#dragons and flagons inc

[wildname]

In the blistering cold of Northrend, Thalin was hard at work. In a cleared out patch of frozen earth, the young knight was sparring with two foes, a wooden dummy, and the elements. Thalin decided that he’d challenge himself this day, instead of the normal armor and padding, he was bare chested and with little else, save for trousers. As could be seen by his chattering teeth and visible shivering, he was having a rough time of it.

Thalin huffed against the strain of trying to stay warm while also repeatedly slamming a wooden training blade into the side of the dummy. Cold beads of sweat had frozen to the sides of his body and he finally set his blade down, panting harder. “Trollbane’s  beard...” he shivered. He glanced about the area he had cleared, a fresh snow beginning to fall. “Suppose I should head in before I die. I think that’s a good idea.” He gathered his gear, a shirt and the blade, and hurried down to the tavern as fast as he could.

Thalin glanced around the fairly empty tavern, taking a moment to bask in the warmth. The tavern was a bit empty, but that was fine for Thalin, he didn’t like being out of his armor much anyways, even in what he considered home. He had never gotten the chance to Aisleen since they’re issue about the dragon, and he frowned deeply, still feeling the pain in her voice. Thalin sighed, still a bit chilled, and made his way upstairs. It was a tavern night, and he didn’t want to be half naked if people started showing up.

[thandiroq]

Dragons and Flagons, accompanied by Solaire and Logan,  found themselves within Felwood close to where Blair was apparently being held. Most in attendance seemed to wonder why they would come to this forsaken land. Aisleen, Thalin and Thandiroq, Solaire and Logan knew exactly why they were there, who they were there for. The group made their way into the barrow that Aisleen had seen within a telepathic link and immediately she knew they were in the right place. Everyone knew it was a trap, before the planned ambushes even had a chance to attack they were ready. After that first battle, of many, Thandiroq became so enraged that he would have killed anyone that stood before him, without a thought. 

 It was a good thing that it was the Death Knight that spoke up, saying that it was futile for them to be there and that Blair was probably already long dead and they should just leave. Thandiroq swung with all his strength at Daveon, he knew he could not kill him, for he was already dead, so he settled for slamming his fist into the side of Daveon’s head. Thandiroq berated him for saying such things, told him that they were here for Blair, for their leader and family member. Alive or dead, they would bring her home and for Thandiroq those words would come true even if it meant his life in the process. Perhaps that exchange would be made, so the jeering from the satrys hinted at as they descended further into the barrow.

 They saw many things in their trek into the nightmarish world, skeletal remains, demons, satyrs... altars. The altar in the latest room they entered, was not empty, upon it lied a fresh body that still lived. It was satyr and it knew who they were, more so it was the one that had spoken to Aisleen and guided them there. Thandiroq stood there in shock looking at the scene before him, not at the sight of the dying creature, but at his words. The satyr was different than the others they had come upon, he was remorseful, compassionate, he was sorry, for everything he had done up to this moment in time. No, he was sorry for everything but this moment, he wanted to help the group find Blair. To find the woman his once allies had kidnapped, to save the woman that reminded him of his sister from another life.

 Thandiroq had listened to many a dying satyrs last words these past days, begging for forgiveness, saying they had no choice and hoping to be spared. They meant nothing to Thandiroq, until now, with this satyr before him it was different, he was accepting what was to come and wanted the chance to atone.  Daveon stood close behind Thandiroq and asked the satyr his name, but Thandiroq took it another step. He asked for the fallen Night Elf’s, Kaldorei name. Naelar Nightstar. Thandiroq approached Naelar and reached a hand out for the blade embedded within his chest. “Thank you for what you’ve done, Elune will be with you.” Thandiroq placed his free hand over Naelar’s eyes and spoke. “Ishnu-alah Naelar Nightstar, Ande'thoras'ethil.” Slowly Thandiroq removed the blade and tossed it to the side of the room, the once Kaldorei form lying there upon the altar unmoving.

 The group took some time to recompose themselves, clearly tiring from the endless battles, physical and mental, that they were fighting. Soon they would start again, to bring Blair back home and make the satyrs that chose to do this suffer.

[wildname]

In the quiet hours of the night, Thalin sat. His desk had been cleared away save for a few books and a single troll tusk. A candle lit the room and showed unique etchings across the surface of the tusk. In that dim light, Thalin matched runes from it to runes in a nearby book, and if not there, then another book would have them.

He had spent hours on end in his room, reading over these bothersome runes. “Dammit,” Thalin sighed, leaning back in his chair while running his hands through his hair. “Zal, you never made anything easy.” He looked down at what he was able to ‘translate’. What was given was a sort of story, from what Thalin could guess, a sort of family history of the troll. He leaned forward and scrolled to the newest rune he could find, Blood will show the path.

“Lovely,” he mused, pondering what this new riddle meant. Thalin thought back to his dealings with the witch doctor this tusk came from, Zaladrin. The old bastard was cunning, constantly sending Thalin, Ave, and others on wild hunts across the jungles of Stranglethorn. Thalin’s face dropped to a frown as he remembered the last ‘job’ they were given.

The heat of the jungle wore down on Thalin as they lay crouched on a ridge overlooking old Gurubashi ruins. Ave lay close beside him, scouting the area as best she could from this vantage. Further down the hill, three others readied themselves. 

A human male of Thalin’s age read through an old looking scroll, smiling as he did so. He wore silk garments that allowed ease of movement while maintaining some flair, something the man claimed was always necessary. His long, blazing red hair was tied back into a tight tail, framing his sharp features. This was Aden Castelle, a mage of lower birth yet great skill.

Close by was a long bearded dwarf with a scowl pointed at Aden. His grim features showed many scars of past battles, some of which Thalin was a part of and knew, while others were kept from him. The greying dwarf wore rugged leathers overlying mail links, and sported a large rifle. Thalin knew the man simply as Grimm, whether that was his given name or not, he didn’t care to ask.

Finally, near the back, was a hunched figure in strange hide robes. Bones dangled up and down the male’s frame, mixed with feathers, beads, and more grisly trophies. A large wooden mask hid the most discernible features of the troll, which was impossible to hide from his stature, tusks and ears, and recognizable accent. Zaladrin, a name Thalin knew he’d remember.

Aden hummed quietly as he read, seeming to know he was pissing the dwarf off. “You seem angry, Grimmy,” the young man toyed.

Grimm grunted, “Shut it, prissy little git,” The dwarf scowled, pointing a fat finger at the mage.

“Both’a ya stow it, I dunna want da how jungle ta know we here. I wasn’t lying ta ya when I say des ruins be special. Da spirits be awake here, remember dat.” Zaladrin warned, making sure that both Thalin and Ave could also hear him. The pair quickly quieted down, Zaladrin chuckled, “Now, let me see what we be dealing wit.” The troll crouched down, drawing strange shapes into the dirt beneath him. A chilling breeze swept through as the witch doctor brought a flint dagger from his side, holding it against his hand. “Blood will show da path,” he said.

Thalin looked down at the tusk with a grim sigh. He brought his hand to the dagger Ave had given him. “Maybe not...” he winced, still not wishing to use the small blade. He reached over and grabbed hold of Windhowl, his greatsword. Running his bare hand across the blade’s edge, he remained silent as blood dripped onto the tusk, small drops would do. Thalin murmured to himself, “Blood will show the path,” as he watch. A second passed. Then two. “Damn, cut myself for nothing.” he sighed, setting Windhowl back to it’s place, he’d need to clean it again. As he looked back, he watched the runes upon the tusk glow a bright crimson. “Uther’s balls...” The tusk twitched on the table, spinning before stopping, point facing the wall. 

Thalin looked at the tusk with confusion, thinking he should ask Blair, Aisleen, or Zina, hell, even Daveon if he were still around. He watched the tusk for a moment longer, then looked to the wall it was pointing at. Thalin blinked as the cogs began to turn in his head. He pulled out his compass and map. “Blood will show the path, eh? Didn’t think you were literal in that.”

[wildname]

Thalin sat on his bed, holding the scale in his hand. It was such a small thing, yet it held so much meaning to so many people, in so many ways. When Thalin was young, he grew up listening to the stories of great heroes slaying dragons, saving kingdoms, and he always loved those stories, until recently. He ran his thumb along the scale’s edge, feeling every small bump and sharp prick. He had not thought to speak to the dragon, he didn’t know they could speak.

Thalin did not fully regret the act though, in his mind, he was still in the right. He played out the fight in his head, remembering seeing the dragon’s fire attempt to engulf Thandiroq and himself many times. The dragon never told them to leave, it never warned them. Thalin’s gaze turned to a desk that lay on one end of his room. 

On the desk sat mementos of past adventures and things of importance to him. His old sword sat on the side of the desk. A number of books that were gifts were spread out along the surface. A small vial held a golden molar, a gift Thalin earned for himself in Booty Bay. And then there was Thalin’s favorite, the broken tusk of a jungle troll.

Thalin’s face turned to a slight smile at the memory. That was Zaladrin’s tusk, a witch doctor that owed far more to Thalin than just a tusk. “I swear, I’m still picking out splinters from that bastard.” he mumbled to himself.

Thalin sighed to himself and tucked the scale away, beneath his shirt. He needed to make things right with Aisleen, but he also needed to let her know what he felt. “Light, give me strength.”

[thandiroq]

The Reunion, part 1

 It had been 5 days since the job in Uldum that Aisleen and Thandiroq had gone on the request of a farmer. The client had been worried over the missing sounds of frogs from the oasis nearby. Missing frogs, should have been an easy job and one completed within enough time to put them back home enjoying a celebratory mead for a job well done. Someone forgot to tell the Naga that made the oasis their new home that bit of information. Four of the twisted, once Kaldorei, beasts had for some reason taken occupancy in the oasis and either scared off or made meals of the frogs. That meant that dealing with the Nagas was now part of the job at hand, not that Aisleen or Thandiroq needed a reason to remove the intruders from the oasis or from the face of Azeroth in general. Much like the Satyrs, Naga were of a breed that Thandiroq had no issue with ending the life of.  

 Four Naga against Aisleen and himself, the odds couldn’t have been more favorable for Dragons and Flagons Inc. Thandiroq wasted no time in initiating battle, but he did not fall into rage as he did when they faced the Satyrs, when he fought his father. He was collected, calm and precise. Thandiroq showed grace as he danced between the striking spears of the Naga, countering and attacking with his twin blades as he kept the adversaries away from Aisleen. This allowed the druidess to attack the nagas as well and to also keep Thandiroq standing with her healing. The Nagas began to fall, one by one, landing few blows, none of any issue or concern to Thandiroq, until only two remained. That’s when the Naga began fighting with more fury and recklessness in their attacks. That is when one Naga in particular successfully landed a strike that caused harm. Thandiroq lept between an attack that was meant for Aisleen, taking the tip of the spear into his side, just above his hip. It dug in, half the spear head no longer visible. Thandiroq was still calm and collected, “That’s the spirit.” he spoke to the Naga with a blank look on his face and a somehow soothing voice as he drove his blades into its stomach. Before the Naga fell it once again struck at Thandiroq in an attempt to take the Kaldorei warrior with it. It twisted the spear head as it was still embedded in Thandiroq’s side. That finally caused the Kaldorei to yell out, to roar with pain before slicing the Naga into multiple pieces. The calm was gone, he was no longer collected in his actions, only one Naga remained and Thandiroq unleashed his pain upon it. He drove his swords into the Nagas skull, tips first, running both down until the hilts of the blades slammed into the skull and stopped. Blood fell into the waters they had been fighting in, Naga blood, Kaldorei blood, Thandiroq’s blood. The battle was over, but it ended at a price higher than they thought would need to be paid. 

 Five days had come and passed, the wound from the spear was healing, but slowly. It still bled as the hole kept reopening from Thandiroq refusing to remain still long enough for the wound to heal properly. This day was no different, Thandiroq donned his armor and took up his swords before heading out of the Green Flagon. He was in need of training, he needed to keep himself in perfect condition so that he could keep protecting those he cared about. Thandiroq needed to prepare for the next ambush, the next mission that could put them in harm's way, for the next Xaemovian. He turned to look at his home, The Green Flagon and smiled, his mind at ease when he turned around and was greeted by an arrow sinking into his shoulder. “Well met, Thandiroq, Prodigal Son.” A cold, dark, deep voice called to him from the road in front of the tavern. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting, though you’ve kept me waiting just as long.”

 There stood a figure in the distance, covered with a cloak, wielding a simple bow in his right hand, his left holding the arrow in place as it pulled back the string on the bow. Thandiroq was dazed, confused at that moment and he hesitated. A second arrow dug into Thandiroq’s opposite shoulder, causing him to take a step back. A blank look on Thandiroq’s face as he continued to eye this strange assailant, his right hand coming up to grab hold of one the arrows and removed it. He brought the arrow closer to inspect the projectile, taking note that the tips were not pointed, not enough to allow the arrows to penetrate past the shoulder armor that they hit. Thandiroq’s eyebrow arched as he eyed the arrow, then the figure before him. “Who are you? That is so foolish to assault a member of Dragons and Flagons before the very home they call their own.” He took a step forward as he spoke, “Surely not a Satyr, not after what we did to the last group that dared.” He took a second step forward as a third arrow entered his shoulder armor, his momentum unaffected, “And with what seems no intent to kill, perhaps even to harm.” The cloaked and hooded figure lowered the bow and dropped it to the snowy ground. “I see, you have noticed my intent already, you have progressed even more than I had initially thought.” The figured chuckled as its arms moved under the cloak, to produce a polearm from its depth. “Let me step up my attempt to see how far you have truly progressed.” He stooped down into a pose holding the spear in a manner that intrigued Thandiroq, the tip of the weapon pointed not at him, but to the side. “Come Thandiroq, we will not be interrupted, I have seen to it that your... friends, family have been dealt with. So that we can have our privacy.” Thandiroq stopped making his way towards the cloaked figure at the mention of his family being taken care of and didn’t hesitate to turn and make an attempt to get back to the tavern. Thandiroq turned and stood with wide eyes, “Don’t be rude dear boy, I’ve come so far to see you. Waited so long.” The figure now stood before Thandiroq, between him and the tavern, in the very same attack pose as it had before. Thandiroq turned his head slightly to look behind him, where the figure had once been, that’s when he knew he had made a mistake. “Foolish, never take your eyes from what is before you. Perhaps I was wrong about you.” The whisper in his ear told Thandiroq all he needed to know, just before the pain wracked his entire body, emanating from the very wound that the Naga spear had given him.

[wildname]

Thalin laid in his bed at the Flagon for the first time for quite a while, he didn’t feel right returning there without having the whole family there. But the cost of staying in Stormwind’s inns nightly was beginning to add up. Adding on the strange series of events that  had been plaguing him recently, it seemed like the quiet of the Flagon was preferable. He starred up at the ceiling, holding a sleek object in his hand, a dagger of admittedly strange make. 

In the flickering candle light of his room, the shape of the dagger played with Thalin’s eyes. The physical shape of the dagger was that of a small flight feather, like that of a bird”s wing. As the light danced across the blackened steel, strange shapes washed across the blade’s edge. Thalin scowled looking at the dagger, ever since he picked up the damn thing, he’s felt nothing but convulsion to hold and touch it. Sighing, he sheathed the blade in a scabbard that it fit into generally well, sating his curiosity for a moment. 

“Dammit, Ave,” the young man started, “What is this thing?” Thalin recalled his most recent glimpse of his old friend in Stormwind. As he spoke to this strange Night Elf on the origin of the sword his master gifted too him, he caught sight of her down the winding streets of the Mage Quarter. It pained his heart seeing even the faintest trace of Ave’s being, but the knowledge of a mystery surrounding his master was far more important at that time. Thalin set his arm above his eyes, remembering the gift that Sir Baris had given him.

The storms had ruined all the good work that the Silver Bastion had done for Menethil since the Cataclysm. As Thalin wiped his brow, he looked out at his old brothers hard at work. So few of them remained, most taken by the war with the Legion. Thalin lowered his head and watched the swamp water swirl around his feet. Shaking his head, he returned to work, stacking sand bags along what would become a sort of damn to help stem the constant flow of water into the town itself.

“Thalin! Get your ass over here!” A shout rang out. Thalin jumped up, and sloshed through the ankle deep water. The young knight came around the keep to see his old master standing with a group of his order. Thalin gave himself a moment to admire his hero again. Sir Baris the Lionhearted, as was his title, was a mountain of a man, and to Thalin, might even make Thandiroq quiver in his boots. His graying mane was swiped back from the sweat of his work and the dampness of the local, but still held a sense of regalia and pride. His left eye carried a deep scar that left the eye ruined, but only added to the old man’s fierceness. Sir Baris stroked his beard in the setting sun, gazing at the assembled Bastion before him. As he glanced to his side, his glare became a scowl, “Dammit boy! I said get over here! The city make you daft?” he roared in Thalin’s direction.

Thalin sprinted as fast as he could through the flooded town as he brought himself into the formation that was assembled. He ignored the snickers and goading from his old comrades as he brought himself to attention before the “Old Lion”, as he was often called. 

With a gruff nod, Sir Baris started, “Alright shitheads, I know it’s right fucked up that all our hard work was pissed away.” He glared at the town with a sigh, “But remember that we’ve all sworn an oath to these people, to protect and serve them, no matter what is thrown at us. And as you all know, some of us have paid the ultimate price for that oath.” The usual frown upon the old knight’s face was replaced with something that could only be sorrow. “And some of you have taken that oath to a different place.” he continued. “Thalin, post!”

Thalin moved forward and stood before his master, turning on his heel to stand before the rest of the Bastion. “Young Thalin here has proven himself time and time again against the shit in the world, not in the grand campaigns on other worlds or against the powers that be, but here, on the home front.” Sir Baris slapped the young knight on the shoulder, pride filling Thalin’s heart but not showing upon his face. “From the reports I’ve read, this man has been hard at work across the world, from Duskwood to Silithus. And, much to the Bastion’s honor, he stood against agents of the Legion in our own soil!” A roar erupted from the gathered men, which were quickly silenced by a glare from Sir Baris, “And because of this, the world is a bit safer. So, Thalin, about-face.”

Thalin turned upon his heel again, facing his old master. “Present to me your weapon.” the old knight stated. Thalin removed his blade and stood it before the man. Sir Baris took hold of the sword and set it to the side. He motioned his hand and a new blade was given to him. “Thalin Wildname, Sworn of the Silver Bastion, Dragongarde of Dragons and Flagons, on behalf of myself, and your brothers, I hereby gift unto you this blade.”  Sir Baris, leaned the blade forward, and Thalin starred at it for a long moment. While not entirely remarkable in design as zweihanders go, Thalin was mesmerized. He remembered seeing his master wield it during his early days as a squire, he witnessed dozens of foes brought down by this sword, and now he was given it by the man he admired most in the world. With a shaky left hand, Thalin took hold of the blade and brought it to his side. His right hand snapped up to his forehead in a crisp salute to his master. The Old Lion gave a fierce grin and returned the salute, and once more the Bastion roared in approval.

Thalin smiled in his bed, the same pride of that day filling his heart again, but now a small sting snuck it’s way in. He looked across the room to his blade, leaning against the wall. “Windhowl...” he whispered to himself, “Where did he get you?” and reaching back to the dagger, he unsheathed it and gazed once more upon the small blade, “And what am I going to do with you?”

[wildname]

It had been some time since the incident at the burrow, when the guild had saved one at the cost of another. Thalin understood that sacrifices were needed to save others, and Daveon gave the ultimate sacrifice. The death knight was always a pain in Thalin’s side, but he was a dear friend nonetheless, the two having many adventures of their own in Stormwind and beyond, some were good, others not so much. But every night now, Thalin took a moment to meditate on his memories of him. This night, he built up the courage to visit his friend’s grave, out in the biting cold of Dragonblight. 

Feeling that wind reminded Thalin of the death knight, annoying, a pain in the ass, yet a constant reminder that he was never alone, and he wasn’t. Thalin glanced back, hearing the softest crunch in the fresh snow, his heart grew heavy at the sight of her. Ave was shrouded in a dark robe, which billowed slightly in the Northrend winds, a hood obscuring her features. Thalin turned from her and kept his gaze upon the grave, “How long have you stayed out here, Ave?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Ave smiled with a soft chuckle, “Long enough, Thalin.” she started, frowning slightly with thought, “I’m sorry for your friend, I truly am. I saw how you enjoyed his company, even if it was a bit much at times.” She moved softly forward and set her hands upon Thalin’s shoulders, pressing herself against him. “You know I could tell that you were in pain, right?”

Thalin nodded slightly, not finding the strength move her away. “The guild’s been put through so much, and we can never recover what was lost.” Thalin stood there for a long moment, quietly enjoying the warmth coming from his old friend. His face grew pained as he remembered the burrow once more, “Ave, I have to tell you something.” Thalin breathed, knowing that she would hear.

Her head lifted up, staring at Thalin with curious yet expecting eyes, “Yes, ma alor?”

Thalin winced at those words, but steeled himself, “Ave, I know you know that I went down into that burrow in Felwood.” Ave nodded quietly, letting him continue. “Well, down there, I made a promise that I must see fulfilled.” Thalin stated, slowly turning to meet her gaze. Those once emerald eyes now brought him so much grief, more so then ever this moment. 

Ave’s face betrayed her confusion, which Thalin was thankful for. “What was it? Is it some duty to the guild, to him,” Ave motioned to Daveon’s grave, then stood silent for a moment, “To a woman?”

Thalin simply shook his head, “No, it’s a promise I made to you.” Thalin wrapped his arms around Ave’s waist and pulled her close, noticing a lack of resistance. He held her tightly and whispered in her ear, “I promised that I’d save you.” Thalin rested his head on her shoulder, remembering those words that he spoke in the burrow. He heard a soft whimper from Ave and held on, she was still there, she could be saved.

[wildname]

The warm sun of Stormwind was a happy memory for Thalin. Many times in his youth, far more than he could count, he had rode into the city with his family, always in awe each time of it’s majesty. These recent days however, that same warm light was his sanctuary. It had been days since Blair was taken, and Thalin couldn’t stand to sit in the bar, in the spot that he had failed the guild. He had stood idle when the leader had grabbed her, he was closest when they left the tavern, and he did nothing. The remainder of that night was spent in the snow, hunting for any trace of the satyr and Blair, but he knew that he’d never find them.

Now all he could do was wait, and hope that Aisleen and Rock would figure out what to do. He sat on a bench in the quieter part of the Mage District, an area he had frequented since joining the guild, reading up on the fundamentals of magic, trying to keep his mind to other things. He didn’t notice the figure sit down before him until he caught the scent. It was a fragrance of lavender and citrus, and he only knew one person who smelled like that. “Afternoon, Ave.” Thalin stated, not looking up from his book.

The figured chuckled, it was a melodic voice that pained Thalin to hear. The person spoke a phrase in Thalassian, a phrase Thalin only knew was a greeting. The figure glided down to the bench next to Thalin, utterly silent in their approach. “You’ve been having a rough time lately,” The figure said, their voice a mixture of amusement and pain. 

Thalin looked up at the figure, knowing exactly who they were, but actually seeing them for the first time in quite a while. Her armor was a dark leather, stronger in key locations while staying supple at the joints and areas that would put stress on the body. Metal rivets poked out from areas along the stomach, her upper arms, and her upper legs. Around her waist was a deep purple sash, almost black in color, and upon it sat a thin leather belt with two daggers sheathed at either side. Thalin knew that Ave had a history of hiding things on her person for fights, and he felt this was one such location. Her face was barely visible from behind her cowl, but something caught his eye. Thalin narrowed his eyes and stared at was visible of her face for a moment, “You... dyed your hair?” he pondered.

Ave laughed, and sat with an almost wicked grin, slowly bringing her hands up to her head. Thalin watched with equal parts curiosity and uneasiness as she removed her hood. Jet black hair cascaded down from her shoulders, catching the light in a fashion that dazzled Thalin for but a moment. He brought his gaze to her face, and saw the same sharp features of all those years ago, but one thing was off. Her once emerald eyes were now a violet hue, reminiscent of the shadow magics he had saw Blair cast. Ave brushed her hair behind her ear, seeming to relish the attention she was getting from Thalin. “I thought I’d try a new look. You like it?” she asked, teasingly.

Thalin’s blood was frozen, his heart rate racing, and he felt as though he might be sick, “W-what has happened to you?” He knew that the magics of that ruin had warped her mind, but now they leaked into her body. Thalin was no expert on magic, by any stretch of the imagination, but he had talked to Blair and Nataari about magic before, and things like this were bad.

The elf looked at a lock of her air, still giving an amused smirk, “The Loa are long term thinkers. They would only gift me more strength I could show that I was worthy of it. These are just side effects.” She glanced the knight up and down, seeming to read more than what she saw. “I like the armor, purple looks good on you.” She teased again, bringing her hand up to Thalin’s face, and running her hand across his cheek. She chuckled, “Seem’s you’ve gotten more relaxed too,” she smiled, feeling his stubble.

Thalin kept firm, simply watching her. When it was obvious that he wasn’t going to react, Ave removed her hand. “Tell me, Ave,” Thalin started, “What business do you have here, and what does the guild have to do with you?” Thalin asked, preferring to get to the point.

Ave receded from the knight and dropped her smile, looking genuinely in pain by his tone. “It’s been too long, Thalin. We’ve haven’t talked to each other since we returned from the ruins, and that was four years ago.” She spoke, bringing her gaze down to Thalin’s right ankle. “When you were caught in that headhunter’s trap, I felt so weak, that I couldn’t do anything to help you. But you told me to continue into the ruin, and that gave me the courage to finish the job. But at the back of my mind, I knew that you were still in danger.” She paused, looking back up at Thalin, “That’s when the Loa came to me.

“They told me that they had a gift for me, and that this gift could save you. Without hesitation, I took their gift. It gave me the strength to navigate the ruin and comeback to you.” she stopped again, her eyes betrayed a heartbreaking pain, “But those gifts drove you away.”

Thalin looked his old friend over, seeing new scares on what skin was visible, his own heart aching from knowing that he drove her to this. He sighed deeply before saying, “You haven’t answered my question yet, what’s your goal?” 

Voices echoed, coming up a path near to them. Thalin glanced over to the path before turning back to Ave. Before he could say another word, he felt her lips upon his, and just as quickly, she was up and walking away. Her voice echoed to him, “Elu'meniel mal alann, ma alor.”

[thandiroq]

Equal. Brother. Hero.

Anger. Disgust. Resentment. Hate. This was all Thandiroq ever thought of the Death Knight Daveon Darkwood, every time he looked upon him, had to deal with his antics at the Green Flagon and stand by him on the battlefield. Thandiroq never once thought of Daveon in a kindly manner, showed him any respect. Sure he put up with him, didn’t outright show his feelings and at times humored Daveon, but deep down those lies angered the Kaldorei. Ever since that first time he witnessed the Death Knights lust for battle and blood. Ever since he reminded him of the last person he knew with such tendencies. Vindarael, Xaemovian... Thandiroq’s father, the one that orchestrated everything that had happened up to and including the final rest of Daveon Darkwood.

 You could not doubt that his prowess on the field of battle was something that you thanked for having with you, than against you. Nor could you doubt that his tact off the field was something you wish you wouldn’t have to witness. Daveon was an oddity, but one that shall be missed. Who he was in his prior life wasn’t clearly known or why he came to be, not as a Death Knight but his mannerisms, truthfully Thandiroq didn’t care. Nothing mattered about what was once Daveon, all that mattered was how his legacy was to be preserved. Blair said that he would be honored in the halls of the Green Flagon, his weapon displayed on the walls for all to see as testament to what he had given. Thandiroq saw it differently, he saw it as they, Dragons and Flagons being the ones honored by the display. 

 What makes one a hero? The battles they fight? The monsters and adversaries they’ve defeated? The fame they’ve acquired? No. It is without second thought to jump into a dire situation, even if one knew there was no escape. That is what Thandiroq thought it meant and that is what Daveon had done. For the first time since meeting the Death Knight, Thandiroq embraced Daveon as an equal, as a brother, he felt joy and sadness. Xaemovian, once his father, had said Thandiroq would lose his family again, that he would take them from him, again. How wrong he was, for now it had grown, even if for a brief moment in reality. Until Thandiroq’s last breath and beyond, his family will always be one member stronger.

 The moment finally came, Daveon walked away from the others, not wanting them to witness the act as he drove his dagger into his own heart. Thandiroq followed his every movement with his eyes, Daveon did not want them to see, but he could not bare to turn away, Thandiroq would be witness. Witness to possibly the truest sign of a hero in his mind. Self Sacrifice. 

 Daveon Darkwood, Dragongarde of Dragons and Flagons Inc, Idiot Savant, self proclaimed ladies man, Hero. 

 Long may his tale be told.

[thandiroq]

All Thandiroq heard at first was “Satyr...” and  “he said they’re going to kill her.”, the look on his face going from rage to worry in instant. He didn’t understand what caused Aisleen to say what she did, all he knew was how powerless he felt. All the reassuring she had been giving him, all the help with fighting the rage building within, began to disappear. Thandiroq looked as if the ground fell from beneath his feet as Aisleen’s words struck him harder then any enemy had ever done and began to stumble over to a tree that stood near him. His rage swelling, he pushed back from the trunk and then slammed his fist into the tree. Splinters flew from the contact, Thandiroq’s fist embedded deep into the tree’s trunk, deeper then should have been possible. He was lost, knew not what do or to ask for guidance. 

 Then he heard her, the voice that had been guiding him since they arrived in Darnassus, Aisleen spoke, "I know where to go.”  Thandiroq looked over to the druidess, he heard her words, as she spoke them and in the telepathic link. He was filled with hope and happiness for a moment, until he remembered Aisleen’s first words. The rage coming back, mixing with his other emotions, he thought to himself. Hold on Blair, we’re coming... he then pictured the Satyr that kidnapped her, I am coming.

[wildname]

Thalin rolled out of bed with a soft groan, damn he was sore. He had a long week, helping out with his old master, Sir Baris, down in Menethil. A recent storm had destroyed all the work his order had done to help the small town. On top of that, Himmel had the worst timing when it came to catching the wind. And just when he thought that he could finally rest and have a nice drink, Blair says they’re all going to have a training session.  Thalin smiled, “I really need something for magic.” The knight wandered downstairs with just his padding on, he wasn’t going out far. 

The biting cold of Northrend was an odd enjoyment for him, he felt calm in the cold. He made his way to the stables were Himmel stayed, taking a moment to watch the sky, it was clear tonight, and he watched the stars.  As he entered the stables, the griffon’s avian head darted up, scanning the room, “Evening girl, how’re you resting up?” Thalin chuckled as he sat down, stroking her plumage. The beast gave a low cooing sound, resting her head on Thalin’s lap. He, in turn leaned back and rested his head on her feline shoulders, thinking.

It was four years ago that he truly became an adventurer, when Sir Baris told him to “Fuck off, and find a cause.” So that’s what he did, or tried to at least. He decided down in Booty Bay would be the best shot at finding a cause. What he found was a massive storm that soaked him from Duskwood to the city. The city wasn’t as welcoming as he imagined either, the goblins eyed him with a hungry look, the trolls looked actually hungry when they looked at him, and the others were just the kind of folk Thalin didn’t deal with.

His first day was spent hunting down an inn that was cheap enough, but also wouldn’t kill him. Eventually, he found a run down inn called, The Salty Shore. Just before he entered he looked down to see a thin figure, completely soaked from the rain and shivering violently. Thalin stared for a long moment before heading in, and ordering a room. He then returned outside, retrieving the person and bringing them in. He ignored the comments as he carried the person upstairs to his room and set them on the bed.

It was a long awkward moment when he found out that the person was a woman, and he had undressed her to try and warm her up. As the hour passed he stayed on the far side of the room, trying to figure out how to not seem like some pervert. As she came too, Thalin bolted up, “UH, I’m terribly sorry for all of this, I just found you outside in the storm and you looked like you were freezing to death and I-” He continued like this for a long moment as the woman just watched.

She interrupted him after a moment with a small chuckle, “It’s quite alright, you have my thanks, sir.” She smiled, and gave a small nod.  Thalin blinked as he actually saw the woman for the first time. She was elven, but not like the elves he normally saw in Stormwind, her skin was a flesh tone like his but fairer. Her hair was a golden hue that almost shined, even in the dim light of the room. What caught his attention the most was her eyes, they were a bright emerald green, and they looked almost as if they glowed.  She seemed to know that he was staring and gave another smile smile, “I hope you can speak common, I was sure it was the human’s language.”

Thalin blinked quickly and coughed, trying to compose himself. “I uh, yes! My name is Thalin, Thalin Wildname, miss. I’m also not a true knight yet.” Thalin answered, a wide smile on his face despite his flushed cheeks.  “Would I be able to get your name as well, miss?” he says, remembering his manners.

The elven woman chuckles again, “Avernya, and thank you again, Thalin.”

That was when his adventuring career started. He laid there now, he was remembering that night more and more lately. As he rolled onto his side, he looked to the ground, and the letter on the ground. With a small nod, Thalin picked up the letter and wandered inside, “Ave, I’m sorry.”

[thandiroq]

 It had taken longer than Thandrioq would have liked, but they had their destination. Aisleen had learned where they needed to go to in order to start searching for Blair. Thandiroq new that the search would begin in Darkshore, he new but he did not rush off in search, not alone. If he had learned anything from his time with the guild, his new family, it was that he would not have to do anything alone. How he wanted to rush out into the trap that surely awaited them, to destroy every last one of the Satyrs involved in the assault of the tavern and the leader that commanded them. Thandiroq stayed calm and clear minded, though that was not how he began when Blair was abducted.

 Thandiroq reached out, his eyes closed and he breathed deep. His hand gently and calmly ran over the pocket watches face, his finger pressed down onto the button that opened the cover to reveal the moving hands of the timepiece and the numbers within. A smile came to his face as he opened his eyes to look at the gift Blair had given him and his mind began to clear. The anger, pain and rage was still there, but it was not what drove him now. What drove Thandiroq was hope, hope that Blair would hold out till they arrived, hope that they indeed would get to her in time. Hope that when all was settled between Dragons and Flagons and the Satyrs, any who dared to challenge or attack them, would know they would be damned if they tried.

 Thandiroq would see to the Satyrs be judged for their folly, with their lives. It was already decided in his mind and surely in the others. You do not come into a person’s home, threaten their family with death, abduct a member of their family and go without punishment. No, you don’t do such a thing, especially when it’s his home and his family. Especially when that one person was Blair, the true embodiment of all that, in his eyes, his  heart and his soul. 

 How appropriate it is that “Sin” was the command to unleash his blades, for that is what the Satyrs did with their act and soon they would answer for it.

[thandiroq]

Thandiroq went looking for blood, gave into the rage that was a part of his past. There stood the Satyrs, the ones that took Blair from the Green Flagon, the one that lead them, that ordered them to attack his family. Thandiroq could not see his face, could not make out his voice. All he could see was the blood, the blood of his family, everyone that he’d come to care for and respect since joining Dragons and Flagons and the blood of Blair... on his blades. Thandiroq did not stand before the Satyrs in opposition, he stood beside them as they laughed and welcomed him. The light was gone, from his eyes, his soul and Elune, he was now in the dark, embraced by it, led by it, he was it. He went for blood and he got it, more then he wanted, but oddly enough, Thandiroq needed more, wanted more now, now that he was Satyr. 

 Thandiroq awoke from his nightmare in a cold sweat, he had gone the last three days without sleeping. He had fought the call of slumber, wanting to be awake when the information they were looking for came. Thandiroq didn’t remember when it finally came, all he knew was it was not what he wanted. He spoke the word, “Sin” and it was eating him away inside, in his sorrow and pain he was ready to give into his darkness. The last time the feeling had shown itself he ventured to his family's gravesite in Auberdine to help rid himself of the anger, as it had always done before. Somehow, speaking to his family at that place calmed him, but now it didn’t feel right to do that, not since the last time he went and the Satyrs ambushed im. That’s when it started, why? He did not know, but they wanted him, this Xaemovian wanted him.

 What was he willing to do, to get Blair back? To make his family whole again, what was he willing to do? Thandiroq’s eyes fell to his blades that stood against the wall, the mist swaying about the weapons, then to a pocket watch that sat upon a table, a gift from Blair, finally his eyes fell upon a broken gemstone, once in the shape of a crescent moon, a gift from his mother. Thandiroq was being torn inside. Rage, love, sorrow, happiness all swirled around his heart and he knew not which to follow at this time. “Elune guide me.”  Thandiroq stood from the bed and reached out, his eyes closing as he asked  for Elune’s guidance. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know what he now held in his grasp and his mind was settled, his heart held only one emotion. 

 Thandiroq would do anything that was needed for him to get Blair back, to keep her and the rest of his family safe. 

[thandiroq]

The day of the job began like any other, the guild met within the hearth area of the Green Flagon, talking amongst each other as they waited for Blair to appear. That should have been the first sign that something bad was about to happen. A few minutes after the designated meeting time had passed and finally Blair showed up, she was angry, the person that had sought to hire the guild for a job didn’t show and they were nowhere near the vicinity of the tavern, the second red flag. Thalin suggested that he take his gryphon and head out to look for the person or persons that wanted the guild for the job, thinking they could be in trouble and required aid. Blair gave him the go ahead and he wasted no time, neither did the Satyrs. 

 As Thalin approached the door, it blew in, sending the warrior crashing against the opposite wall and in came 5 tall, dark and ferocious Satyrs. Thandiroq stood there staring at the largest one, a purple furred monstrosity and he was sent back to when he last visited Auberdine. Satyrs, they had ambushed him at his mother’s and sibling’s gravesite, intending to apprehend and deliver him to a, Xaemovian. The assumed leader of this pack of once Kaldorei people. It wasn’t until he heard the purple-furred Satyr speak did Rock make a move, he threatened them, his family, with death. Worst of all, he threatened Blair and it caused Thandiroq to suddenly tap into the one thing he had tried so hard to discard, his rage. Somehow he kept a clear mind, perhaps because he knew that they erred choosing to fight within the home of the guild, magically protected by Aisleen’s power. Maybe it was because he knew that his family, Dragons and Flagons, stood ready to fight them back with everything they had. Thandiroq kept his composure and stood strong against the assailant’s as three of them fell. Then Thandiroq’s world shattered. 

 The purple-furred Satyr took her, took Blair as he stared down Thandiroq, taunting him and appearing joyous as he did so. The Satyr looked at him, spoke to him... only him, “This isn’t over.” That’s when he realized that it was not the first time the foul creature did so. When the trespassers entered, all he heard at first was the threat to kill those present in the tavern. Now he saw clearly at the threat, “It’s a shame we will have to take them out... like before.” It wasn’t directed at the group as a whole, no, it was meant for Thandiroq. Too late he realized, as he was too late to keep them from making off with Blair. Thandiroq followed closely behind the fleeing Satyrs, but as he exited the tavern he saw... nothing. No sign of them, the Satyrs, of Blair, nothing. How he roared at the sky, full of rage and sorrow, he yelled to her, for her, there was no answer. Kneeling in the snow, he slammed his fist into the ground, tears forming in his eyes and ran down his face.

 The remaining guild members recovered him from his broken stupor and took him inside the Green Flagon, promising him they would find Blair, that they would help however they could. He sat there, unable to focus, to speak or think, not until Thalin spoke about the incident at Darkshore. They wanted him, HE wanted him, Xaemovian. They had a name, something to start their search with.

 Thanidroq never thanked them for their kindness and offer of help, he only warned them. Up to this point, Thandiroq had kept his rage in check, for fear of what it would turn him into. Now that his ‘Dalah’kal’ was taken from him, he did not worry about letting it take hold. He would embrace it, use it to hunt the orchestrator of the attack, of the kidnapping of Blair. He no longer feared showing his other side, the monster he could become. 

If only Thandiroq new of the monster he was about to face.

[thandiroq]

Night of Recognition

There was a gathering at the Green Flagon  unlike the usual gatherings, this one was more special, only happening once every few weeks if that. Three members of Dragons and Flagons Inc were being recognized for their valor and heroism in their duties, Rowan, Mel and Zina, all truly deserving of being recognized as equals among the guild. Thandiroq looked on with pride as they took a knee and recited the oath, much as he had done though it felt like a lifetime ago. The words may have changed a bit and Aisleen was the one that had lead the ceremony that night, but still the scene before him brought back the memory. Just as the ceremony had reached its end, Blair called for Thandiroq to stand before her, his eyebrow raised as he looked at the warlock with curiosity in his eyes. What could this be about? He thought as he made his way to the middle of the room to stand before Blair. 

 Thandiroq stared into her eyes, waiting for her to speak, his thoughts going to multiple different places, his heart racing. Then she spoke, she was praising him for his loyalty and dedication towards the guild, his family. Soon a time will come for him to prove his prowess once more, if he so chose. He was being given a chance to become a Champion of the guild. “I’m honored to have this chance. I will do my best to complete this task and I am sure I will be able to with my fellow guild members there to cheer me on and fight by my side.” Thandiroq said while turning to look at members of the guild one by one, his eyes finally falling on Blair. “Again, I am honored and can not wait go on this Adventure.” That night he swelled with pride the likes of which he hadn’t felt before. 

[thandiroq]

♬ - A battle theme for my muse

A second battle theme? the first one was so epic though... well let’s skip the obvious choice and go with something else. Might fit for the entire guild. :D

@blairsoulfire