#hawkstrider

[blue-eyed-banshee]

As many know, Sylvanas doesn't sleep. She just mimics sleeping as a habit.

She always has the same dream; Lirath, Verath and Lireesa.

Lirath is a grown adult and he tells her that he forgives her for what she had done as the banshee queen and to not be mad at Vereesa who indirectly caused his death.

Her parents would tell her how proud they are of her, especially her mother, because she took the mantle with courage and determination all those years to avenge her people.

Her father would be the loving father, full of wisdom and a caring heart, proud of her accomplishments. I'd like to think they're all in Ardenwheald, and when there was a new arbiter, he corrected where the souls went.

She would also see her hawkstrider, Snap running all throughout the land.

Lirath would be talking about how he performs at the amphitheater every night!

[serufu]

Any other former WoW players get an extreme feeling of deja vu or nostalgia when riding Torgal for the first time in ffxiv today and having wolf mount memories flood back to you, or is it just me lol

[thegreatyin]

no yeah precisely. peak mmo mount design will always be a shifty bird that looks vaguely homophobic a-la that one pikmin dog

oh yeah. for the uninitiated ive been completing my popular mmo trifecta by playing a bit of guild wars 2.

this is my absolutely edgy cunty plantgirl. she is 1 year old and a gatekeeper and a hater and god's favorite princess and the most beautiful and interesting girl in the world. her bird is named daisy

[kelzthalassunwhisper]

The Loops of Fruit

Her return home didn't quite match the vision, she had in her mind, of riding upon the saddle of an armored hawkstrider. Instead, she was splayed out along the back of a traveling mercenary's wagon and staring skyward with a dazed look in her eyes.

At the helm of its wooden frame, he sat there with his head ducked down in the crevice of his shoulders. From behind, it gave his shadow a bit more of a menacing and unhappy look. But who could really blame him given the excessive beating of wings, loud and egregious cawing, and a large pecker seeking to scoop the matter from his eyes or ears every time it circled him.

"Incessant creature. Stay back now, honestly!" His frustration made that rigid look project in the spitting image of her father and she brought her arm up and swung downward with force. Her hand made contact in a loud smacking sound as his shoulders twitched from the shock and his head whirled around to see the Lady B'andtherion in a more disheveled state. Her hair that had been held back in a loose tail now had lost any sense of collective restraint as it bared down against her shoulders like a screaming banshee.

"You'reeeeee funny when you get mad. It reminds me of my dad. He can get really fired up and look like an ogre who had its toy taken. Sometimes I can see him like a kid more than a father. It's sad that I'm like the mom some days. Can't remember a time that I got to be like a kid. I mean I was at this party talking about not going to parties and having fun at home in sweatpants. I mean are they wrong?"

The armored mercenary shifted with a hurried shove of the reins from his hand and then swung one of his legs over the side of the wooden footing. He strode around the wagon with such speed, I had forgotten we had stopped. A blink and I'm staring at the sky instead of at him. My legs were pulled on and ... oh.

Feet now settled on the ground, the mercenary is under my arm and I laughed. More profuse squawking is made overhead of us as the bird I was gifted from Greatfather Winterveil insists on keeping its eye on me and seems to respond well when I call him Fruit Loops.

"Fruittttt Looopssssssssss!"

The bird squawked again.

"FRUITTTT LOOPS!"

"Lady B'andtherion, would you please cease with this caterwauling wailing. People are trying to sleep, and I only agreed to bring you back to the estate. You insisted you would pay me a hefty sum, and I certainly hope you meant significant."

Kelz swayed with every step they took. Her arm was held firmly to his side as her head leaned into his shoulder as she began to mumble.

"It mwill be. Just mwask Haldir."

There was a glistening sheen of Kelz's indulgence dangling from the corner of her partially ajar mouth. There was no modesty expensed for this knight in shining armor.

"By the Eternal Sun, woman. You are more animal than lady, that I can assure you!"

"CAW-CAW! SQUAWK!"

"ANYONE PLEASE?! HELP ME WITH THIS!"

At the gates that led into the estate, two elite guards shifted from their station and made their approach towards the pair. Night had long since settled over the landscape. The few magically attuned light posts illuminated the grounds in small patterns of circles. So, the light really only exposed the feet on their pass.

"Mm... Guards, pay the man his dues. Let me walk into the manor unaccompanied. I have a task I must accomplish in this state. Failure to do so will be reported to the Patriarch. Your heiress has spoken!"

Whether or not the guards reciprocated her command was not yet made known. At least not until one guard turned to the mercenary to offer him compensation for his trouble. Errant flapping overhead caused her head to peer up as the small shadow of her new pet grew in size before settling on her plated shoulder.

"Caw-Ca-" The noise was quickly subdued as her left hand rose up to pinch the toucan's beak shut.

"Shh... We need to enter the manor quietly. No nonsense noise."

After speaking to her bird like another understanding individual, she realized her error in her way of thinking and burst into a fit of giggles.

"You don't know what I just said, do you, Fruit Loops? I was suggesting that you had a brain enough to understand me in there. Oh how dumb I have become."

With her sole free hand, she limply reached for the door. But a guard that was on post beside it would assist her in the endeavor, perplexed whether or not to remain posted or follow the heiress into the main foyer.

"I got it," Kelz said as if reading their thoughts and body language. "This bird is in my capable care. And no one must attack it or attempt to detain it. It is now an honorary B'andtherion pet and you will be fired if you do! So you better listen!"

A short laugh leaves her as she stumbles into one of the many corridors that lined their house. Her body was exposed to the wall mounted magical sconces as she hobbled onward in the direction of the wing where her room resided.

"So Fruit Loops, you have to be good while you are here. That means only pooping on staff when they are bugging me when I try to sleep or circling my father's head while he's angry and squawking. We're a team now and I so can't wait to see how you fit in."

"My lady?" A servant had emerged from their room and sought to appease her every need. "Would you like me to escort you to your room?" Her tone was so mousey, almost as if she worried if squeaking any louder would dock her pay. Her eyes narrow as she stares at the servant before becoming resolute in her posture.

"Very well. But we are making a detour to my father's study first. You will not speak a word about it. Do not tell the Patriarch that this was my doing, but rather that of Greatfather Winterveil. And that he has to abide by holiday spirit to let my pet stay. That's the rules and he promised to be nice. I should have asked Greatfather Winterveil if my father was on the nice list. But he's probably on the naughty list for firing that guardsmen Selithar Duskblade. And clobbering Allasticus. And breaking that table... And... being mean to Lady Naralinthe Emberdawn."

Her focus lessened a bit as the blurs in her vision made the lights blend together as they walked. She didn't even hear the servant answer her command. And was perplexed by the sudden silence of her assistant.

"Well don't be quiet now. I'm getting the chills like there's a ghost abound. Please."

It was a near plea, and the servant - was only happy to acquiesce as she nodded vehemently. "Right, my Lady. What is it you want to discuss or talk about?"

"I don't know... Just tell me you will listen to me fully and take care of my wishes. And then talk to me about your Winter Veil holiday?"

"Of course, my Lady. I do hear you fully and will see to it that you arrive to your father's study. Which... we are about to arrive in a few steps. Was there something you wanted to do there?"

"Yes, that's Fruit Loops new home." She said with a finger crookedly soaring through the air towards the ceiling. "I think he will enjoy a high place on one of father's bookshelves. Overlooking the study like a multi-colored phoenix flamboyantly flapping its wings and greeting my father in the morning! I think he will come to appreciate my winged friend."

"My Lady, I-" The servant caught herself as if briefly forgetting her station, then promptly silenced herself from speaking further. Though the sound didn't escape Kelz's notice.

"What now? I assure you it will all be okay. My father wants me happy you know. And he promised he would do better. For all of our sakes. Oh, I could so go for some pancakes."

The servant smiled dutifully and made a mental point to arrange that for the B'andtherion daughter. "My Lady, we have arrived at your father's study."

Though, the servant didn't make an effort to open the doors. Instead, it was Kelz's doing as the wooden gates to her father's sanctum opened wide by the strength of his daughter's ambitious resolve.

"Fruit Loopssss!"

Her voice merrily sang as the toucan tried to speak with its clamped shut beak as wings flapped erratically at Kelz.

"Oh right, I'm sorry." The hand on the bird released as it squawked and bludgeoned its nose against her ear roughly in annoyance. But it was loving too, she reasoned. Again, those wings flapped aggressively as it soared up towards the top of the bookcase just as Kelz had prophesized with the intoxicated workings of her thoughts and visions.

"Sleep tight, Fruit Loops!" She declared before turning on her heel and shutting the doors behind her. The lights fell away in the study as Fruit Loops settled on the bookcase's top ledge. In the hall, Kelz stumbled a few steps to the side of the servant awaiting further direction.

"Fetch me a guard. And request he dress himself as Greatfather Winterveil. Ask him to carry me to my bed and tell me what a good girl I have been this year."

"---M-M-My Lady, are you sure?!" The servant's voice was becoming quite annoying as Kelz irritably replied.

"Yes. And the pancakes, make sure they are there before we arrive!"

"Of course!" She snapped at an octave higher than Kelz had heard it before. With her escort dismissed to fulfill her wishes, Kelz swayed side to side before sliding along the wall into a seated position. Her hands coming to settle on her palms at her sides as she tried to hold herself up from leaning too far to her right. Her head felt so heavy, and she enjoyed closing her eyes and just humming playfully while she waited.

It would be a few moments later, but her head would lift to see a shadowy silhouette galivanting his way towards her. This guard was hard to make out as her eyes squinted to try to see past the shadows on his face. A hand took to raising on its own volition as her pointer finger lifted to point at him.

"Are you Greatfather Winterveil?" She called as she tried to sit up and felt her legs drift further away on the floor.

But there was no answer given to her as she watched the man take to a knee beside her. There was a gentleness she had never seen before on his features as she took note of his beard and face. Recognition was functioning at about half capacity as she knew who she was looking at but couldn't account for the word or name.

Without her asking of it, the man's arms shifted forward. One sliding beneath the base of her knees while his other slid behind the center of her back as she was compressed in against him and herself. She felt so small in his grip while glancing up at his broad shoulders. A hand raised to his chest as a sadness took hold of her unexpectedly.

"You look like the hero our world needs." She spoke lightly as tears christened the edges of her eyes. Her focus became increasingly lost as she felt him begin his progression down the hall towards her room. Idly, she rocked in his arms as he hesitated on any form of reply to her. But eventually, he would find his voice only to have her cut it off again with an impulsive interjection.

"What put me on the nice list, anyway, Greatfather Winterveil?" She would ask, as her tears ran down her cheeks in the curve of her cheek.

Her father shifted his arms so that he drew her closer to him before speaking.

"Just by being you, my child." His head pressed unexpectedly against hers as there was a tightness forming in her throat. "Now let's get you to bed."

More tears slid down her cheeks as an unbearable discomfort grew in her chest. She felt nothing of the sort for having failed so many people and others so often. Why did everything just seem to escape her in this single second? The unsteady tremble in her body began as her weeps carried through the halls of the Estate before fading to silence once more.

The light to her room was on as the servants had already prepared her bed and stood at the ready to help remove her armor as her father carried her in. Gently he eased her down onto the mattress and leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. A sign that he was glad that she returned home safe and sound. But his ever-present look of duty returned as he retreated from his daughter's sanctuary to see what other chaos lurked in his home. Despite her insistence that it was to be kept a secret; a little birdy might have let that slide. Or perhaps that was what she wanted to believe as her head sank into the comfort of her pillow. Every second was consciousness drifting in and out as the weight from her body became less and less until the light left the room yet again. And once the darkness took over, soon too did she fall asleep.

@grumpyoldfker - Dad thanks for putting me to bed. :)

@allasticus - Brother, I got a bird!

@themadamelioness - Thank you for inviting me out to a great time! <3

@succulent-tart - thanks for the rp event :D

@thehopelessyouth - you were the reason Dad was on the naughty list!

@kalren-daelish - not sure if you were watching me drunkenly stumbling home, but tagging in case you wanna be!

[mikaila-orchard]

Tally with her hawkstrider

Snrk! Perfect

[busyfish]

i'm cooking a bit with this idea of Koryne sneaking into the village they were born in and then crossing the water over to their study in Eversong. Zanza wants to learn more about Silvermoon and while Koryne will definitely be noticed in the City, the outskirts might be do-able. I'm sort of thinking we'll dress up like this and ride hawkstriders to look like locals and sneak in

[eladrinthegrape]

Seeking the Secrets #1

Ghostlands, 22.12, 17:50 PM The elven duo of the varying liveliness sent the rental hawkstriders back, once they crossed the border following the Dread Scar. The travel so far had been a quiet one. Pale yet alive and purple counterpart of the pair felt the red gaze of the other oftentimes. As the undead elf of bulkier build was quite the master of letting his presence felt, whenever he wished to do so.

"Aiming to carve a hole through the backside of my back with this constant peering, Aerdis? Going to make a symmetrical one to the healed wound?" purple half-elf asked, once her patience worn thin. Her voice came of squirkier than she planned thanks to the cold wind biting on the tips of her ears and nose.

An echoing, low chuckle came from the man as they continued to walk.

"I was simply being cautious, coffeepot. The wind is strong. We wouldn't want to see it making you airborne like a kite, would we? Worry not, I'll catch you if it happens~"

"Ha ha. Comedic genius must be your new undeath life's calling."

The pair continued their trekking with small banter in between stretched silence. The male, Aerdis, was occassionally scanning their surroundings. In case if they would earn something's curiosity, or a potential ambush. The half-elf, Eladrin, was glancing at a small map of the area while trying to locate the landmarks they needed.

"Say Aerdis, you haven't mentioned about how you..are risen. Will there be one angry necromancer of sorts waiting to beat both of us with brooms and many-a-boney things?" Eladrin asked, her voice was monotone, yet a slight veiled worry was lurking beneath. Despite her attempt of asking it like a joke. Afterwards she took a sharp left turn without actually looking at the ground. The shift on the surface made her step to slip, only to be quickly yanked by the arm before she would fall.

"You might need new prescriptions on your glasses. Careful with where you step." the man said, his barritone tone was playful enough to soften the scolding. Once he was sure the female would stand securely, he let go of her arm.

"Answer to your question is.. Hmm hmm.. A mystery? I could be bribed to talk about it, if you ever manage to win a hand of cards against me. Mayhaps in a camp-setting? Ah the possibilities.." he said, increasing the jarring playfulness as he spoke. Hearing a scoff from the female, he chuckled.

"You had few months to continue living, surely you must have hones your skills. What? Finding your first 'romance' surely haven't kept you away from..learning things." he added with a tiniest bit of jab. This made the elf to glance at him as they walked, as if he was hit by a boundary. She haven't talked about her relationship status apart from notifying him he had one. Most of his knowledge came from the forsaken Barlow or the Chronomage Cinthel. Fellow mage asked him to steer clear from the topic, despite knowing full well of the male's tendencies of pushing and prodding for information.

Following few hours of walking had minor excitements. At first, a geist or two caught their scent, which Aerdis disposed them with a small flex of his display of swordsmanship. He had an unnecessarily big grin as he done so, even had a flair to his swordstrikes. Almost as if he was taunting Eladrin, whom was getting really fast at her ice-lances. He wouldn't want to be impaled by them, for sure.

Second excitement and the last of the short list was one sneaky ambushing spider. Aerdis noted Eladrin's distaste towards the creatures. Fair enough, she almost died to a Nerubian's dirty tactics, which counted as a spider with extra steps.

Eventually the pair stood in front of a small crypt. It's design was elegant. From top to bottom, it started like a triangle which widened and turned into a rectangle. Thin pillars were standing next to its entrance, and they were equally carved alongside of the outer walls, mirroring. There were a total of ten of them, including the ones near the door. Each pillar had roses with vine-like stems spiralling around, carved with a similiar stone.

Given the Rosewalker's lineage, it wasn't a suprise to see the building to have a medium size.

On top of the door, there was some sentences carved and filled with a clear resin, trapping some blue shimmering enchantement dusts within.

[Rosewalker; be elegant, as your roots veiled sharp beneath the gaze of others.]

"As pompous as ever. Suprising to see they didn't add mentions of light, foiled court-games nor their disdain about.." Aerdis started to speak, taking potshots at the whole lineage to keep Eladrin's nerves in check. He then tried to push, then pull the door. Neither of them worked, yet it didn't feel as a jammed door. There was a lack of keyhole on top of its stubbornity. The first puzzle.

Eladrin fixed her eyeglassess before bringing her hands in front of her mouth to warm them up with her breath. A thoughtful expression was on her cold-kissed face. It granted some pinkness to her cheeks, Aerdis noted to himself, as he recognized the focus. He wouldn't be heard unless the purple one's focus were to interrupt.

Purple eyes locked on the sentence, unblinkingly, until the cold wind caused her to blink to keep the stinging feel away.

"Roots veiled sharp.. Roses have thorns that are sharp.. However a literal deciphering wouldn't work, probably." Eladrin mumbled as she tried to make sense of the sentence. A few moments passed before standing still proved to be difficult due to the shiver.

"Perhaps..a small camping is in order." she said, this time looking at a very smug looking Sin'dorei face. He seemed to utilize the wait time to conjure a small bubble with a tent in, complete with fire-crystal campfire, even had a teapot on it waiting to be boiled.

"Perhaps~" he said, after doing an over-the-top bow which made Eladrin crack a small snicker, as they stepped into the bubble-ward. It was pleasant to get a cover from the wind. Closed quarters kind of setting was a little offputting for the half-elf, however it was the lesser of two evil.

It would be a long thinking progress while the red haired elf lounging around, indeed.

[eluviannaa]

During Elu's time at Netherlight, she became acquainted with an Ethereal merchant, Zarath'anar. So far, he's been more of a plot device to support both moments of unreliable narrator and undercurrent bits of multidimensional intrigue/timey-wimeyness. But it's starting to evolve...

. ⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂✧

A Curious Quill

Venedict had been in Zarath’anar’s possession for centuries, a strange artifact that even his more open-minded patrons hesitated to claim. Originally crafted by an accomplished Thalassian magister and poet, it was enchanted with critique magic, emphasizing meticulous word choice and flawless phrasing.

“The quill, simple yet elegant, boasts an impressive Eclipsian Hawkstrider feather, offering a subtle nod to the object’s defiant spirit. The dark plume curves seamlessly into a silver ferrule, meeting a violet, eye-shaped gem at the junction. Its nib is tipped with a small, star-shaped stone to prevent pesky ink spills between notation sessions. The gem’s observant facets lend a curious charm to one’s writing, blinking patiently in approval or narrowing alongside practical critique.”

While not outright off-putting to its creator, its overly exacting nature and eccentric behavior made it less appealing over time. And so, as artistic artifacts fell out of favor for more utilitarian enchantments, it would continue to go unclaimed.

Zarath’anar described the item as a 'probability amalgam,' an artifact capable of threading multiple dimensions. These anomalies, moreover, could account for much of its peculiar behavior: splitting into mirror images, each drafting their own version of the same text, striking repeated words or lackluster phrases, debating itself in the margins, and adding cryptic footnotes.

Despite its chaotic nature, Elu doesn’t seem to take its quirks personally. Yet its tendency to buck in her hand at random can test even her measured patience. But the quill often redeems itself with impressive functionality, such as automatically indexing documents, creating cross-references, and archiving extradimensional copies. However, it remains frustratingly particular, refusing certain inks and parchments for “formality reasons.”

-

✦ Added to Elu's Character Notes.

[slackergami]

Do you think you could draw Sylvanas and Jaina riding her hawkstrider, Snap?

I could 🤔 for a price ofc huehue :^)))

[vg-bird-reviews]

Hawkstriders and Tallstriders from World of Warcraft!

10/5

Love their dinosaur swag!!! I like that first guy a lot

[unpleasant-ghoul]

Guess what, fuckers?

Sleep is for the weak, TROLLS are for the strong, and I am NOT fucking weak today.

So here I am again. With the same troll, Marhhaiji the Witch doctor. Now with colors. And a magpie that's actually a magpie and not a blob. And longer arms. And some bullshit attempt at shadows and lights, I just sorta slap them wherever, no desire to learn the proper ways. (also, those feathers? Not an honoring/imitating a Loa thing. "Killed some elf AND their hawkstrider at some point, still proud enough of it now to keep showing it off" thing)

[blue-eyed-banshee]

Many people tend to forget Snap, Sylvanas' hawkstrider in life. I would have LOVED if they made a reference to him in the game!

[zariasona]

DWC Feb 18 - Casualty

@daily-writing-challenge

Midafternoon in the Emberspirit Manor, and Zariasona had burst into the foyer and slammed the door behind her. With her back against the doors, she rested her head against them and for the first time felt like she could truly breath.

One of the servants of the house saw her and blinked rapidly in surprise. "Young Mistress! I wasn't expecting you to be-"

"Shh! Please, Don't say anything. I need quiet. Please, I beg you." Zariasona's eyes were watering by the mere second.

The servant saw the despair in her eyes, and even though she wanted to help her, she merely nodded. "Yes, Young Mistress. Your secret is safe with me."

"I knew I could count on you." Zaria whispered. With that, she quickly walked into the sitting room knowing fully well that it was rarely used. It was always ready for guests, even if they were few and far between. She grabbed one of the books of the wall and sat before the fireplace on the sofa.

Hours passed, and she had managed to still remain silent in the sitting room. Suddenly, there was a loud pounding upon the door and one of the servants was quick to make their way.

A loud gasp. "Lord Coldstrider, I-" One of the servants had tried to speak but was abruptly cut off.

"Where is my wife?" The familiar, male voice bellowed out. Zaria slowly shut the book and set it upon the coffee table as she lifted herself to her feet. She wanted to move, but she waited. A calculated woman, she was even in the face of her deepest fears.

"Ah! Lord Coldstrider. Glad to see you here. What can I do for you?" This voice was also male, but one she knew well and brought her immense comfort without any hesitation. From the sounds of it, he had descended partially down the stairs into the foyer to speak down to him. "I thought you were with Zari at home. She's certainly not here." Based on how easily the words rolled off his tongue, it was hard to say if he knew or not that she was here.

"Don't play coy with me, old man. She's here, I know she is." Lord Coldstrider said, bellowing at the man upon the stairs.

Only then did Zariasona enter into the foyer with her hands trembling. "I am here." She said softly, her head low to avoid everyone's gaze.

The man upon the stairs knew Zariasona well, and could see how her hands trembled. It didn't take a hawkstrider breeder to know she was afraid of the man who just burst into the home.

"Zaria, darling, we have to go home. We have important matters to discuss." Lord Coldstrider soon crossed across the foyer to get to Zariasona.

"I don't think you will, Kan'this. You see, I can see what is going on here." His gaze shifted to Zaria as he spoke. "The sword." Zaria nodded and turned on a dime back into the sitting room as he continued to spoke. "You see, No one hurts my daughter. Especially my eldest daughter."

Zariasona came back into the room with the large sword, and the man came down the rest of the steps. "Here you are, Ann'da." She said weakly.

Kan'this Coldstrider felt the fear rising in his chest. He had tried to turn to run, but the door had already been locked. How did that happen? The damned mages in this house.

"Zaria, my darling daughter. We'll take care of this, together. And if anyone asks? It was an unfortunate camping trip for Lord Coldstrider this past weekend." Verethar Emberspirit said to her.

Hearing her fathers words, she found her strength once more. For the first time in what felt like eons, she could stand tall with her head held high again. "Of course, Ann'da. My word is my bond."

Kan'this didn't have the chance to run, or to save himself. The last thing he saw was Zariasona charging at him with blade in hand.

[chronicallyhaughty]

Bird in the Hand

“A survey of the runestones is long overdue, we are all in agreement on this.” Rommath nodded, and though his mouth was covered like always, Hal just knew he was smirking under there. “As this matter is intrinsically tied to the safety of our people, there is nobody else I would trust more on this mission,” Lor’themar continued, looking at Hal so earnestly, and Hal would ordinarily agree with the sentiment, but… Asking him to accompany a mage as they survey the runestones felt a bit too close to babysitting for his comfort.

[Halduron/Aethas, NSFW, AO3, Ko-fi]

Okay, here we go! Multichapter fic attempt! I have an outline, just gotta get the work done!!! (Beware – further kinks to be added!)

——————————

One never really gets used to being dumped. Halduron Brightwing has his eyes closed as he draws a deep breath, smelling hay and feathers and bird droppings, holds the air in his lungs for one moment, another… then sighs all of it out. A beak nudges his head, ruffling his hair affectionately.

‘I just don’t see us working long term,’ she had said.

Halduron opens his eyes to stare at the barding of his hawkstrider – his trusty Cerila, so named by his youngest sister – and his fingers laced through the straps. Feeling around, it’s a bit loose by the bridle so he tightens a buckle there before grabbing the reins and leading her outside. Her bright white plumage shines in the low sun.

They had been bold words for a woman who only gave him a month to try to prove himself. She hadn’t liked that he didn’t have much time for her. Well, maybe she simply had too much time, spending it all doing nothing to help anybody. Why he’d ever thought to try dating a socialite he’s not sure, but whatever. No use crying over spilled wine, as the saying goes.

He knows better than to get invested, he thinks firmly to himself as he mounts up and they make their way out of the courtyard, nodding at Oninath as he passes him and his recruits. This is why he typically tends towards renting partners by the hour, rather than try to keep them interested in spite of his many forays into Eversong. Speaking of…

“A survey of the runestones is long overdue, we are all in agreement on this.”

Rommath nodded, and though his mouth was covered like always, Hal just knew he was smirking under there.

“As this matter is intrinsically tied to the safety of our people, there is nobody else I would trust more on this mission,” Lor’themar continued, looking at Hal so earnestly, and Hal would ordinarily agree with the sentiment, but…

Asking him to accompany a mage as they survey the runestones felt a bit too close to babysitting for his comfort. At least the mage in question seemed as unhappy with the assignment as Hal was, even if Aethas Sunreaver was wearing that awful cowl, hiding his face. His body language told a clear story to anyone who cared enough to look: he was uncomfortable. To be standing before the three of them, to have been chosen for this… busywork; whatever his reason, they would likely have that much in common to fuel conversation during the trip. Or stop it dead at every turn, more likely.

And so here Halduron is now, dismounting at Thuron’s Livery and waving at the young woman who jogs up to take Cerila’s reins as he unhooks the saddlebags one by one. He is to leave his rather conspicuous warstrider behind in favor of a more drab individual provided by the stable master. This mission does require if not stealth, at the very least some discretion. He nods his thanks to the young woman who is already talking to Cerila in low, soothing tones and grabs his gear, slinging it over his own shoulder. He gets one last scratch in next to her beak before he lets the woman lead the animal away. No need for the bird to see Hal with another, after all.

He finds his reluctant companion standing awkwardly some ways away from the paddock by the main livery building, watching the hawkstriders within. The birds are of good stock, Perascamin Thuron providing many young sin’dorei with their first mounts as they first venture beyond the Thalassian borders. While not trained to bear heavy armor or see active combat, Thuron’s birds are well-known to have even temperaments, even if all hawkstriders are naturally inclined to do combat with would-be predators.

Aethas is dressed in simple adventuring-type clothes, looking like any fresh-faced mage just out of training, and with his face uncovered it is plain to see that he is apprehensive – far more so than the mission details warrant, as a matter of fact. Two young hawkstriders want to inspect the same tuft of grass, one of them shoving the other aside, causing it to throw its head back with a loud squawk and Aethas about jumps a foot into the air, clutching his staff close to his chest. Ah. Hal grins...

[Ko-fi]

[sheizara]

A couple of small golden pheasants pecked at a handful of birdseed she’d tossed out on the balcony, their feathers gleaming in the bright Eversong sun. Shei frowned a bit as she watched them from the large, round pillow pouf she’d thrown on the floor and had been using as a mattress. They were pretty little things, and their feathers would make gorgeous fletching. 

Her bow was across the room, and even though she tried to move slowly they scattered as soon her foot came in contact with an empty wine bottle that immediately rolled in a noisy circle. She took a minute to mentally curse the mess before reminding herself that shooting a bird on a balcony would be a little unsporting. 

There was a loud part of her that rebelled against cleaning this manor — how many times had she been on her knees in this very room, scrubbing the floors until her hands cracked and bled only to see Lady Sylmae toss a glass of wine onto the tile so she’d have to start over? 

It was hers now. She was the Lady, against all odds. 

Still, it was hard to ignore that she’d fallen into an unhelpful pattern with the place. It was easy to do nothing. There was safety in not making any decisions, but not making any decisions had led her here — a messy room, a house in dire need of repairs and tending to, and nothing much to show for it but tenants growing slowly more restless.

Something had to shift. She was going to have to be the one to shift it. 

Eversong was as beautiful to ride through as it had ever been, the estate’s stable hands had at least continued to take care of the dreamrunners that had fallen into her ownership when she’d claimed her titles and the horned courser handled the terrain more smoothly than any hawkstrider would have. It was on her list to find an appropriate way to thank them and anyone else who had not neglected the animals in her absence. 

Finding enjoyment in the journey helped set her nerves at ease, especially as the hour it took to get to her destination flew by. 

As soon as the small, but still stately, elvish manor house she’d been told to look for came into view they returned with a vengeance. Maybe the dreamrunner would bolt, and she’d have to busy herself with having to catch it again instead — it wouldn’t, her elvish command to stay would keep it compliant. Maybe no one would be home, and she’d have to turn around and come back later. 

A gentle chime sounded inside the house as soon as she hit the top stair on the way to knock on the door and a little alert rune flared on the frame. She hadn’t come this far to only come this far, and against her better judgment she continued to cross the small distance left between her and the cheerful violet welcome mat. 

The door opened before she could even put a hand on it. Pyraelia stared at her from behind her elegant spectacles, lilac eyebrow raised in an unspoken question, “Lady Tel’vaiel, this is a surprise.” 

At least it was her. Sheizara smiled her most charming, sheepish smile at the scholar, “Yeah. Sorry. Do you have a minute to talk?”

[kharrisdawndancer]

DWC May 2023 - Day 6 - Gleaming/Hurt - Tinnaire

Tinnaire looked over the eye she’d found in her pocket-pouch. The iris was a deep russet, and the glasswork was strikingly well done--not just paint on porcelain, the cornea had been placed on as clear and domed as true-life. Subtle vessels had been both painted and pulled in the glass. The pupil was clearly a true absence not simply painted on as a circle.

It was, oddly, humanoid. Not feline, nor raptor, nor equine in nature. Not from a bear nor a lynx. No hawkstrider or even dragonoid. It was weighted, and slightly bigger than an elven eye would be in her hand. It felt solid. She glanced up at the others gathered around as they conversed and recuperated. Tinnaire went back to the inspection of the orb.

It hadn’t been imbued with magic to appear elven. It did not glow from within--in fact there was no magic at all in it. Subtle fire magic didn’t damage it while she held it between magically warmed fingertips, but neither did the material repel the magic. No fel radiated from it. It was inert.

Just glass.

It stared back at her.

She huffed a little laugh and slid it back into her pouch, fingers trailing over it before she snapped the cover closed. Tinn rejoined the conversations with the other mercenaries, but still she wondered: how had it gotten in her pocket?

@daily-writing-challenge