev in turn backed up quickly with a look of shock at the fox's aggression, grumbling out an 'alright alright' in response before bringing the food to task. Carefully biting on the end piece of meat and giving it a yank and chew, bits of juice splattering across his bare ruined gums and yellowed teeth. Watching an orc without an upper lip chew was as intimidating as it was unpleasant for those of sophisticated table manners.

Erik's little shop care for none of these things as he continued to watch his sole patron chew.

There was a slow chew as the hot meat burst and slathered his tongue in a mixture of herb riddled grease. The slow lasted a bit longer as he continued before the final heavy swallow and hand reaching up to wipe his mouth with a what would be considered a satisfied sigh. "Pretty good, needs some heat though. You got any of that sauce?"

Golden eyes narrowed as he looked to the orc and grabbed a small jar under the table to slam in front of his customer. "Here. Just ruin it!"

"What do you mean ruin it?" Sevlaz grumbled as he opened the jar and spooned the chunky red onion goop on the pepper and tomato on his stick.

"The flavors! You have the palette of a yak!" Erik waved his hands as he began to tidying up for the next time he'd have to make something. "Nom nom me hungy me eat good! Bah!"

The half eaten skewer would point at the vulpera as Sev countered back with a mouthful of spicy sauced vegetable. "Hey! Tha's uncal for and racist! It's good, just need a kick or four."

A clang of pan and tong as Erik continued to sound off. "Work work! Something need doing?!"

"Damn it Erik! I swear you don't quit it with that, I'm gonna ring you up by your tail!"

"By my tail? And that's not racist? You know what I say to that you fu-" Erik spun about brandishing his wok ladle like a sword as he leveled it at the greasy face of Sev. But his words came to a halt as he looked past the thief, his eyes widening into golden saucers.

Sev growled as he eyed the ladle, ready to parry with his own clash of obscene stereotypes and language. But he could definitely take the hint that something was not right in Dalaran behind him. The skewer lowered slowly to his trough as he kept his eyes level at Erik. "Trouble?"

A soft nod of the cook's head, eyes still trained on the growing shadows behind him.

"Like danger trouble or like arrest trouble?"

"Yes."

A deep breath was drawn in and let loose as Sevlaz slowly turned about on his stool to find the ominous shadow looming.

"Damn it."

[anunendinggaze]

NPC Face Claim: Angela Sarafyan

Louise Wincott The Broken Half

Clicking the lock into place, the willowy frame of Louise Wincott slowly sank to the floor of her room as the black dress spread out beneath her in a pool. Shoulders shaking and head bowed, her soft sobs wracked her entire body as he hands desperately clawed along her frame for somewhere to hold onto. The body might be strong, but the spirit was in tatters after the loss those few years ago.

The loss of all things truly.

It had been nearly four years since it happened. Four long years of suffering and sorrow as the loneliness boiled and tore at her from the inside at the loss of her other. The only one who understood or could do anything to quell the ache in her soul. She couldn't help herself as she whispered at the name again as every night.

"Mary."

Bleeding from the inside as the name struck her again and the thoughts burned through her again. How was she supposed to go on? Why should she go on? She should just join her right? Find Mary. Be with her again. Connect. Be whole.

Her thin arms would stretch wide as she wrapped them around her again rocking gently to herself as the voices in her head urged her on. Find her. Be with her. Be whole.

Be at peace.

"Oh Tides why? Why? Why did you let me do it?" She whispered again for what could lightly be called the 'millionth time'. Her eyes closed as she remembered it all so vividly.

He was going to burn her. They were all going to burn her. Send her on her way to the long shore beyond into the realm of the dead. Louise knew what waited there.

Nothing.

There was nothing. She couldn't let Mary go off alone. She wouldn't. She could help her. She could save her. Damned be the Fredman and the Drust. Damn the Inquisitors. Damn that Candell.

She would save her sister.

Her lips had moved with a voice she had not used since a child. Deep, husky, foreign. Frightening.

The flames were already beginning to lick the body, the cloth was on fire. Time was the essence. She had to get Mary out. She could get her out. She ran to the pyre.

Candell had screamed. Cheryl had run. Nubern watched.

She had grabbed Mary, burning and singed by the alchemists flames. They were spreading all over them. She could let it all go. Join her fully in the flames. But there was the most important reason she had to save Mary.

She didn't want to die.

The words flew forth, she pulled all the power she had. The veil was pierced, the flames were hot but lightless as they licked about them smothering her hands and arms. She didn't care. She just wanted Mary back.

Her chants billowed from her lips with the force of a hurricane as they coalescence to match the poetics of their strength. The Order would fall back, some calling for more fire and silver. Let them try.

Teeth bared. Primal and raw. The scream that tore from her chest, roared hot up from heart to throat to mouth. Ancient and terrible. Blood splattered.

And the screams began to match the smell of roasting flesh, for they were not alone. They were together. They were whole again.

But there was no peace.

Louise sat still, her strength now wasted as she found herself now lying on the floor. Eyes half-lided, mouth parted wordless in her unending sorrow as she tried not to think of the smoldering body of her sister. The beautiful hair burned to tatters. The ruined throat bubbling and scorched by the chemical flames of Cohaegen.

The worthless hoarse scream of the everliving.

@safrona-shadowsun

Mentions: @embersoftheorder @bronzeandsage

[captzexx]

Updated with some info for @bronzeandsage ! Been really enjoying the Horde side and making up some new characters for old characters.

2024: The Back 9

In the immortal words of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

I did this earlier in the year around…February? Yeah I believe it was then giving a general update to how the whole mental/spiritual fall apart was going (I refuse to call it a breakdown).

In two words, not good.

But there's always time to change and it's definitely not me putting an expiration date of myself just identifying that I may in a lot of trouble like I was a few years ago. I believed that losing weight, moving, dream job, and things going 'Milhouse' were going to fix so many things about me. It did not. And it will not.

Gotta keep going though. To many people are counting on me to be here and if I'm gonna be here I need to focus to get myself doing something. Anything.

So here we go with some basics and major updates to me:

Hi, I'm Zach or Capt Zexx or Mogwai Kraken depending on where we might talk. I'm an old man (40) with the aspirations of being something of a pulp adventure writer a 100 years too late. Being a standard millennial man swords, sorcery, metal, and nostalgia are all things I crave and love to follow but need to remember to temper as I'm not young as I was and definitely have a lot more responsibilities than I did when I first started this hobby of roleplaying. Sometimes I feel like the '84 years' meme when I think about how much of my online life has been pretending to be what I always wanted to be.

I'm deep into 'the Game' again. I'm actually playing. I'm itching to try and get with a group for writing/roleplaying. I'm terrified I'm gonna drop the ball and ruin another group of collaborators as I constantly seem to do. I don't mean to, it's just my brain and heart can't seem to hold hands long enough for us to make anything happen despite the lofty goals my brain sets.

We're gonna try though. I say this every time, but I gotta get up and do it again.

I have too.

So I've tried to rebuild/consolidate as I drag out the oldies with some newbies to try my hand in a bunch of different pots and see what sticks. No more closing blogs though, that really messed my brain up with losing stories and such when I got mad a few years ago. They belong in a museum for me to visit and library to be checked out once in awhile.

THE BLOGS The majority of these are all based out of the World of Warcraft. It's been my home for over 25 years, I can't get away as much as I might try. We're too entwined and I'm tired of fighting it, so I'm gonna embrace it and be comfortable in it.

Embers of the Order ( @embersoftheorder ) This is my main focus for protagonists for my writing and roleplaying. Can you guess who it involves? I can never get away from that wonderful Witcher inspired group of monster hunters from Kul Tiras, the Order of Embers. I love Drustvar so much and the head canon group I built up are always in the back of my mind when I listen to music or try to come up with something to write. But with the old faces like Eld or Cheryl, gonna try to bring some side characters to the front like Rachel or Beld or non-Ember members who can help like Ganus or Ramses. We'll see what happens but it's kind of nice having a heroic blog that I can store and play with them all.

An Unending Gaze ( @anunendinggaze ) As there is a light side of my roleplaying/writing there has to be a dark side. I've wanted for years to stretch my legs and limits to play more sinister types with a dark agenda or plans, but I guess I'm always more inherit-ably the good guy than a villain. But it doesn't mean I don't dream of firing the death star, forging the ring, or body hopping realities with an obsession for the Old Ones within the vastness of the Void. And I am leaning hard into that last one with Oplisca, my old cultist antagonist to my oldest character who I'm trying to mold into some kind of overarching monster. But I can't just have her as other characters have had their run-ins with so many villains. Alfred Klaudin the murderous zealot, the Fredman a roaming Drust serial killer, Kinowin the misplaced power hungry cultist, or Daesyd the money hungry architect. I'm working on them all and very willing to build more even those that aren't cultists or maniacs, the idea of a Light blinded soldier or a corrupted figure all come to mind. I need to work on it and would love if someone could help me or guide me with this menagerie.

Of Bronze and Sage ( @bronzeandsage ) Went ahead and made new blog for my Horde side life, it has been highly productive. I’ve leaned on a couple of old characters from my multiverse to create a base but I’m happy to report I’ve made up a few new ones to help round it out! Relying on my lack of knowledge to make it as much a journey of discovery as a refresh to playing and roleplaying. So join my orc thief Sevlaz as he learns what it is to be a ward of the Bronze and a champion of The Word. For the Horde.

QUIET PLACES A Crow Among Sparrows ( @acrowamongsparrows ) My Witcher OC work, which would be fun to go back into if someone were to poke or want to play around in. Take a peak and let me know what you think.

Conduit Dreams ( @conduitdreams ) Cyberpunk is always been a passion of mine and this was a place to put those neon lit inspirations away until that itch takes me again. Mecha, synths, rain, and dystopia make my heart beat faster.

With An Emerald Eye ( @withanemeraldeye ) Adventures in the pulp fantasy of swords, sorcery, and adventure. I love old Conan stories or Fafhrd and Gray Mouser tales of swords against devilry, I try to put it into my more higher fantasy stuff in Azeroth when I can but I would love to do more with low/weird fantasy stuff. Give me underground cults, jewel thefts, and brave people facing impossible odds. Plus kick ass art.

Sails on a Sea of Fate ( @sailsonaseaoffate ) My quiet retirement home for Zexx Candell and his brood in the astral sea lanes of Spelljammer. I love that setting and it seemed fitting after Shadowlands and the anger I felt when I left Blizzard before to go here with Treasure Planet inspired galleons coasting through the starry cosmos. D&D with Star Wars scope of conflicts, a simple description but I love the idea of it all and would love to touch it again.

Eldridge Candell ( @eldridgecandell ) The original blog for my main Eld Candell, Witch Hunter and Inquisitor of the Order of Embers. He's been transferred mainly over to the Ember of Orders blog, but I'll keep this live as an archive of his old adventures before these days in the War Within. It's a reminder of where I was those years ago and what I want to strive to be again.

THE FUTURE That sums it all up for the back half of 2024, it's not exactly brighter but I'm trying to avoid going darker personally. I want to make this work and get back in the habit of being creative. I need too.

If you wanna play, send me a message here and then we can switch to an alternate platform to collaborate. I'm available on the Discord, In-game, and the shiny new Blue Sky, just let me know where you're comfortable and interested in working.

Anyways, here's Wonderwall.

[bronzeandsage]

DWC 2024 - Day 6 - Crack/Positive

Pain struck sharp and clear as Sevlaz's eyes opened again, the sleepy groan coming more as a whisper than what it should have. It didn't sound like his voice at all as he blinked a few times looking into the face of the horned elf.

"Seven for Sevlaz is quite poetic and honestly, my last chance for you," the white bearded creature spoke, though there was more of an edge to his tone than he remembered. Everything felt so off.

The creature leaned forward, close enough to be mere inches from the orc's face as he spoke softly but with the force of a hurricane.

"Hell is repetition, Sevlaz. And I am sorry for making you have to live it over and over again. But I will not put this on you unless you truly want it," the creature spoke oddly and cryptically. "I have offered this to many before you and I will undoubtedly offer it again to many after. But you all will always have a choice. I want you to be a part of this. I feel you will be a great asset to our cause. You trained one of my greatest and I cannot imagine you would fail where they succeeded."

Golden eyes of sand and glass stared into dull red as he continued to speak quickly. "Join me. Help my cause. Help my lord. Hear the Word."

The Word. They made it sound like it was something important or something more than just, well a word. He was so tired. To sleep would be for the best. How much more could he do? And if this thing knew anything about him, why in the world would it think he would do the right thing? Sevlaz was a thief. A pirate. A traitor. A murderer.

A survivor.

"Sevlaz."

The red eyes peered up at him again.

"I don't want to influence you, but I don't want to lie to you either," the creature spoke softly again, this time bearing an edge of sincerity that belied the former edge. "You need to know."

"They live."

@daily-writing-challenge

Noell Gallina flicked a chunk of mango from the orc's shoulder with a mixture of disgust and amusement at the other's misfortune this morning. The blood elf was dressed as always in her patrol uniform bearing the tabard of her station within Orgrimmar but hints of her former past within Silvermoon City with the shield and sword of her homeland. The Horde were not one to forget one's heritage but asked to dwell on the future more so than one's past.

Easier said than done.

But try she must and so she was given this task by Quel'thalas command. When originally given the task it had felt more like exile in to the heart of those who had ruined her own and many other lives. She could still smell the burning vines from those years ago and could still see the soulless blue eyes of the fallen as her world was taken in fire. Orcs, trolls, and the dead. The world was strange.

"So you say you tripped into this stall Master....?" Noell spoke calmly, folding her arms across her chest as she took inventory of the orc.

He wasn't like most orcs. Of course he was green with red eyes as was standard to the dominate race of the Horde, but his manners and dress were more akin to her own people than the usual barbarian garb of his own. His size didn't say much either as he seemed a bit thinner and smaller than the grunts she butted heads with on patrol, but who knows what age really did to an orc judging by the grey hair on his face. And a face it was.

Burn scars crossed a majority of it with matching scars of undoubtedly violent means created an obvious tapestry of violence. The most obvious and gruesome of the bunch though was the missing flap of skin where his upper lip should be leaving behind a crude and unsettling grin of sorts. No one should smile all the time like that. The elf had to stifle the pang of sympathy for him as she waited for his answers.

"Sevlaz," the orc answered eyeing his shoulder where she'd flicked the broken mango from. "And yeah, tripped and rolled hard right into it. Lucky didn't break my leg or arm suppose. Wrist might be another matter."

Noell did her best not to match the roll of his hand to her eyes as she stared at him listening, her eyes moving from him to the damage and back. Never a dull moment in the capital as she looked back over her shoulder to her partner.

Nianani, a Zandalari soldier fresh off the boat, listened much like she was to the fruit vendor. Noell had figured she'd have better luck with the troll than she would. Bad blood had a habit of souring any story. The large woman was patiently listening and asking questions of the hunched Darkspear, red hair flaring and hands flying about to emphasis his losses. Gallina sighed and looked back to Sevlaz who was still muttering about old wounds and sprained bones or something. Clearly not a healer.

Or truthful.

"Alright, alright," Noell broke her arms free to raise them to Sevlaz. "I think you'll be alright but this mess is not going to be alright. I trust you can afford to pay for the damages?"

"Pay?" The orc stopped immediately at the mention of money. Figures.

"Yes, you are responsible for this and the damages will need to be covered."

"How much?"

"That would be between you two," Noell motioned to the vendor and then returned her violet eyes to Sevlaz. "As I said I trust you will cover the damages and remain civil in this dispute."

Steel entered the red eyes of the orc for a few moments, his ugly mouth set in what should have been a grimace only emphasised the lack of lips to the creature. Noell frowned back enough for them both.

Finally, he seemed to have broke and waved it off. "Yeah I got it."

"Good," the elf nodding as she leveled off her authoritative demeanor, which for some reason she had not noticed her hand leaving the pommel of her sword. Bad habits.

Dangerous habits.

"I'll leave you to it then," Noell turned away from Sevlaz, her eyes meeting that of her partners who nodded and spoke a bit more with the Darkspear. Hands were clasped, shoulders touched, and the Loa invoked. Light she wished should connect better here, but that was the life of an elf in the Horde. The enemy of my enemy is not always my friend.

Nianani stalked back up to Noell, her heavy sword resting on her shoulder as she looked over the shorter elf toward Sevlaz and back.

"Al'rite?" Her thick Zandalari accent sometimes hard to understand but Noell was learning.

Noell turned to look back as Sevlaz approached the Darkspear vendor, judging by the body language it would be a long conversation. She shook her head.

"For now," she spoke coolly. "I have bad feeling about that one."

"Ya say tha bout a lot of folk."

Noell shook her head, finding she did that a lot for herself as much as others. Bad habits died hard.

Bad feelings lead to dying hard.

[bronzeandsage]

Bronze & Sage

His wards were gone.

Coren forced himself to smile as he watched them fade beyond his sight and into the great Astral Sea. He would miss his wayward charge and the misadventures he had gotten himself into, the watcher felt he would miss even more so the offspring he had sworn to protect. The sunshine girl warmed his heart especially. But the time of mourning and being sad was long past or perhaps was yet to be, time was a fickle thing for him.

Time was never linear for those of the dragonflight, that was the hardest lesson to learn. A dark skinned hand would come to stroke at a feathered beard of his current visage, the same wayward eyes of emerald green searching the bluffs of Mulgore under a blue sky. Sand and sun were what his liege craved, but for a creature such as him change was what he craved. Always something different.

The same dark skinned hand would softly turn and thrust as sprig of power was used to summon a shifting orb. Coren's eyes would delve into those swirling sands, a soft delight rumbling in this chest at the idea of 'pondering his orb'. Least that's what he supposed was the way the people were these days.

These days.

How long had he been here? Or been this way? Was he a man? A dragon? A god? No. Coren was just Coren. A servant of the Bronze Dragonflight, a guardian of chosen, and a wanderer of the multiverse. The Word had spoken and here he was. Nothing more. Nothing less.

There was nothing to question.

His chosen was free now. Free of the cycle by their choice and his joy at the final gate passed just like his sorrow. Fleeting. Warm. Accepted.

It was time to find another. Or more. Or less. The Word would will as much as the sands shifting within the glass.

A burning ship. A broken son. A broken grin. A burning fury.

Familiar traits, familiar story, and one that could be focused if properly propelled. He'd done it once.

Why not again?

"Take me," a soft baritone slipped among peace.

A blue sky stretched far and wide carrying lazy white clouds and the wisp of hot breath mingled with dimming grains.

OOC:

Of Bronze and Sage is a roleplaying and writing repository for characters and stories of the Horde within the World of Warcraft. It is the third sister blog to a the Trio of blogs put together for a wide range of different concepts and ideas to be put together for. I've focused a lot on the Alliance side of things I felt like I'd been kind of ignoring the red side of things and pigeon holed a lot of the peoples as 'bad guys' in those writings. The Horde is as intriguing and varied as any monster hunting family with as many heroes as they have villains. The idea is to stretch those wings and learn more about this side of the world as well as interact with players/characters I haven't gotten a chance to really mingle with. So as before, if you'd like to interact, instruct, guide, or just say 'Hey!' to a bunch of green folks I'd love to collaborate.

Below you will find links to the basic information of the cast of characters for this blog. It's not as big as my Alliance brain is, but it's growing the more I look at building a proper group of old and new faces.

Dramatis Personae

Sevlaz - a misplaced orc thief brought out of the bowels of certain death to serve the Sands

Fenrag Onehand - the broken orc blademaster reforged as a new sword for the Horde only to search for a higher calling within the teachings of the Mist

Cahall Raincaller - a tauren disgraced, exiled, and alone the former Raincaller chieftain wanders Kalimdor wallowing in his failures to his lost tribe

Erik'red - a desert speaker and vagabond vulpera who is just as likely to win you with a smile as with their cooking

Qinhou - companion to Fenrag and fellow student of the Ways, though far more interested in helping the dead than the living

Mary Wincott - the fresh dead murdered by the Black Rainbow, untethered from her twin sister and reeling with psychic energies

Coren - Guardian of the Bronze Flight, traveler, former steward of the Candells, servant of the Word

More to come...

[bronzeandsage]

DWC 2024 - Day 3 - Morose/Strength

Fire and smoke were becoming all he knew as the tunnel vision continued to set in, so the idea of something coming out of the flames was both a surprise and terrifying concept. As far as the orc had been aware, he was all that was left to die on the sinking ship. Maybe luck was a lady tonight?

A tall figure passed through fire with ease, his robes not even singed in the least from the flames. As he drew closer the tunnel began to focus more on the person, especially as the shoulders widened and the face narrowed with a clean white beard.

Not a lady.

Skin of dark purple and ears far to large for the normal human's also stood out with soft glowing golden eyes. An elf. Not at all what he had hoped or expected. The thought of sighing in frustration could only be that as the sucking stab wound in his abdomen continued to bleed. Belly wounds truly were the worst.

Blinking once, the figure was 10 feet. Blinking twice, now what he assumed was five. Blinking again, but a few inches from him as he leaned down to regard him with a surprisingly calm and welcoming face. To further his lack of surprise, the voice carried the same gentle cadence expected of their face. But from the set of his jaw and intensity of his gaze there would be no lack of strength.

"Ishnu-alah, Sevlaz."

@daily-writing-challenge

The vulpera leaned over the counter of his cart to his most frequent customer, what he figured a welcoming smile reminded Sev too much of mischief yet to come. Stereotypes weren't applauded but couldn't be ignored.

"Biggrin," Sev replied finally as he eased himself onto a low stool to sit more eye level with Erik who raised his oversized hands in mock forgiveness.

"Sorry?" The fox replied with that same half open mouth that was supposed to be a smile.

The orc would adjust himself a bit on the stool as he answer. "It was Biggrin, that's what they used to call me."

"Oh well, that makes some kind of ironic sense as far as I've known you, the idea of you being happy seems kind of farfetched," came the chipper if not blunt reply as the vulpera busied himself with dicing some vegetables.

"As if you could tell, Erik."

Erik'red gave a guffaw of a laugh as he swept up the onion and tossed it into a bowl before grabbing another to chop. "I got a nose for these kind of things."

"You got a nose for sure."

The knife in the cook's hand tapped his cutting board as he let his toothy grin shut just as much as his eyes narrowed at Sev. "This how we're gonna be today? Cause if it is, you can just mosey on back the way you came."

Sev raised his hands in surrender to placate the shorter creature. "Alright alright, I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

"No, I am not," Sev replied quickly before resting his hands on the wood counter. "But I am the customer, and as they say I'm right."

"No, the customer is always an asshole, which we both know you are," Erik returned to his chopping with a heavy clops of his knife. Despite the antagonistic nature of the conversation, the vulpera's tone never jumped or followed the direction of the banter. People would joke about the optimistic views and attitude of the fox-folk, but in world of demons and giant swords the world could use a bit of optimism.

The thief would snort before reaching up to scratch at his whiskers and eye the steaming work behind Erik. "What's good today?"

"Well," Erik stopped chopping to look up in thought as he listed off his menu today. "Got eggs, an omelet, and a mystery dish."

"Mystery dish?"

"Coming right up!" Erik replied cheerfully as he turned to start into his makeshift kitchen and stove top.

"Wait! What I didn't order that!"

"Yes, you just did."

"It was question."

Erik would tilt his head slightly as he stared at the orc. "No that was a choice, so now you get it."

"But I don't even know what it is!"

The vulpera rolled his eyes and spoke over his shoulder as he went back to his cooking. "That's why it's a mystery. Some times, Sev. Some times."

The orc thief glowered before rubbing at his face as he did his best to guess what was coming and decided it best not to. His thick hand would reach into belt to pull out a faded blue wallet, unfolding it to reveal a cushioned clay pipe. Stem and bowl screwed gently together before digging into a side flap for some of the dried silverleaf he had been smoking since he came to that wretched swamp. He'd pinched some from a couple of footman that had been left into the muck after the Blackrocks had wasted them. An ugly mess with a supremely wonderful result.

"What you got to drink Erik?" Sev called over the flames and sizzle of what he assumed was meat, the stench of fish overpowering much else. The pipe put between his teeth before peeling a bit of wood from the counter to use as light from a hanging lantern, the silver smoke flowing up around his mangled green face as he watched the vulpera's back.

"Uh, I got water, the grog, and some troll sweat," Erik called over his shoulder again as he grabbed a couple of skewers and began to slide on the meat before tossing it back on the flames.

"Troll sweat?"

"It's not actual troll sweat," Erik replied as he wipes his oversized hands on his apron. "Least I'm pretty sure it's not."

The red eyes narrowed in a concern and confusion at the lack of assurance he felt from the fox's reply. "Give me the grog."

"You got it," came the quick reply as he reached under the counter for his pony keg. A click and heavy rush of liquid from below before the clay cup nestled gently on the top. "There ya go, the 'bobs' will be ready in a jiffy."

Sevlaz tried not to show his contempt of the phrase 'jiffy' before hanging his pipe a moment for a full pull of the warm amber drink, feeling the clay scrape his upper teeth and clicking his tongue a moment. "Not bad this time."

"I try only my best," Erik wiped his hands again in to his apron before eyeballing the frying supposed meat behind him, tail switching back and forth as he watched the fires lick it. "How ya want it?"

"How do you serve it?"

"Hot."

Sev sighed and took another long drink.

[bronzeandsage]

DWC 2024 - Day 5 - Captive/Skill

Everything was getting hazier by the moment as his vision focused in on the elf, the acting breathing was so tiring as he lay still under the eye of the watcher. There were a million and one questions running through his brain to ask, but the only one at the forefront was if he could just sleep. Sleeping sounded so nice at this point as grew stiller by the blink.

"I understand time is not something to really worry about, but I would like to insist on an answer sooner than later," the elf continued as he leaned closer into the orc's face. His skin was dark purple like a night elf's and the eyes the standard glowing yellow but there something far more otherworldly. There shouldn't be pupils. Sand. Swirling sand.

A smooth hand came to gently brush open his eyes again as he looked up at the elf who was smiling sadly as he was showing a hope in those eyes. "Sevlaz, it is time. Otherwise we will have to do this over again and I am loathe to do it again to you. Flowing is easier on you than it is to reverse it. Six times is far to many."

Six? Six times? How many times did he have to die?

"Six."

A soft nod given.

"Indeed my long suffering friend, hell is repetition and I do not wish you suffer in it any longer than you must. So please, could you give me an answer this time? You are chosen and I feel you best suited but I will not choose for you. Consent is key."

Consent. So tired.

Tired.

"Drat."

@daily-writing-challenge

How a 10 foot, half ton tauren could come up behind him without making a noise was something a marvel for Sevlaz as he looked up into the brindle faced male. Sheared horns, bronze nose ring, and one hard pale blue eye only addedto the intimidation the warrior of his arsenal as he stared back at the orc.

"Grin."

There was a heavy cough as Sevlaz cleared his throat and started to stand up. "Raincal-"

The thick three fingered hand caught him in the chest and with the ease of pushing over a child sat Sevlaz back on his stool. "Sit."

"Right, sure thing," Sevlaz answered as he noted how easily he was forced back down. "What can I-"

"Shutup."

"Alright."

The tauren leaden down to look him in the eye, his bearded jaw set firm as he spoke. "You know why I'm here."

"Uh, I would think an omelet or perhaps one of these kabobs. Erik could you fox- er fix up a stick or seven for..?" The thief was turning back toward the cook. Unceremoniously the above flap clattered down to seal off the cooking area of the vulpera's, the wood vibrating the painted on sad face with a word bubble 'Closed!' Sevlaz growled and faced the mercenary again. "Sorry looks like they're closed now."

"Pity," the deep baritone was short and hard as he never broke his gaze.

"Very much so, Cah. And I would guess you're here per An'wei."

The tauren mercenary, Cahall would nod curtly. "You'd be right."

"About the job?"

"Two for two."

"Well, I mean it's just taking me a bit to get an in and these things take time. Silvermoon isn't what it used to be," Sevlaz continued to press the conversation, his hands talking as much as he was. "My old contacts are either reformed, abroad, or well..."

"Dead."

"Exactly," the thief added as turned his permanent grin to to Cahall again. The tauren was not smiling. He never did.

There was a moment Sevlaz believed that was how the conversation was going to end, but that huge hand would reach forward and gently slip it's wrist thick fingers through the leather straps of Sev's vest. If he'd been shoved back into his seat like a newborn, he was lifted just the same like a kitten to dangle in the air at the tauren's eye level. There might have been an urge to kick out or struggle but knowing the warrior's reputation, it would have just ended a lot worse for him.

"Per the contract," Cahall growled softly as he drew the orc closer to his face. "You got one week to have it in the broker's hands. If not, I will be bringing back you back to them."

"One. Piece. At. A. Time." Each word was emphasized like a gong struck, no eye contact broken and inches only between the pair.

The thief cleared his throat again, the guttural gunk in his throat cleared and swallowed once again. "I'll do what I can."

"I'm sure." And the orc was lowered again to the ground. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? I mean it's fine, you're doing your job. It's what you do," Sev answered breathlessly as he found him counting his blessing to feel the dirt under his feet again. The warrior's grip was still tight about the straps on his chest as he heard the creak of the fist growing firmer.

There was a shake of Cahall's shaggy head. A grunt of effort matching the lift while the muscles flexed to propel the orc from the ground.

"Wait! Wait! WA-" Sevlaz started to yell as he felt the earth disappear beneath him again. Air was rushing in his ears as the eerie feeling of weightlessness took over to speed him across the street barely having time to lift his arms to shield him from the impending landing. Thankfully the fruit stand across from Erik's was gracious enough to break his fall.

"My mangos!' The shrill scream of the vendor echoed throughout the street as the wreckage of his livelihood littered the ground and the bruised orc thief. Sevlaz groaned from the pile of broken fruit as he saw the world upside down, the lumbering form of the warrior striding off into the capital.

His red gaze should be filled with rage at being manhandled but instead red fur and golden eyes.

"Sev!" Erik yelled as he began to pull the orc back up around from his upside down heap into a sitting heap. "You alright?"

Sevlaz nodded as he wiped some mushed mango from his face.

"Good good good," the vulpera continued before opening his palm. "So it's gonna be like two gold for those kabobs."

A handful of crushed fruit was hardly the tip he expected.

[bronzeandsage]

DWC 2024 - Day 2 - Deceit/Eternal

The flames are getting closer and the wood under him is getting softer as he lays still. Why was he dead yet? Does it really take this long to bleed out? He should know. He's watched enough people do it. He shouldn't be any different.

Penance. That's what Cal would call it. Stupid humie priest. Poor stupid humie priest. The kid didn't deserve that.

None of them did.

Well maybe he did.

He'd done enough bad to merit this slow end. There was no justifying swift knives or turned screws. It had been just business and his business had always been bad. From the old home to the new homes and beyond. He should have listened to Jae. Or Beil.

Or Elras.

The smoke was growing thicker as his fingers brushed against the black floorboards, the bits of wood sloughing off like clay. The sticky blood was just like the soot on his fingertips. Black. Inky. Awful. Moving.

His vision blinked slowly as he looked at the fingers and the shifting sands between.

Sand?

@daily-writing-challenge

Durotar.

It'd been dream when he'd first heard about it and now it was a practically a metropolis and monument to the old ways of his people. Sev hated it so much.

He should be grateful for a safe haven for his kind, a place to grow and seek out the old ways in an act of redemption. A pretty fairy tale for those who'd never grown up in the pig farms or scrapping iron from the mountains or being fed to a gronn for fun. No one talked about the peons, the dirty secret of the 'Horde'. Old or new, shit still rolled down hill and there they'd be shoveling it.

Never be slaves again? Fuck that.

Sevlaz walked the desert streets of the city, the red dirt stamped hard from the countless feet that crossed the city over and over. His red eyes scanning the crowd here and there, noting the red armored grunts thumping their chests. He offered a thump of his own as he walked by, doing his best to strike a noble face.

"For the Horde, brother," the orc grunt growled as he stood a bit straighter. Sev just gave another thump, doing his best not to look the soldier in the eye. It made his insides twist to bad memories that were souring his good day faster than he wanted. Deceit was appropriate for the enemy, it was even more necessary in the face of your 'family'.

A cart would roll by with some deaders driving it, the smell of dead herbs and roses trailing them as they gave the glowering dim stare to those that crossed. The survivor was happy to step aside to let them pass. The grey skinned creature would nod indifferently to Sev before they urged the kodo on down the row toward the Valley. Best to give it extra breadth, the last thing he needed was to step in a surprise from the beast. Least he hoped it was from the pack animal.

Propping himself up against the stone wall a moment, his leg would lift to give his knee a short respite as he scanned the crowd wandering the streets tonight. Orcs. Tauren. Trolls. Dead. It made sense for those four groups to be on the streets of the city as he recalled from back in the day. Hell even the goblins as much as people might frown at their motives still tolerated their place among the Horde. Sev was fairly grateful to them for the ability just to walk the streets, maybe he should take trip down to Rachet or even Gadgetzen. Long one, but what else did he have going for him? Coren probably be glad to see him doing something other than wallowing about the city.

Best to stick it out here. No more heroes.

Grunting a chortle at his own joke, Sev would ease back onto his leg and start walking again. It didn't bother him as much with the brace, but it still was taking quite a bit of getting used to. Finnick had said it would take practice and patience. He wished he was more abundant in either of those things. The eternal struggle of the thief.

An angry gurgle broke his reverie.

"Yeah yeah," as he reached down to rub at his gut before stalking up the hill. The cacophony of the market of the Valley of Strength was like a low rumbling storm of voices. Voices that he could sometimes hardly believe were here in the desert kingdom. Dwarves and elves fighting alongside the orcs was a very strange turn of events.

His ugly ruined face would turn to follow a pair of lightly armored elven women walk by as they spoke with their colorful and musical voices. Red curls, bright green and blue eyes with the gait of a panther and the soft curves to match. He offered a slight tip of his head as they walked by, neither giving him much notice. He watched them disappear among the crowd and shook his head with the stretched smile on his face.

Strange but pleasant sights.

"Hey there half grin!" A piping voice broke him of his stare as he turned toward the mass of merchants, stalls, and vendors that congregated within the mighty valley. He'd recognize it, but wasn't sure how happy he'd be to see the owner again.

With a snort Sev would cross the final stretch into the Valley of Strength and sidle up to the familiar food cart of his new acquaintance.

Friend was too strong a word for Erik.

[bronzeandsage]

The Survivor Lived

Recently with the Daily Writing Challenge for November 24, I strove to build a set of stories detailing the concept of Sevlaz aka Biggrin aka the Survivor. An orc out of time and space much like his former student, he has been brought from the point of death into the present to aid in something bigger than himself. Will it happen?

Old habits die hard. Bad feelings die harder.

Below you'll find the compilation of all 7 days worth of stories. Hope you enjoy and look forward to maybe collaborating on some stories.

DWC 2024 - November

Day 1 - Haze/Sexy Day 2 - Deceit/Eternal Day 3 - Morose/Strength Day 4 - Surrender/Tranquil Day 5 - Captive/Skill Day 6 - Crack/Positive Day 7 - Peculiar/Theory Epilogue - Choice

[bronzeandsage]

DWC 2024 - Day 1 - Haze/Sexy

There's fire everywhere.

Literally.

He knows it should be warm, it should be hotter than the hell he was expecting to end up in. Maybe not that hot, but close enough in his mind. But he's actually cold. From his tusks to his toes, it's achingly awful feeling to feel the cold numb throughout. It made sense to start at his ruined knee and made even more from the large stab wound to his abdomen. His hand would touch the spot on his stomach again, feeling the slick wet black goo that looked more and more like the oil he'd used to torch that ship during the zepplin job. It'd been a good day then. Jaetha. Beil. Him. And Zexx.

His red eyes closed as he laid it down on the Wayfarer's hold.

Why? Why son?

His eyes opened.

((Some sexual themes after break))

@daily-writing-challenge

Bits of dust and sunlight floated above him as a new day opened. Sevlaz watched silently as what appeared a bit of hair or dust floated gently above and about, lazily circling through the warming air as if dancing to a song of morning. A thick hand would gently lift up to try and touch it, his hazy gaze blinking away the sleep and uneasy dreams. The out of focus green of his skin seemed almost brighter in the early hour, as if turning back the foul taint of all those years ago. To call the blood awful would be understatement and something no one should or could forget. His focus left the beautiful wisp of nothing and returned to his green skin.

The hand was normal for him, least as normal as it was for the last forty some odd years. He felt he should laugh at thinking he'd been alive this long, but then again should he be? His hand twisted to reveal his palm: calloused, torn, scarred, missing a piece of his middle finger. Stupid fish. The hand would drop with a sigh as it flopped to land on his stomach, but instead landed on something softer with slap and a sleepy moan.

Sevlaz would lift his head from his prone position to spy the sprawled out elf laying across him. Alabaster skin to contrast his own dark green with hair a bright blonde that shone like the sun coming up outside his room. To the orcs they call her a toothpick or needing some meat for real fun, but for him he liked the softness and the touch of glass. Fragility in his hands was almost intoxicating.

Of course when the door closed and the lights went out, the ferocity of a hellcat came out and would make an ogre blush. A slight creak of his stretched lips would aid in the lengthening of his permanent grin.

Biggrin. 'Put a smile on tha face, welp.'

Sev would snort as he tried to push down more memories, he didn't need those in his life right now.

But he did need to get up.

The elf girl on top of him had hardly even blinked despite his heavy hand dealing a fresh print to her rear, granted it was a nice sight to add another to her, as he shifted her gently off him. There was a part of him that though it might be fun to wake her up proper as he reached to scratch himself, the familiar twinge roiling in him as he looked her over again. Maybe.

No.

Time to get up and get a move on. Coughing loosely, the orc rubbed at his face before standing and limping over to the piss pot in the corner, his heavy feet thumping heavily as he hobbled his way over. Relief was quick and rejoicing as he let out a very satisfied groan.

With a shake and shiver, Sevlaz would hobble again into the room to find his belongings still in tact despite the pile of gear. It had been a bit madcap when they finally came up to the room in the inn, but wining and more wining had a way of getting his bones moving. In more ways than one.

Scooping up his shirt, the old fabric would stretch appropriately for his broad chest before tugging it in place. Thick fingers brushing cloth as he noted a new hole in the side. Did he get shot? Stabbed? No. Just bad stitching. New task for the list today.

Brace followed as he sat on the fur lined bed, the goblin contraption of leather and metal meant everything and nothing to him. He was glad it worked to hold his leg correctly but how it did he couldn't begin to guess. Money well spent if it just did what he needed it to do as he pulled the last buckle tight. The familiar pain was welcome to the unending pain of his ruined joint.

Pants, boots, and belts were next, the motions the same as they ever were. Well except the click, hiss, and flash of a lighter behind him as he turned his head to see his night time companion was now fully awake and lighting herself a fine black cigarette.

"Morning handsome," she said in that same sultry voice she'd given last night as they sat by the fire pit. And then upstairs on the landing. And in the pond. And waterfall. Before arriving at their final destination. Ruby lips with glowing green eyes hiding among the bedhead of the furs of some animal or other. Modesty wasn't in her vocabulary either as she stretched her bare legs and followed with her back arching out all the right pieces. Sevlaz tilted his head a bit as he watched her.

"A very good morning from the looks of it."

She smiled a bit wider as she blew out the smoke, a sarcastic shrug following. "I guess it was an adequate night."

The orc snorted out a laugh as he tightened his belt and adjusted his shoulder straps feeling the tightness around his back and chest. "I guess I'll have to try harder next time."

"Next time?"

The orc shrugged as flexed his hands feeling and hearing the knuckles pop, more relief etched over his face at the release. "Maybe."

The elf girl shrugged as she pulled her knees up to rest her chin on them as she watched him. "Guess that depends on the coin."

Again the deep laughed rumbled from Sevlaz as he walked over to his discarded pack, flipping it open and rummaging about the disorganization. "And here I thought you liked me."

"You are hardly a charitable cause," she mused as she took another drag, letting a stream of silver smoke to follow.

The jangle of coin and thump of a purse hitting the furs was enough to break her lazy gaze as she eyed it on the bed. Her lips easily took the end of the cigerette again as she leaned over to pick up the leather bag, feeling the weight with a nod. "Generous."

"Ambitious and flush," Sevlaz replied as he he finished smoothing out the tangle of his white braid and side whiskers. "Good?"

The woman shrugged. "For a thief."

A black bandana was tied about his head and adjusted for the day before rotating his neck with a crack. "Now?"

The elf stared for a few moments before setting the coins next to her. "I'd fuck you."

"Now that's a compliment," Sevlaz chuckled as he turned to the heavy flap that functioned a door. "You know the way out?"

"And in."

Another laugh followed as the survivor headed out into the city called Orgimmar.

[bronzeandsage]

DWC 2024 - Epilogue/Choice

A soft clink of clay to rock should have been lost in the throng of entries into the city Orgrimmar. From trolls to tauren, goblins to elves, and even to the fabled panderans from far to the south. All were welcome under the banner of unity and resistance to a world that called them monsters and feared what they could possibly never know. But even in the brightest of lights, there will always be a shadow. Some cling to and stay hidden from the eye, others balance between both to seem they are part of neither.

Many reveled in it.

Broken clay from the bowl was gently lifted from the ground as pale fingers turned it over, the bits sharp and rough from their long tumble from the ramparts. There was a certain affection to it before it was cradled in the palm, skin smooth and soft as lords of the Sun should be. Fingers would close over the pipe and squeeze hard. The knuckles cracking and whitening in a flash as the strength in the thin forearm could only be guessed upon beneath tight sullied and stained bandages. As the hand would open all that would be dust mingled with an oozing black substance.

Black blood.

The wound would trickle the ink as it swirled about the smooth palm. No lines or cracks to guide it. Nothing to impede it. Only the fresh mark of the cracked clay.

Rising the hand would come to it's appropriate face. A deep breath drawn in. Anticipation.

Pressed to lips and drawn in deeply. Tongue lashing with hunger. Relief.

Gently drawn away as a smooth palm once more. Never a drop wasted. Satisfaction.

A smile of far to white teeth and eyes of far to many colors. There was a hint of cold to it's breath. Onward.

The figure would join the crowd again, a crimson hood guarding the face with a cloak sweeping behind to match the dust cloud rising from hundreds of feet.

Grains of sand in the wind. Drops of blood in the sand.

@daily-writing-challenge

[bronzeandsage]

DWC 2024 - Day 7 - Peculiar/Theory

Flashes of red in the darkness floated through his vision. Swimming bits of light and fuzz in a familiar void at the edge of sleep. There was a kind of terror to it but a comfort as well, the familiarity that he knew from dreaming as a child. Or resting under a tree among the tall trees of Nagrand. The warmth of a hand on his chest and the clicking of tusks to tusks. Beautiful.

But it was getting warmer. The hand was gone. Hot breath on his skin growing stronger and less controlled. The red growing brighter and brighter until it was beyond uncomfortable. He needed to cover his eyes, which meant opening them.

A blue sky stretched far and wide carrying lazy white clouds and the wisp of hot breath mingled with dimming grains.

Grains? His eyes would blink faster as he looked up, focus slowly returning as he caught clearer sight of the clouds. Felt the heat of the sun far above him. The hot wind of the grasslands punishing bare ruined skin. Dirt under his fingernails.

"The hell?" Sevlaz heard himself croak, the words foreign to his ears and the empty echo around him. He did not want to do that again.

He would slowly trace the ground, the soil running beneath his fingertips as they brushed against coarse fibers that could only be high grasses of a field. The grass felt soft and brittle to his touch as if the sun had stripped it of any kind of moisture but it was too stubborn to just roll over and die. Apparently he could relate more than he thought as he let the idea sink in.

He should be dead.

Or was he dead?

If he was dead, then this could either be heaven or hell but the sun was far to bright to be either of them. Weakly his hand would come to his chest, just like a memory had before. He sat very still, letting his breath come by slow shallow means as he waited to feel. Something. Anything.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump thump.

It was beating.

"How?"

Sun above disappeared from his view as a shadow fell over him, his eyes desperate to focus on the source. A voice carrying the same weight and thickness came as the shadow stretched but dipped with the arrival of a face.

"Easy, friend."

Green skin. Dark hair. Red eyes. No. Not like his. They were red and orange, like a rising a sun. He'd seen that color a long time ago.

A hand would gently dip to cover his own hand, bearing scars and roughness much like his own. It gently squeezed his as the voice spoke again. "Just take a moment friend, help is on the way. You're safe."

He was safe. He was alive.

He'd survived.

@daily-writing-challenge

"200 gold, fucking robbery," Sevlaz grumbled as he stalked along the streets of Orgrimmar, having told Erik to give him some space while he tried to figure out what to do next. The fox had been adamant about being paid to which Sev had been all to happy to provide him with a half a crate of wrecked mangoes seeing as he had now become a 'primary investor'. Sans a crate and a coin purse, the thief had to figure out what to do next.

That damn cow had cost him way to much but had made it also very clear that he was going to be paying in pieces if he didn't get the damn job done for An'wei. Stealing from a house patriarch in the heart of Silvermoon was not the brightest choice, but when you're desperate and someone is willing to front you the first half of the fee it was hard to say no. With a groan, his hands would come up to rub vigorously at his face trying to clear his head.

He wanted to scream. It likely wouldn't have been out of place to do so given he was alone on the rampart looking out over Durotar.

"Could run," Sev muttered to himself as he began to search on his person for his clay pipe. "Could run south or across the sea. Not that hard to do. Hell heard about the dragon isles or that rock dwarf island. Lots of place Wei wouldn't find me."

The idea of this plot sounded better by the second as he imagined starting again on that island. Rumor was there was a bunch of fanatics underground worshiping a glowing rock and spider people all around. Money to be made for sure and easy to hide. Catch a boat, lay low and let the heat die down. Raincaller be looking for him but he'd not heard of him going much further than Tanaris or even across the great sea. Cow hated the water as far he knew.

"Yeah that's what I'll do-" There was a soft snap in his hand.

The pipe was cracked in half, bowl from stem with bits of silverleaf grain floating off into the wind.

Always with the grains.

His head fell just as the bits of clay fell from his hand into the air below to disappear over the ramparts of the great gate.

"Damn it."

He couldn't run. In more ways than one. This was supposed to be his second chance. Or seventh. Could one with this kind of reputation really keep count? Did he want too?

Chin raising he'd let his eyes close as he breathed in the dusty air, trying desperately to find some means of making this work without getting himself to dirty. Mind racing, imagination churning, and heart sinking into his stomach he knew very clearly what he needed.

A crew.

"Here we go again."

The words hung in his ears and in his heart before letting his out another deep breath and turning to head back into the city. He only had a week to figure this out and gather the right set of 'tools' to make it work. An'wei was only for promises.

A gentle desert breeze blew in behind him with a even softer reedy whine through the gables of the gate. The hot air would caress the back of his neck causing him to reach absently to shake off the bits of dirt that pelted him.

Grains of sand in the wind.

[bronzeandsage]

You portray such a colorful cast of characters from all different races. It is impressive, and I look forward to reading more of your stories. I love seeing how they compliment or antagonize one another as you write.

Thank you so much anon! This means a lot to me and I hope to I live up to some of the expectations from me with this new cast of characters.

[bronzeandsage]

What’s in store for Sevlav now that he has escaped a brush with death?

The future of Sevlaz is an interesting quandary for sure.

Sevlaz will likely be my main for Horde-side roleplay, getting to play an old wardog who doesn't want to be a wardog. To the orc I'm sure a life of minor thievery and debauchery sounds pretty good considering what he left behind. But that will likely not be the case.

I'd love to get to collab and build more about him through interactions with other players to promote his growth but we'll see if and how I get to play with others.

I'd like to get him to a point to have some interactions with his son and his past in Draenor/Outland. I would love to explore his past as a peon within the Blackrock clan and how that shaped his hatred of his own kind. But I'm also looking forward to just some shenanigans doing the thief bit for people and causing some self mayhem.

Most important thing to me though is to stay the course of playing him. I don't want my Horde run to just fizzle in a manic jump back and forth. I've played Alliance so long, it's time to give the other side my time so I can learn and expand my place within the Warcraft universe.

So thank you for the question anon, and I hope if you're reading this as the anon or just someone passing by that we get to do something fun together! Change this up into a bit of a self promotion I suppose.

Anyways, here's Wonderwall.

[captzexx]

I finished the challenge and built a lot of setup for my new Horde characters. It was a good end to November. Thanks @daily-writing-challenge for prompting and engaging me! Check it out and let me know what you think.

@bronzeandsage

The Survivor Lived

Recently with the Daily Writing Challenge for November 24, I strove to build a set of stories detailing the concept of Sevlaz aka Biggrin aka the Survivor. An orc out of time and space much like his former student, he has been brought from the point of death into the present to aid in something bigger than himself. Will it happen?

Old habits die hard. Bad feelings die harder.

Below you'll find the compilation of all 7 days worth of stories. Hope you enjoy and look forward to maybe collaborating on some stories.

DWC 2024 - November

Day 1 - Haze/Sexy Day 2 - Deceit/Eternal Day 3 - Morose/Strength Day 4 - Surrender/Tranquil Day 5 - Captive/Skill Day 6 - Crack/Positive Day 7 - Peculiar/Theory Epilogue - Choice