#phoenix highguard

[ahvie-voidsinger]

[RP] Same song, second verse, a little bit darker and little bit worse

The night should have been cold. It usually was cold. It is supposed to be cold this far north, this close to the mountains. Although she probably never felt it for long enough to admit it, she remembered what a midnight breeze felt like. A refreshing caress upon her face in contrast to the near-constant Inner Fire she once drew upon to channel the Light.

She shivered, and not because she was cold. She stopped feeling cold months ago. Years ago. The Light. Sunwell guide her dreams, she thought she could remember what it tasted like to draw on the purified stream of arcane life to help her friends. Only now, amid everything seeming to go wrong around her, that memory was as distant as the nostalgia for a fruity wine she'd shared with... with... her friends. Light, it was a funny thing.

The pale-skinned elf shivered in her shroud of shadows and dimly glowing blue hair, not from discomfort or unease or fear. She knew better than to let those seeds of emotion bloom for long. Lor'danel was still... too painful. The blanket of midnight deeper than a cloudy evening upon the sea had wrapped itself around her as a second nature, a companion, a stray kitten longing for purpose. She might have done more than just dabble in the shadow and the void in her time with the Highguard, but she never claimed to understand it. Iggy warned her about giving into the dark as opposed to the more knowable flame within.

A flame was elemental, primal, but studied and basic. A void, a sentient emptiness, however, was as inscrutable as the reasons why this Light-forsaken war even began. Why it continued. That same conscious quilt of flowing inky violet wreathed around her in a reassuring embrace, warming her in a way that still made her shiver. She knew she should not enjoy it, but a grain in her mind was distictly, begrudgingly aware that she did indeed enjoy her her condition. Or, at least, its silver lining.

Breathing out a sigh, she shook her head slightly, crouched atop a snowladen branch deep in the mountain slope brush, but mere meters from the lonely campfire she'd prepared between both sides. Here, in no-mans-land, only the spies and scouts dared tread. And, maybe, kindred souls who were sleepwalking in a waking dream of days long past when a bouncy, cheerful, short elf in bright crimson silks would ferry food and camaraderie between the commoners of both factions, oblivious to the war.

She had hoped that Vyndoriel would find her missive and maps, and... yet, she also hoped deep down that other souls would dare to shirk the division and distrust that had rent Azeroth asunder worse than any grumpyface dragon aspect could have. Any soul brave enough to risk stepping into the unknown to share soup and break bread under the sky -- the only thing yet untainted by this tragedy of a whirlwind engulfing them all.

Ahvie waited, and watched with unblinking, glowing cerulean eyes that Finryx might once have pointed out as becoming of a voidtouched Ebon; eyes that still caused Vyndoriel and Adriel to instinctively reach for their weapon before hearing her voice marred by the reverb of the void; shimmering azure orbs that once were green to have easily marked her place alongside Iggy, only to now produce anger and disappointment. She didn't blame them for their reactions, their judgment. It was well-founded. She had been reckless, curious, stupid and naive in her hubris, and invoked the attention of the very ethereals that had nearly stolen Alleria and her ren'dorei nutjobs from free will.

Ahvie watched with hope, curiosity and wistful nostalgia as her void-enhanced vision granted her nightsight of the approaching armored blood elf. Unfortunately, or perhaps understandably, the familiar young woman beyond the barren clearing stopped short of exiting the Horde encampment entirely, and the void elf's ears twitched several times.

"a FrIeNd or EnEmY?" the shroud around her asked as it pulsed around her tight black leather catsuit.

Ahvie shook her head, her thoughts forming in her mind's eye as a telepathic bond with the symbiotic and sentient voidcloak the old gods had gifted her with. Was it really alive, or was it her own mind conversing with itself? "Friend. Don't you remember her? That's Fey Fey, one of the first and only Highguard to not immediately see me as an enemy."

The voidcloak around her rippled, her body warmed from the inky mass as suredly as if she were beside that unoccupied campfire beyond. It wafted quietly in the breeze in response. "wOnT yOu SaY hElLo?"

Ahvie risked a smiled and snorted. "That would only put her in danger. We're on a mission tonight."

The needles of the frosted pine jingled lightly to her shadow-enhanced (or corrupted?) ears, but the feminine and childlike drawl of her voidcloak was unmistakably clear in her head. "hMmMmmm... tHe OnE wItH fIrE eYeS. yOu LiKe HiM..."

It was a statement, not a question, and Ahvie huffed, reluctant to admit it. Having a bond with this outcast of the void comforted her at times to know that she and it had something in common, but she could hide nothing from it. The voidcloak rustled again, a childlike giggle in her cognizance, blossoming as though she only just remembered. Even her memory was no longer infallible, and she often worried how much of her unique position in SI:7 was being exploited by N'Zoth.

"bOtH oUtCaSts, BOTH LIKE US," and giggling descended into a chittering that Ahvie was grateful to be masked partially by the whipping winds at this altitude.

"He has a familiar bonded to him, too, yeah. And yet we don't want this war. We're trying to keep the bloodshed to a minimum on both sides," Ahvie replied, whether to herself or to her voidcloak was unclear.

The chittering abated, and the cloak settled in around her body, framing it snugly, as though hugging her reassuredly. She got used to that months ago, as it had saved her ass many times in her dawning and growing experience as a double-agent. Or was it a triple-agent? The warmth of the empty void was... was... was it supposed to be comforting? At least it didn't get grabby with her chest or thighs.

"HoW aRe YoU sUrE tHiS iSn'T wHaT N'zzzzzzoth WaNtS?"

She'd considered that, too. And oft wondered if it would be better if she ended her own life rather than not know if she was secretly a pawn or sleeper agent to the great deep. But, she often reached the same conclusion as now -- when Fey Fey turned back to the tents with a sad look in her glowing gold eyes -- that it was better to live and keep trying to do good with the cards she was dealt. She had brokered alliances, trade deals and friendships between factions before. She could be patient, and hoped against hope that her friends had not grown as corrupted as she had during this costly and intensely personal war.

Whatever the cost, however, Vyn and M had to be informed. Ahvie oft weighed the risks of investigating whether the interim head of SI:7 operations really was Maiev, but time and again decided against it. She already was being closely watched by Alliance brass... or, at least, as closely as those clumsy kaldorei could. They trusted her enough to give her a modicum of power and freedom, and those were two gifts she dared not gamble with. Especially now, with the whispers in her head.

Ahvie suddenly grinned and chuckled to herself as Fey Fey disappeared back behind a tent flap.

"dEfInE iRoNy," came the childlike but girlish voice.

"A servant of neither the void nor the alliance nor the horde, exchanging and trading information between what likely once was former jailor and former prisoner."

"wHeN wE tOo ArE uNsUrE oF wHiCh We ArE."

Ahvie gave her cloak a tug, wrapping it around her back and neck as she relaxed... grinning goofily as she once had -- And quickly perked up as a shadowy figure not ten paces behind her roost approached the trunk of the pine tree in utter silence. She could simply *feel* him at the edge of her mind. Unwilling to give the illidari the satisfaction or belief of having 'won' this game of cat and mouse, Ahvie raised her voice only just so, the slight echo in her voice mimicking that of her visitor's warchief.

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

A gruff male voice as sharp as a glaive fresh from a wound replied, wry amusement in its edge. "I only just dropped my demon's shroud of concealment. I did not want to alarm you."

Ahvie pursed her lips and sulked, grateful he had not yet rounded the trunk to see her pouty expression. Her voidcloak rustled in her ear: "tHiNk ThAts JuSt A bOaSt?"

She grinned and nodded silently, waiting for Vyndoriel to come into view. Her partner in crime had arrived.

She risked an old saying, "For the night is dark,"

To which a dark, not-quite-sinister chuckle emerged from the demon hunter below her, "And full of terrors... like us. Ready to talk business?"

[kektrain]

Found this thing on Argus today.

[astaraelsong]

lera in the pontiff knight’s set from ds3

[officialtoa]

BOOTH 8: THE HIGHGUARD

Sprite Darter Petting!

Price: 2 berries per fae. They drive a hard bargain. Feed directly.

Wholesome fun for all ages, featuring:

Skittle, Squigfriend of Cyonos 

Rig, Squigfriend of Drake 

Kita, Squigfriend of Arianiie 

Pina, Squigfriend of Scorvash 

Peachbloom, Squigfriend of Aellandiel 

Omni, Squigfriend of Xyena

Full Booth Menu: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Via7oOt4Ym2TheIqaSxINcv0qoMvIfGtd_hkzI-LlSU/edit

[GHI/TRP3:E] Toys

Treantplush: NEW! Eversong Tender Plushie: Proceeds go towards the Teldrassil Refugee Fund. This plushie smells of the fresh woodlands, yet is very soft.

Elven Runestone: Proceeds go towards the restoration of Eversong Woods. Features: When squeezed, the rune glows.

Armoured Silver Covenant Hippogryph Plushie: Proceeds go towards the Silver Covenant. When squeezed, the plushie chirps.

Belore Plushie: Proceeds benefit the Diocese of Quel'danas and their mission to restore Sunwell Grove to a center of Thalassian holy worship. Features: When squeezed, plushie emits a glow and is warm.

Eversong Lynx: All proceeds go towards the Dawn's Roost Orphanage, which provides education and housing to orphaned high elves and half-elves. Features: When squeezed, the plushie mews.

Phoenix Plushie: All proceeds go towards the Rebuild the Highlands charity. Features: A low, warm glow emanates from the plushie when it is squeezed.

Golden Dragonhawk: All proceeds go towards the Arathi Relief Fund, which provides food, supplies and aid to the displaced men, women and children of the Highlands. Features: When squeezed, the plushie squeaks.

Quel'dorei Steed: All proceeds go towards the Thalassian Cultural Centre, and a plushie is donated to the orphanage per plushie purchased. Features: When squeezed, the plushie neighs.

Silver Dragonhawk: All proceeds go towards the Arathi Relief Fund, which provides food, supplies and aid to the displaced men, women and children of the Highlands. Features: When squeezed, the plushie squeaks.

Mana-Wyrm: All proceeds go towards the Third War Veterans Association. Features: Iridescent, shimmering scales.

Patchwork Lynx: All proceeds go towards providing non-profit programmes, the homeless and the destitute with blankets for winter. Features: Made of recycled, donated cloth bits and buttons. When squeezed, the plushie mews.

Quel'blocks (Quel'blox) are hand-painted toy blocks made from Eversong wood, in the style of Thalassian architecture. Children are encouraged to build a place for their charity plushies to live.

Replica Thori'dal, the Stars' Fury: An easy-to-draw replica of the legendary bow, Thori'dal! It comes with its own quiver of arrows, which harmlessly burst into sparks upon striking a target. All proceeds go towards Hooked on Phoenix, an organization oriented around teaching elven children.

Leyrunner Plushies: All proceeds go towards the Teldrassil Refugee Fund. Features: When you squeeze the plushie, it neighs!

 "Night's Eye Company" - Products & Services

Contact Xyena A. Galaeth (IG: Xyena - Alliance) if interested in the following:

Custom handmade perfume bottles with a custom made perfume liquid ( IC Item) 

Bottle Shapes: Tear, Leaf, Round, Square, Horn, Crescent, Heart, Flower

Scent: Custom to order

Price: 5 gold

Critter / Pet / Mount Care & Products ( IC items) 

Different snacks & chewables

Small and big toys, handmade beds, leashes, collars

First aid care

Grooming

Nail & horn trimming

Price: 5 gold for each service/ product.

Dinosaur Handmade Plushies : Raptor, Direhorn, Devilsaur, Stegodon, Pterrordax. 10 gold.

Gummy Wyrm Candies: Tons of flavors! Five gold per bag. 5 gold per bag

The Silverguard 

The Silverguard is offering several new items this year!

Bonbon Bun Bot (35 silver): A mechanical companion that dispenses sweets! All proceeds go towards Hooked on Phoenix, an organization oriented around teaching elven children.

Violet Vortex (10 gold): A rich blend of firewine and frostberry wine, making for a cool, fruity drink that burns on the way down. All proceeds go toward the restoration of Eversong Woods.

Taste of Quel'thalas 

The Silverguard has drummed up many fine treats this year!

Magical Treats:

Arcane Satin Chocolate Phoenix: A tiny phoenix, molded from delicious milk chocolate satin creme with a light sprinkling of arcane dust. The dust is multicolored, giving the phoenix a fiery sparkle; from yellows, to pinks, oranges, and reds!

Dark Dragonhawk Delight: A dragonhawk, molded from satin dark chocolate! The chocolate is infused with a hint of mana thistle to give you the briefest mana high without pushing you over the edge.

Lovely Lemon Ley Lynx: A chocolate that has been carved into the likeness of an Eversong lynx! It is made from satin dark chocolate, with a creamy lemon center, infused with a generous helping of magical power!

Non-Magical Treats:

The Fudgewell: A small, bite-sized cup of milk chocolate, with a deep well of soft, near-liquid fudge.

Belore's Bunny Bon Bon: A baby bon bon bunny made from milk chocolate with a sunfruit center for a sweet and fruity pairing!

CaraMana Crystal: Milk chocolate molded into the shape of a mana crystal, with a caramel center!

If you get a BunBon Bot but don't have Total RP: Extended, don't fear! You can use this chart to roll a 1d6 and determine which chocolate you get!

The Dawn's Heart: Art Commissions 

IC: Outfits and portraits are painted ICly by Thalassian Couture

OOC: The Dawn's Heart is the studio responsible for the artwork!

For the Duration of the Tournament, All prices may be negotiated for gold donations instead. Minimum Donation is the equivalent of 1k G per 1$. You may just randomly donate gold if you like.

Alrighty! So for first time to me commissioners i usually ask for them to fill out these three things. https://docs.google.com/document/d/1iVQ_EODSE9qHno26PBTWILx-oRhykCR91ShtyijvhVM/?usp=sharing

This is a reference for your character. It helps me get easter eggs on their personality to include in an outfit. Also useful if you don't have one already made up for other arts.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1IeHESEss3Rywj9xJSp-Po_w9aQ_iZ2bkv8hKsjteHpU/?usp=sharing

This is a general reference for outfits.

https://forms.gle/tLB6rBrTHAH7VCbc9

And this is the formal request form to help me keep organized. Super important going into tournament of ages crunch time!!!

https://discord.gg/kPQG9Hp

This is the link to my discord. As I am likely staffing the Sword in the Stone while you are reading this, please feel free to pop by!

Prices: Please inquire with bird for details!

Adoptables - 10$ unless otherwise noted. 

Character Art - 20 - 75$

Half Body - 15 - 70$

Bust / Portrait 10 -65$

OUTFIT CONCEPT 35$ - Time - 5h ~ 2.5 days [ Depending on time submitted and Class workload. ] 

Custom Armor Price Guild Sigil and Banner 40$ - Time - 5h ~ 2.5 days [ Depending on time submitted and Class workload. ] 

STAINGLASS WINDOWS: 35-65$

“All slots that say color come with soft shaded colors. If you are interested in something a bit more painterly please mention this in the beginning of the talks about your commission and I will see how much detail will be needed / time to create it. For outfits and designs in the costume slot. I really truly would not like to draw premade outfits. The slot is supposed to be used for original designs and is a bit of a portfolio of fashion design for me. If you would like a mog piece please use the WMV and I will happily do a custom  for you. I reserve the right to deny any slot I do not feel comfortable with. Currently not accepting most furry/anthro commissions. I love drawing females, original fashions and art nouveau style things. I am still getting used to backgrounds. But they can be added to anything for a bit extra to the cost. Thank you for your time! 

Much Love Birdy”

[convocationofquelthalas-wow]

It’s time to enter week three!

The Quel’dorei

and the

Convocation of

Quel’thalas!

This week will focus on lore from after the troll wars and founding of Dalaran to the Scourge Invasion of Quel’thalas! We had thirty nine answers this week, which means we have 75 entries for the Phoenix Hatchling in total. This hatchling will be presented to your character in an in character ceremony, so if you want a hatchling now is a good time to join in!

High elf logo by Rama on Deviantart, logo to the Highguard, all rights reserved by Blizzard Entertainment.

https://www.deviantart.com/ramavatarama

@moonguardrpevents

@the-royal-courier

@wowrpevents

[tarenor]

Intro to the RP campaign!!!!

[bijannich]

/sliiiiides in TELL ME ABOUT ZALAENA'S EARLY DAYS

OH MAN OKlike? all of it? because that was awhile back i can’t remember all the sweet deets. I started playing her when I joined Phoenix Highguard on emerald dream. She was this like. fledgling mage who was pretty talented but untempered. She really liked cats. She had a lot of them, she brought them to things she shouldn’t have.She basically took on a new name after walking out on her bougie magestrix mother, went out looking for somewhere to grow her strength on her own terms, and also have a life outside of her oppressive and emotionally abusive childhood home. She was like. She was a young adult but kinda had the naivety and childishness of someone who didn’t get a full adolescence. I gotta say the friends she made were a lot of fun lol. Like. so outside of anything she had in mind. She went a little bit boy crazy, like, superficial crushes every time she turned around. Was like. on the verge of or lowkey actually in love with her warlock buddy but kinda like. didn’t think she could keep up with all of That. She ended up in another relationship, it was pretty good. I started to be scarce at that point because life got hectic and has remained that way since. She fireball kicked the dick off of an orc, I remember that. She remembers that too, its one of her fondest memories.I don’t have a lot of the deets for whats happened since then. But she was just a pretty chipper and positive character to play, I got to explore fun emotions and small scale conflicts with her. She’s got a special place in my heart.Now she’s stepping into the role of powerplaying magestrix herself and she has babiiiieeessss. she has twins with a meat mountain, she’s being her best self with only a liiiiittle bit of playing with fel magic

edit: THANK YOU FOR ASKING 

[jorsef-ironshield]

⚜ & ❤️

⚜Yes I have. As a matter of fact, she’s my best friend @slamvannah and we hang out all the time and do cool things like skateboarding and drugs.

♥

K so. Alright, alright. I’ve been at this for a long time, and I’ve had a couple -incredible- experiences. 

The first one that comes to mind is an event a certain group of Draenei hosted right before WoD dropped on ED. It was an RP PvP event, all the guilds on each faction started interacting and uniting. I was helping run a brand new guild, piggy backing off another for the RP, and we got to start a huge rivalry with the Phoenix Highguard. And the best part was when we had to team up against the Iron Horde, and everyone dramatically looked over to the Red Portal, knowing there could be -anything- on the other side, and knowing there would be heavy losses.The second is my personal favorite, and it’s the -first- time @kaerlic-ironshield threw a grenade into a crowd of people. He was still somewhat of a crimelord during those days, and he had a crowd of angry people and vigilantes cornering him. Someone had given him a grenade earlier in the day as a joke, and he decided to throw it into the crowd and bolt. This was one of the most amazing and interesting moments I’ve ever had in RP, because in that moment, without any OOC communication needed, no whining, no pauses or trolling. -Everyone- reacted to the grenade fairly, and with fun. That was like 15 people during random RP. Then he got labelled a terrorist for a while.

[studiofruke]

I have to know, how did Eru and Castorien meet?? Maybe you get this question a lot but I love hearing how couples get together. =D Your art is amazing keep up the good work!!!

:’D Eru and Cas actually met through a mutual friend and Farstrider Shalenn! (the stablemaster in SMC lol)

Eru owns and runs an extensive orchard, while his parents run the farmier half, and after the Third War, they were lucky to not lose much land and became super busy providing food for the remaining population, so Eru handled a lot of supply shipments into the city and made acquaintances with most of the people in there. 

Castorien, meanwhile, after the loss of his family, boyfriend, and any happiness he might’ve had after the Third War, banished himself to the Ghostlands where he worked himself to death with the Farstriders there and developed a pretty crippling arcane addiction. Skip ahead about 7 yrs Cas finally is convinced to return to the city, with Shalenn keeping a concerned eye on him, and as Eru’s making one of his deliveries he glimpses Cas…and immediately does not like him haha. 

However, after a couple more shipments and seeing the zombie man a few more times, Eru’s pity/nurturing instinct gets the better of him and he starts bringing some food for Cas specifically (since he’s basically all but withered).  Pride is the only thing Cas really has left though, so they end up making an arrangement for Cas to come do work at his place in exchange for meals. And from then it’s a very slow, hands off recovery as Cas overcomes his trauma with Eru’s help and the good honest work of repairing the rundown bits of the property + gardening, and learns how to be a person again.

It’s really not until Eru completes his blood knight training 3 yrs later and joins with a special forces military unit (Phoenix Highguard) that anything starts to move beyond friendship though. Cas tags along to keep an eye on Eru since he’s really quite young and new to military life, and all the intense campaigns and life threatening situations act as a very strong catalyst for Cas realizing his latent feelings for Eru. Meanwhile, Eru was….actually dating someone else lol. But things work out and they end up in a very happy threesome relationship for a while, and once Eru got a taste for Cas in a romantic sense, he fell super quick and hard.

And now their 3rd anniversary is July 2nd and they’re engaged :’)(Cas proposed

[ignitheus]

To the Fel and Back

(This is a story I made about 2 years ago at the beginning of the Legion expansion, and its setting took place on the initial Broken Shore assault. It’s was also my first story and now somewhat revised.

At the time of the story, his own battalion was the Phoenix Highguard, though changed into The Relentless Dawn before BfA’s release. The battle on Quel’dannas took place in a cross-faction RP campaign on Emerald Dream.

To some, this story may give insight how Ignitheus thinks and behaves.)

The air felt tainted like the light was being sucked into the void. The flames on his back swayed side to side uneasily. Even Ackolyse, the ‘Mr. Hyde’, as compared to some human stories, felt the unsettling atmosphere. Consulting to Kercor, his Observer - floating bookworm, for insight on this change of energy and got the same feeling Ignitheus had. It was somewhere far away. Fel. Death. THEM. Even after all of that, he was still in disbelief. Despite the havoc in his brain, he still had to focus on this annoying war these humans placed upon us.

A large battalion of the Alliance had assaulted the Isle of Quel’dannas with the clear motive to destroy the Sunwell. Fortunately, other parties of the Horde answered the plea to assist in defending the Sunwell Plataeu. As the days went by, Ignitheus’ concerns only got worse. This time, he consulted with other warlocks, which they too had the same answer. He assumed his Commander, Tarenor Swiftsawn already knew, so he did not bother bringing it up. Even if he did, it would be just another problem on their already-filled plate and cause major panic within the battalion... but he didn’t have to. Rumors were already spreading about the unnerving sensations of dread and the bright green light somewhere east of Stormwind, and soon it reached Hillsbrad to both the Horde and Alliance. The skirmish was forcefully halted and for good reason.

The Burning Legion had returned.

Eventually, the Highguard grouped up and waited for the order to embark. Warlocks from the Highguard conversed about these turn of events. With the demon influence and taint in the air, surely they would have the upper hand against this threat. With the call to leave sounded, they headed for the ships. Ignitheus saw many faces on that ship. Ackolyse felt many emotions. There was no hint of positivity on that ship, let alone any hope, nor could he blame them. Everyone was in fear. Even as they arrived on the darkened atmosphere of the Broken shore, Fel cannons shooting at incoming ships from left and right, the usual ‘For the Horde’ war-cry had hints of hesitation and terror. -No one- was ready for this.

The approach was chaotic. A few ships burned on the shoreline after being blasted Fel cannons; bodies burning by its fire as screams of those injured and dying filled the air. There were so many demons ahead of us. So much blood that was not his after catching a thrown goblin. As soon as he burned his first felhound to a crisp however, that fear all but evaporated. Here, Ignitheus was against demons. Not people. Not living beings that have family and kids to look after. Here he could let loose.

Here... he could have fun.

Ignitheus burned one demon after another; cutting through with the blade of his scythe. Thier own cries of pain with each attack. In the distance, we watched as Tirion Fordring died, and for once in many years, both the Horde and Alliance worked together on separate landmasses to take down the large demon that which killed Tirion. The Legion’s forces were endless. Even after defeating that large demon, the Legion’s progress never faltered. Not even a flinch. They still kept coming; un-wavered. Mortals were getting restless.

One soldier of the Horde after another dying by fel-blades... but when the Warchief had fallen, his body burned with rage, and as the call to retreat was given by Sylvanas, so too did the Highguard. Forming ranks properly for once, the Highguard fended off the demons as they fled. As soon as the warlocks sent Infernals crashing onto the demons; the Legion’s own creations being used against them, the order to run was given and every soldier in the Highguard hauled ass back to the ship. Giving everything they had at that last defensive push gave them enough time to make it on the ships and sail back to Orgrimmar.

Everyone was in bad shape. Crying and moaning were the only sounds on the battleship as standby medical units did what they could to the injured, despite their own conditions to deal with. Ignitheus had fun in that onslaught but used up so much energy and almost felt drained. It was clear he needed more practice, as much as he could before the brutal days ahead. It will be brutal for the Horde. The Alliance. Everyone.

No one expected this to happen. The call had been given, and now they must answer it... to the bitter end.

[rasekstories]

Isle of Thunder

A warm wind was blowing in from Westfall as the two little boats without names hit sand along the northern coast of Stranglethorn.

Two Trolls hopped out of each to pull the boats ashore, and a third came from the back with skinny legs and trousers rolled up over his knees.  Ahead of him lie the grassy beach and Bloodscalp ruins that the crabs had begun to make their homes in, where the wails of the native women could still be heard for the loss of their chief through the dense jungle canopy.  Here on the beach there were only the sounds of sea birds and the blinding sun.

“Joo gonna help us wit dis?”  One of the stocky Trolls called to the boy with the rolled up trousers, who shook his head.

“I can't, Ren.  Mon said to bring dis to de General as soon as possible.”  The skinny boy patted his breast pocket, where a crisp folded parchment lie safely against his breast.  “If I take all day, dey gonna skin me.”

The stocky one nodded and wished him luck and speed, and the boy was off along the sand with one hand over his chest.

The entrance to Zul'Gurub was not far off; its high sandstone walls nestled safely into the northeastern mountain range that kept them apart from Deadwind Pass, protected by some of the tallest trees a Troll had ever seen, and fearsome jade cats and snakes that had been carved into the rock thousands of years ago and since been worn by time and weather, so only their jagged smiles remained.  

Inside was a city still held in the clutches of its oldest ghosts.  Huts at the entrance remained empty, and the scars of conquest were burned into the altars and platforms that once welcomed loyal Gurubashi to the heart of the empire.  

“She lives in de first hut on de left, not up by de bats but in de second one, where de raptor pits used to be.  Ya know what I mean?  Right up dis path here, take a right after de bridge, got it?”  A leggy redhead in traditional robes pointed him in the right direction.  She shot him a sly smile when he repeated them to her for clarity and turned back to the girl she'd been talking to, and he hurried on his way.  A message for the General, had to get there quick.

At first he thought the cat was asleep, but when he knocked on the wooden frame it opened its eyes and looked at him directly.  He ducked out of sight, pressing his back against the side of the yurt as he heard it yawn and shuffle to its feet, and closed his eyes as the sickening cracks and pulls of a druid changing shape filled his ears.

“You can come in.”  Her voice was sweet and low for a woman, like dripping honey or colored glass.  She welcomed him with a smile and offered him a spot on the rug in front of her.  General Tiombi was pretty in her own way.  She was clearly an older woman; her thin, girlish figure given way to generous curves, and the optimism of youth in her golden eyes had long since been drowned in pools of care and worry, but the boy still cast his eyes to the floor and crouched down before her, nearly touching his forehead to the floor.  A salute didn't seem fitting.

“I'm sorry for wakin ya, General.” He held the folded parchment out to her.  “Dis comes from my papa Nak'nama in Orgrimmar, whose cousin sent him sons to Pandaria wit de Horde fleet.  All of him sons say de same ting:  Zandalari on de isles.  De old Trolls makin a push against us in de new land, stronger den before.  Dey goin to face dem on stronga ground, and General...”  the boy looked up at her, his eyes sharp and heavy with old grudges.  “de elves leadin de assault.”

Tiombi's jaw steeled, her welcoming smile gone.  She placed the letter in front of her and folded her hands in her lap.  When she inquired as to what elves he meant, he said “Not de ones ya tinkin of.  I didn't hear nuttin about de Phoenix Highguard or any a dat rabble.  Dey say it's de mon on top, Mista One-Eye himself wit a great big ship an mon scattered across de island.”

“Very well.”  She thanked him, getting to her feet.  “Run ahead an tell Sergeant Jin'taza to meet me in him hut.”

The sergeant was home as usual, lounging in a swinging rope chair lined with pillows.  Thick green smoke curled above his wooden pipe, his robes half undone, his mask lazily pushed up on top of his hair.  He did not get up to greet Tiombi when she entered, nor make any suggestion that he knew she was there other than to look at her through the haze of felweed.

“I have a few questions.”  She managed to look everywhere else but at the sergeant himself, with his naked thighs and nearly useless robe.  He coughed and did not move. “I want ya to tell me about de Mogu and de change in de Zandalari Trolls.”

Finally, a topic that interested him. Jin'taza leaned forward, pulling his robe across his chest and legs, for which the general was grateful.  He told her all the old tales, of the slavery in Pandaria, the uprising of the monks and the friendship between the Trolls and the Pandaren's oppressors.  He told her about their desperation, their willingness to team up with nearly anyone and everyone to regain their home and make what he felt they considered their last stand.  He told her about the extra troops from the Sandfury, who were nearly gone, the Gurubashi and the Amani who'd seen defeat at the hands of the Horde and Alliance just a year prior, and the old remnants of the Drakkari empire that still clung to a shred of hope despite the loss of their people.  When she asked him why the Zandalari would fight them rather than seek help from the people they'd called allies years ago, he merely shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

“I dunno dat, girly.  Go ahead an ask em yaself, if ya want answers like dat.”  He stuck his pipe back in his mouth and smiled, satisfied with his own knowledge and pleased that she'd come to ask it of him.

“And I suppose de elves are dere to gain dere own foothold.  De wretches wouldn't crawl so far outta dere hole unless dere was a serious foothold to gain.  Whateva's on dis island dey want, de Trolls should have.  No pink traitor's gonna take de spoils of de Zandalari.  A Troll problem be dealt wit by Trolls.”

Jin'taza smirked, exhaling a plume of smoke through his nose.  “Ezzran said de same ting, girly.”

She gave him a harsh look, her gentle features warped into a frown and a low growl.  “Go find Rasek. Tell him we movin to de Isle of Thunder.  Let de Trolls deal wit Troll problems, no one else.”

“As ya say, girly.”  

She left him in a flurry of feathers and bones, the sick crunching and snapping of her body changing shape echoing off the stone walls.  If Ezzran was talking about it, he would already have his own plan.  It was likely he was already on his way there with his axe over his shoulder, his cold, resonating laugh booming forth from behind his mask's painted smile.  This time she wouldn't be bothered if he had a head start.  She'd just have to catch up.

[ahvie-voidsinger]

Freedom or Duty?

Author’s Note: This story was written back in May 2018, at a time when Ahvie’s role as a co-innkeeper at the Moonlit Hearth was drawing to a close. The Moonlit Hearth was an adventurer’s community village in the Darkshore town of Lor’danel, founded by Rondirin Dwarftosser. Rondirin had retired from war, hoping to find a quiet place away from the simmering faction tensions and Argussian front. In doing so, he aimed to create a place where veterans and civilians alike could eke out a living in peace, no matter their background. Ahvie had been one such guest of his.

This is not a story of how she became a void elf. Nor is it a story of how she came to gain the trust of her erstwhile (or unwitting) companions in the Alliance. This is a short story of how those peaceful days came to be overshadowed by the growing azerite conflict, and how Ahvie would not be able to remain removed of it for much longer. It says nothing of her remaining loyalties to Silvermoon or the Highguard, as it is but one brief snapshot into Ahvie being leashed back into war.

Prologue

Even in the deepest reaches of Stormwind Keep, a keen nose could easily pick up on the savory aroma of barbecued meat, exotic seasoning and fizzy ale. Or maybe the biological memory never quite left her mind ever since she and the other cadets filed through the hallways, past the kitchens and dining hall before crowding into the renovated war room.

Several heads of Alliance brass were waiting for them on the dais and around both the familiar war table and the massive representation of Azeroth pinned to wall boards, cobbled together from several parchments and maps. This was no mere policy discussion, or even a debriefing like many of the smaller talks the recruits had become used to. Something big was up.

Well, duh. Of course something big was up. The Alliance and Horde had already broken into open hostilities just short of a declaration of war. She knew this much, as she suspected many of the operatives in the room did from their own cells’ missions. Despite the seriousness of the prospect of another world war looming on the horizon not long after Argus vacated it, the pale-skinned void elf yawned aloud, drawing the stares and scowls of several agents, veteran and recruit alike.

She grinned at them and shrugged, not particularly worried about what the others thought. As it was, she was very well aware that very few of her fellow collaborators trusted her. A handful actually did remember her service record for Silvermoon not more than a few months ago, and fewer still recognized her from back when she smuggled herself into the docks and taverns in equally dark times. Almost none understood why top brass were willing to let a blood elf into the delicate and inner workings of Stormwind’s famed intelligence network.

She figured it was a the loss of so many officers and leadership in the Broken Shore mixed with the gamble that she had secrets of Horde intelligence and tactics that could be exploited in the coming war.

As the void elf sought to distance herself from the rest of the recruits taking a seat in one of the hundreds of chairs lined up in front of the dais, she spotted many recruits leaning against the outer walls and choosing to stand rather than vie for a chair. Indeed, her group was one of the last to enter, and almost all of the sitting room was occupied.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in uniform, Ahvie?” came a whisper from beside her.

Her fellow cadet, Agent Gerund, a suspiciously short worgen man both in form and uniform was giving her one of his looks.

As the others finished filing into the room and bypassing them, Ahvie shrugged with her trademark grin. She didn’t mind Gerund’s almost brotherly admonishments. She liked him mostly because she didn’t have to crane her neck to look up at him.

“What’s the point of getting all fancy if we’re just going to get changed again after?” she whispered back, almost chuckling.

Again, a deadpan stare, as the doors loudly closed behind the last of the operatives entered.

"You're supposed to be showing respect and subordinance to the top dogs. I don't know what you got away with in panty-land, but here -"

"I'm not showing any skin, I'm not wearing any bright colors. I don't see a problem."

“You think you’re special because brass likes you. You’re shouldn’t push your luck with them.”

“Oh, Gerry, they don’t like me. Even you don’t like me, you just don’t want me dragging you down.”

“Then why -“ he growled.

“Shhh. Looks like they’re about to start. I’m gonna get a seat.”

“WHAT? Where?”

Ahvie didn’t fashion a reply, as even their whispering was becoming noticeably loud in the quieting auditorium. Gerund watched her for a few moments as the navy-haired elf turned and walked right up to one of the empty desks at the back that had no chairs nearby. Topped with a few textbooks and quills, it was mostly unoccupied.

Perfect.

Just as the only sounds that could be heard in the room where the 'click, clack' of measured bootsteps on the stone floor, Ahvie sidled up to the edge of the desk and half-hopped her butt on top of it, dangling her legs over the edge of it as a bored child would. Ignoring the stares of a handful of cadets in the back row, she nodded at the officers on the dais.

Several of them were old codgers, veterans of the first and second wars, somehow lucky enough to miss out on a deployment to the Broken Isles. One stood at attention, and a younger man with black hair and a barely perceptible greyline eyed all the recruits with what she gathered was a mix of scruting and pride. As the keynote speaker made her way up the steps of the dais, the instructor's gaze met with Ahvie's, and his eyes narrowed with disapproval.

"Good evening, recruits. No doubt many of you know why you are here tonight and what we're going to talk about," said the stern but silk-voiced woman who'd entered not so long ago. A towering, sleek, athletic kaldorei in the familiar SI:7 uniform eyed the gathering with confidence as she spoke.

Ahvie couldn't help but notice that the women's SI:7 uniform everyone wanted her to wear provided her with a very good view of the kaldorei's ample chest. She almost didn't hear what followed.

"As many of you are aware, Sylvanas is launching several operations throughout Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms. Some are undoubtedly distractions, others are pretexts to larger goals and targets that all of us have been successful in countering. I am very proud of each and every one of you." Ahvie also noted that the elf pointedly didn't look her away for most of the speech. In fact, Ahvie spent most of the debriefing pretending to be enchanted with the woman's cleavage while actually wondering how much longer covert operations would be able to remain, well, covert. Or her own, at least.

"... Several Horde informants have claimed to offer us intel on enemy movements and supply caches. Although all of us would jump at the opportunity to exploit a weakness in the enemy, you must be equally aware and cautious of the Banshee Queen's cunning. You can bet your asses that any intel the Horde wants to provide to us is likely a ploy, distraction or a trap. File a report, but do not act without authorization from your C.O."

Ahvie bobbed her head from side to side as she recalled a song she'd heard a bard playing outside the Slaughtered Lamb earlier in the week, wishing that she'd tipped the musician. Precious few songstresses left in this scarred world, might as well keep them around.

A hand rose into the air from the crowd, which the speaker responded to curtly with a thin smile and a nod, pointing at the individual.

"You there, speak."

The cadet remained seated, but his voice was surly and rounded with an accent that likely betrayed him as either a dwarf or a backwater human.

"Pardon, Mum, but what about our... ah... defectors? The -"

"Ren'dorei, cadet?"

"Ah, yes, Mum."

The kaldorei clicked her tongue alongside a dissatisfied sniff, but responded quickly as she stiffened her expression.

"You have been ordered to work alongside them, yes?"

A silence, accompanied by which Ahvie presumed was a quiet nod.

"And you don't entirely trust our newfound allies, yes?"

Another silence, to which more cadets around the room exchanged looks with their peers, some of them turning to the handful of void elves sitting in the room. Their pointy ears were unmistakably sliding down into their chairs under the scrutiny. Ahvie sighed, oblivious to the ones cast her way.

"You already know that King Anduin has ordered the inclusion of the exiles as members of the Alliance. Rest-assured that your superior officers have screened and ensured that the ex-pats of Silvermoon are both trustworthy and loyal. That is why so few of their lot sit among you today. You would do well to remember that we have picked them to start at the bottom, as all of us once did."

"Yes, Mum."

"If you have a complaint or suspicions about ANY agent's conduct, regardless of their past or birth, you should treat them the same way you would unknown information: File a report, and don't act without authorization."

"Of course, Mum."

A light murmur of approval rippled through the gathering, and the night elf continued the briefing, using her thin baton to point to several areas of the map to indicate where some agents were being assigned. Apparently the concept of making individual cells of operatives independently unaware of the others' objectives was foreign to the Alliance. Or perhaps...

Ahvie sighed, a little too audibly, and although M kept speaking, she locked her gaze onto the void elf in the back momentarily... as did every other officer. She often forgot how good the hearing of night elves were. She'd had to practice controlling herself more.

Ahvie tried not to respond emotionally or visibly, and simply kept up the appearance of listening patiently, although she didn't keep her leatherclad legs from swinging over the edge of the desk.

* * * * *

Ahvie wasn't sure how long she'd daydreamed, but before she knew it, everyone was already standing up and getting out of their chairs and filing out en masse. Some of the operatives were giving her amused and conflicted looks, while others were whispering to each other about their upcoming missions. Apparently individual assignments were going to be handed out later, with this being an overall operational briefing for the next few months.

Nothing new, basically.

Ahvie hopped down to the floor, dusting off the back of her violet-black leather catsuit as she landed quietly. She was just about to go join Gerund in the tail end of the departing agents, when one of the officers not speaking with the other brass called out to her.

"Brightsinger. A word."

She stopped in her tracks and looked up, distinctly aware of Gerund's sympathetic but 'I told you so' glance directed her way. She hoped that her ears weren't drooping. She turned on her heels and nonchalantly sauntered down the aisle between both sections of empty chairs. The other officers were still talking amongst each other in a half-circle, although M was casting a single skeptical eye her way. Ahvie turned to the instructor whose voice she knew quite well by now.

"Yes, sir?"

He didn't immediately respond, expecting and waiting for her to approach closer to the edge of the dais. As it was, she was a dainty 5 foot tall, and already the human instructor towered over here on even footing. Now he literally was almost twice as tall as she was. Although she was used to being shorter than everyone, she didn't like how they had to rub it in here.

"Sir?"

"You displayed a deplorable level of disrespect at the meeting tonight."

"I did, sir. Sorry, sir."

A bit of a pause, which extended into what she suspected what a dissatisfied silence. She looked up at Arthur Huwe and his amazingly bald head. He didn't have an expression of much of anything. He appeared to be trying to read her mind, or if he was capable of it, that's probably what he would look like if he was trying. Ahvie squinted up at him as though that would keep him out of her thoughts.

"You haven't filed a report in a month."

"I have no assignments outstanding, sir."

"None that we've given you, no. Your privateer's license does not count." She cocked an eyebrow up at him, daring to plant a hand on one of her hips. It was no secret to brass what she used to do to fill the time.

"Anduin seems to think it does. He signed it."

"KING Anduin, Brightsinger. Do not forget your place here."

"Being a crown-sanctioned pirate and Horde defector?"

"Defector..."

She sighed, assuming a more straightened stance.

"Sir."

"We've seen you working with the locals and garrisons in Northrend."

"Yes, sir."

He paused, his gaze studiously examining her as though her glowing locks of hair could provide more answers. Or better answers.

"You have not been assigned a commanding officer."

"Yes, sir."

"How do you think this looks to Shaw and M?"

She blinked, trying to appear confused enough to hide her internal gut feelings of apprehension.

"Sir?"

"Other ren'dorei have accepted regular commissions as cadets in cells across Azeroth. You are among the handful who have ... opted not to."

Ahvie was pretty sure where this was going, but wasn't sure how to answer.

"Yes, sir."

Huwe inhaled and exhaled slowly, and she cast her eyes straight forward. Which oddly kept her at eye level with his shins. She tried to imagine what it would look like if one of his highboots had its laces untied.

"At ease, Brightsinger."

She looked up with relief and surprise as she relaxed. Only a little, though. He stared down at her with mostly exasperation. Both waited for a bit longer. Ahvie then became distinctly aware that the other officers had stopped talking amongst each other and turned to look down at her. Somehow, at some point, M had sat down on the edge of the dais mirroring the way Ahvie sat on the table earlier. Her expression was as thoughtful as it was stern disapproval.

Ahvie looked at M for a moment before looking back up at Huwe.

"Sir?"

"How do you think your unique status as a privateer operating outside the regulations of SI:7, yet being permitted operative access to Alliance channels, makes us feel in this very volatile conflict?"

Ahvie grimaced, and looked down. She shouldn't have to answer to these textbooks, but she knew what M was capable of. She'd rubbed shoulders with enough seedy blackguards and uncrowned to know who to avoid the attention of. And now the legend herself was sizing her up like she was her next mark.

"... You may speak freely."

Ahvie frowned, her eyebrows narrowing. Her temper unexpectedly flared up at the chance to speak her mind.

"Why don't you ask her, then?"

M was quick and ready to respond, her silky void laced with almost motherly levels of scorn and disapproval. "You're an unknown variable. A dangerous and unreliable agent. Your loyalties have never been made clear, despite your so-called pledge of allegiance to the crown. You have no official commission in SI:7 because you are committed to no known theaters."

"No approved theaters of war, you mean," Ahvie countered tersely.

"We have many former pirates among our ranks, Brightsinger. It's not your line of work that we disapprove of. It's your lack of accountability. You're a loose cannon we can't afford to arm with anything more than our silent disavowal," the kaldorei intoned.

Ahvie just shrugged at her, and looked back up to Huwe, the other officers murmuring with grimaces on their faces. Huwe was not one to display much disdain for ignoring chain of command. In fact, it was rumored he was completely taken off guard when SI:7 had not long ago been infiltrated by a dreadlord.

"This a lot of stuff you lot already knew when you brought me into the fold. I don't understand what the big deal is, bringing it up right now," Ahvie said.

"As you are undoubtedly aware, Brightsinger," Huwe continued. "Privateers have had increasingly less and less room to maneuver and operate after Sylvanas has expanded her navy's reach to much of Kalimdor. How has business been for you at the Moonlit Hearth?"

Ahvie shot him a sharp glance, squinting, but not saying anything to that. Huwe continued.

"Embershield has been reining in its maritime operations and closed much of its borders and trading routes. Northrend outposts have all been ordered to cease trading in contraband and black market channels. I imagine the King's commission has not been profitable of late."

She folded her arms under her small chest and sniffed, glaring at him, whereupon M took over for Huwe.

"Escalation is drying up the breathing room for your operations, and yet you're still working in Northrend."

Ahvie remained tight-lipped, but nodded slightly at her, glancing between M and Huwe. The other officers began descending the stairs and making their way out of the auditorium. Ahvie barely managed to keep her gaze on Huwe.

"We're willing to discuss the terms of a trade, Ahvie," M said gently.

Ahvie turned to M, still crossing her arms under her chest, brow furrowed. M continued slowly, with Huwe turning to her with complete understanding and a lack of surprise. They'd thought about this proposal for a while, then.

"We know you're hunting zealots, and this aligns with some of the Alliance's dirty laundry we'd prefer didn't air out at this particular time."

Ahvie cut in, smirking slightly. "You mean with admitting two polar opposites to the Alliance forces."

M scowled at her, but even nodded. "We'll help you and give you access to the Alliance channels and support you've undoubtedly been lacking in Northrend. We'll even give you a proper commission within SI:7, rank and number."

Ahvie took a step back and returned her arms to her sides in momentary surprise. She looked at Huwe, we appeared somewhat resigned and silent.

"What? Are you serious? You know I --"

"Could care less about rank and care more about your freedom, yes. We're acutely aware of your disability," M interrupted smoothly.

Ahvie just glared at her, her glacial blue eyes glowing in the dimming torchlight.

"We also are aware of your unique talents and connections, and would be remiss not to want to sharpen the blade you've forged yourself into, Ahvie," M continued. "With proper training, official commisions, the best supplies and gear, you have potential to grow out of your former shell of being a disheveled pirate pawnbroker. The Alliance could benefit greatly from your commitment to its people and its future."

Ahvie continued to glare at her, narrowing her eyes further.

"Our people were members of the Alliance long before they even admitted yours, Mum. And they were unceremoniously shoved out by arrogant, unappreciative officers in its aging ranks. And then when Lordaeron, Silvermoon and Dalaran were sacked, we were forgotten. You're asking us to --"

M cut in, her voice growing more heated. "We're. Asking. You. To join your countrymen and women in putting more than words into your commitment to the crown, if not for global peace than to give your life meaning in the Grand Alliance once more."

Ahvie blinked, and then blinked again. "Quite a lot of benefits to lasso one pirate captain, Mum."

M then further infuriated Ahvie with a sly grin as she leaned back on the ledge, her arms balancing her on either side.

"In return, you would be required to formally join the ranks of one of the Alliance batallions active in the field. You would report to one of their officers, and send reports back to Huwe directly," the kaldorei's eyes almost gleamed with smiling daggers. "Your access to Alliance support, of our discretion, would last only so long as your batallion officers confirmed your loyalty and support to one of the great companies."

Ahvie's head swirled — but in the center of that maelstrom was the chilling core of undeniable knowledge that a bigger storm was coming, and that she'd applied to SI:7 to do more good than merely pillage supplies from mustache-twirling kingpins. It wasn't much different than when she was stranded in Silvermoon without her crew, but this time... this time she'd be giving up that life by choice. Giving up her crew again, joining a military company, taking orders, not being able to go where and do what she pleased...

She loved her freedom, but she also wasn't as heartless as her sister. Fyrevia would box her ears and maybe cook them for lunch if she found out that Ahvie of all people was trading the horizon for a duty to the greater good.

Ahvie wasn't sure how she was thinking about this, but she was suddenly aware that she was biting her lip and trembling. She'd balled her leatherclad hands into fists, staring at the floor in indecision.

Freedom or duty?

In moments, Ahvie was aware of someone in front of her who was taller than anyone had a right to be. She looked up in the shadow of the older woman. M's own uniform was stretched tight against her own muscled frame, but her eyes were hard and skeptical, much like that of wardens Ahvie had met in the field. Probably was a warden, still, for all she knew.

M planted a hand on each hip and leaned down to speak to Ahvie as though addressing a child still playing with her dolls.

"Well? How about it, Brightsinger? Think maybe it's time you stopped playing at shadows and started learning and growing again?"

Ahvie squinted at her, scrunching up her face in a reluctant resentment.

"Do I get to choose which one to join?"

M grinned devilishly, which made Ahvie shrink back slightly. "Yep."

Ahvie wasn't sure why that made M pleased as punch, but perhaps she had underestimated until now just how much she'd annoyed and tried the patience of Alliance brass by operating without their approval until now.

Drawing herself up as she swelled with courage to fight down the urge to run and throw it all away, Ahvie planed a hand on each hip and scowled as fiercely as she could at the kaldorei gazing down at her the way a viper might to a mouse. M straightened, looking just as smug as earlier, but expectant.

"You got yourself a deal, grandma. I'll get you that officer's signature and then we'll talk shop."

Ahvie then spun on her heels without saluting and stormed out of the auditorium, much to the almost mirthful and haunting laughter of the kaldorei in the meeting room and echoing after her in the Stormwind Keep halls. Ahvie knew full well why Mum would find this turn of events so funny. Ahvie had finally signed away her freedom for something that the elder elf knew she could manipulate.

The only freedom Ahvie had in this mess was her choice of Alliance batallions who would accept her.

She was pretty sure she knew just who to look up first.

[kektrain]

DEATHLORD OF METAL NOW!

[astaraelsong]

more ais and raith

[dangreth]

what is your relationship to karthuro and the other illidari?

“Karthuro and I work together unwillingly. He smells bad and he’s too loud. ⋅⋅ᴵ ʳᵉᵃᶫᶫʸ ᶫᶦᵏᵉ ʰᶦˢ ʰᵃᶦʳ, ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ⋅”“As for the others, I was forced into working for Vyndoriell as a last resort. I’m not particularly close with anyone, but most of them have served their purpose in helping defeat the Legion. I just wish they were as good as me.” ((So, basically there are barely any Alliance demon hunters on Emerald Dream. I came across a bunch from Phoenix Highguard, and I do cross-faction RP with them instead. It has led to some incredible stuff, and it helped me make friends (one of which I’m close to). Hopefully more Alliance demon hunters exist soon. I’m the only one. ))

[vephrielarchive]

I haven’t been a part of it for years now, but I wanted to give a shout out to Phoenix Highguard for giving me so many wonderful RP memories :’)

Castorien developed into the complex character he is thanks to his time in that guild and the people I met there, I never could have imagined just how much he would come to mean to me

PH was my first introduction to in-game RP, something I’d always been too hesitant to try since my past experience had only been with message board and forum roleplaying

I’m so grateful for the time I spent in that guild and I’ll always think back on it fondly 💙

I don’t know how many of you will see this in the tag, but I wanted to say congratulations on your move guys, I’ll look forward to seeing you on WrA!