#see you in atiesh

[threeacttragedy]

[skymagpie]

Small rant regarding all these big WoW youtubers coming up with theories and why I think if Blizzard does go for a twist like that it will be cheap and absolutely stupid. Putting it below the cut for spoilers!

I am seeing a lot of the big name WoW youtubers say that Khadgar is either Xal'atath, puppeteered by Xal'atath or corrupted by Xal'atath and he will be her way to get back at Alleria because "The Lord of Ravens will turn the key" or whatever. And while that is a plot that could happen - it is not what is currently written, and if it does happen it will be a retcon. But I feel like this theory is missing few points:

Xal'atath did not trap Khadgar in the Dark Heart. She left him to die. A lot of us wondered back then if that was the case because of her "Goodbye, Guardian." line and it seems that from what we know now, she expected him to get killed and consumed like the rest of Dalaran.

Khadgar willingly reaching into the orb that the Dark Heart produced because he decided that turning himself into arcane energy will store him in the heart. This is something he figured out during the fight with the prior knowledge he had. This is something that Medivh always taught him to do! It's a callback to their relationship! This is such an important Khadgar moment!!!

Khadgar put his trust into Alleria and that she will stop Xal'atath. He also saved her because he loves Alleria and she is one of his closest friends. Then he gambled his life on a theory that hasn't been tested and in the end he was rewarded for his selflessness and trust in his friend by having her save him. Their arc came full circle. Why would you wanna intervene in something that needs no intervention?

Khadgar suddenly being Xal'atath in disguise will water down both Alleria's and Anduin's arc. Anduin brought him back with the Light, finding his strength as a healer and regaining his connection. Imagine if they were like "Haha nope sike, have another Light crisis arc!" like how many arcs should Anduin have? Alleria can still have her struggle with the Void in regards to her sisters, Turalyon and Arator. It doesn't have to be Khadgar anymore. In fact it makes sense for her family to be a way to "break" her more than her best friend. Khadgar surviving only to have something happen with the others will actually be a better twist for Alleria's character.

The cinematic is sincere, much like the other cinematics. It does not try to outsmart the audience. They are made so nicely and the hints from the "Destruction of Dalaran" one come into play later on. There is also a callback in the 'stay a while and listen' between Alleria and Khadgar to the very first cinematic between them (Dark Heart). These were made with care. Those soft looks between Khadgar and Anduin, the hug with Alleria, they have to be genuine. If they aren't you are treating your audience like idiots, you lie to them for the sake of lying to them. It would be season 8 of Game of Thrones level of stupid if they pull a 180 twist on these cinematics. The cinematics were so detailed, we guessed that Khadgar cannot move his legs from the very first one after his fight with Xal'atath, like that's the kind of detail they made sure we can pick up, but didn't make it obvious. This was good film language that matches the tone through the entire expansion.

Going for Khadgar again after everything he already went through and after he closed his arc and after he lost Atiesh and got permanently injured feels like you are just bullying this character for no reason. He didn't walk out of that unscathed, he got rewarded for his trust and selflessness by having Alleria save him. It's okay. He can retire here for now. Coming with more terrible things for a guy who finished his arc and is currently in a wheelchair feels meanspirited and honestly kind of an asshole move. I can't put it past Blizzard but it would just suck.

There are other characters in this franchise, we have yet to get more Horde screen time, why focus on Khadgar when his story got a nice ending? Just let him and us his fans have this small win and carry on with the story.

[katieskarlette]

Reactions to spoilery cutscenes

Curiosity got the better of me, and I watched all the cutscenes that WoWhead posted from 11.0.

Spoilers and rambling below.

[Disclaimer: These are just my poorly-organized thoughts after watching cutscenes online without much context. Take them with a grain of salt.]

First, the prematurely-gray elephant in the room: Khadgar. I really enjoyed him as a character and I will miss him. Was it a fitting sendoff for such a huge lore figure? Not in my opinion. It was basically copying Rhonin's death (although at least this was in game and not in a novel). And Atiesh got broken, too. As a mage main, that made me cringe, and the destruction of my home city didn't feel good, either. The visual effects of it blowing up in a void explosion were impressive, at least.

Moving on... From what I've seen, I like what they're doing with Moira and her son, and their dynamic with Magni. Talk about a redemption arc, going from the Worst Father of the Year to doting grand'da. Aww. I'm not sorry to see the diamond shell go away. It was stingy of Azeroth not to give him any armor to keep, though. Harumph.

As for the new short folk...I love their blue gryphons, but otherwise they're not my cup o' tea, aesthetically, and I feel like the mechanical motif should stay with the gnomes and mechagnomes. Also, dwarves without Scottish accents seem so wrong. I know that's a ridiculous thing to say because why the hell did that get to be a thing anyway, but it's what we're used to. (Incidentally, exposure to WoW dwarves helped me do a killer Scottish accent when I want to. My best friend does a great Irish accent, so sometimes we'll greet each other in our respective fake accents. Maybe you have to be there, but it amuses us.)

ANYWAY...

Warcraft has always had a vaguely cartoony style. In the last several years the quality of the character models has improved noticeably. I feel like Blizzard is struggling to find a happy medium wherein it still has that signature Warcraft vibe while taking advantage of the improved graphics. Which is a long winded way to say that I find Anduin's detailed eyelashes and the M.C. Escheresque intricacies of Alleria's hair distracting. Anduin's facial structure, stubble, and the under layer of his hair look somewhat realistic, but the top layer of his hair and his vividly blue eyes look like they're from a different universe.

Speaking of Alleria, I don't understand the need to completely redesign her character. Funky winged eyeliner and an asymmetric cape, a totally different color palette, her hair all over the place...it's like she's a completely different character. Sure, a real person can have a major makeover and that's totally fine, but when you're dealing with a fictional character who has a distinct "look" to them, you should have a very, very good reason to throw away the familiarity/recognition you've already established. I felt a little bit that way when Jaina got her makeover for BFA, but since she's by far the most prominent human woman in the franchise it was easier to adjust. We have how many rail-thin high/blood/void elven women now? A lot. They could have done some cool, subtle things with slowly changing her Legion-era outfit to be more void-themed over time, but I suppose that would require extra modeling work that would deprive the playerbase of a raid tier...

I have no idea who Aelric Leid is, but I'd know Jim Pirri's voice anywhere. I'm glad he's still around the franchise after Nathanos was sent off to live happily ever after in a quiet corner of Ardenweald with his true love after she rescued him from the maw and you can pry that headcanon from my cold, not-undead hands killed off.

So we have a Wrynn not climbing about the fleeing ship with his allies but instead jumping down to fight the thing trying to destroy said ship, even knowing it will probably lead to his death. GEE, WHERE HAVE I SEEN THAT BEFORE?! Okay, I have to admit that did give me some feels. There's a fine line between poignant, thematically significant callbacks and gratuitously echoing past imagery while screaming, "Look! It's the thing! You remember the thing, right? Here it is again! Isn't that cool?" I'm looking at you, tons of Arthas parallels they pushed on Anduin in BFA and Shadowlands. Ahem. So yeah, I see what you did there, Blizzard, and I don't hate it. Let me conjure you a mana cookie.

Ansurek looked SO much cooler before her void power-up. She looks creepy af with all those red eyes and the stuff on her head, yet she's got a normal human mouth and a cutesy nose. WTF? Come on, let the creepy spider queen be monstrous! Trust me, people will still want to fuck her. Source: I've been on the internet.

"With our renewed strength, our kingdom shall be reborn." Zzzzzzz... Huh? Wha'? Oh. I'm sorry, I could have sworn I've heard this schtick about 874 times already.

Is Alleria really stupid enough to think she can kill (the equivalent of?) an Old God with an arrow? There's no way a shapeshifting being of the void could possibly put up an illusion or teleport away at the last second! /facepalm (Although soon after she was able to gut-punch Xal'atath to make her back up, so maybe it wasn't such a dumb strategy... I dunno. I'm just judging a bunch of short cutscenes out of context.)

A Windrunner sister gripping her bow so tightly we hear the leather squeak. Never seen that before, either.

I do like Xal'atath so far. She's got the sultry voice of Azshara, the (over)confidence of Lich King Arthas, and the creepy wrongness of her Old God pals. Voice aside, she's not as sexualized as a lot of her predecessors in the franchise, which is a relief. (I love Azshara to bits but she must have used massive amounts of double-sided tape and/or powerful magic to keep her boobs in that dress back in her pre-naga days.)

So yeah. I watched the in-game cinematics. There was some good, some bad, and some stuff I like to clown on but wasn't actually that awful. I can't say that it made me reconsider my decision not to play the expansion, but I'm glad I know a little bit more about what's going on.

Now, since they so rudely destroyed Dalaran, I'll have to picture my mage curling up in the library in Stormwind Keep, instead. Because that's what I imagine she does when I'm not playing the game. ;)

[sesshy380]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 🫶

😳 That's a lot of roses....

Since I totally counted how many there were then immediately forgot, I said fuck it and dug through my WiP folders and found something I could share a nice chunk of that someday will get finished...maybe. It's from my Yugioh-World of Warcraft crossover where it's just YGO characters in the WoW universe (specifically the Legion expansion).

“Oooo...is that what I think it is!?” Ryou questioned, awed by the staff with purple tri-crystals beside Yugi. “You’ve heard of Aluneth?” “Of course I’ve heard of Aluneth! It was once a powerful Arcane entity that the Guardian Aegwynn bound to a staff. But how did you end up with it? Surely something that powerful would be locked away in the vaults of Dalaran!” “I could ask the same of you and your new artifact…” “So I have the skull and spine of an Eredar...that’s nothing compared to a legend that belonged to a Guardian! Your weapon is on the same level as Atiesh, and that’s currently being wielded by Archmage Khadgar himself!” Yugi didn’t think his new artifact was that impressive. Perhaps because of how long he’d studied under Archmage Khadgar, he didn’t think things like this were all that big of a deal. If anything, the artifact was a bit annoying. “I guess I can kinda see where you’re coming from. Personally, I would like it more if the thing would shut up.” “It talks?” “Constantly...and not in a good way. I opened up a portal the other day because I forgot something back in Stormwind, and do you know what it said to me? ‘Have you ever considered opening portals to other worlds? Such power is within your grasp child…’. I don’t know what bothers me more: The fact that it referred to me as a ‘child’, or that it’s even more of a demon’s advocate than you.” Yugi stated, leaning back in his chair while folding his arms across his chest.

[mischievouswritingblog]

Prompt Fic: Rose Tinted Memories

Doing some writing practice with ficlets some prompts.

 “Thank you for agreeing to help.”

 -o-o-o-o-o-

 “Thank you for agreeing to help.” Khadgar said, his voice was barely above a whisper. He could barely believe that his former master was standing at his side. That they would face Sargeras and the Legion together. 

 Fear rolled around in the Archmage’s stomach. Fear of failure, but also fear that this moment was just a dream. That, with a blink, Medivh wouldn’t be there and Khadgar would find himself alone.

 Alone. Such a simple word that held so much weight and terror for Khadgar. He had been alone before, many times. He had lost so much, so many people over the years. One would think that he’d have gotten used to it, numb to it. But it still hurt now, just as much as it did when he plunged a dagger into Medivh’s chest all those years ago.

 Medivh blinked. Khadgar’s words caught him a little off guard. He had been enjoying the relative silence with his former apprentice as they looked out at Azaroth from the Vindicaar. He had been so enamored with the breathtaking view of their world that he almost missed Khadgar’s words entirely.

 Medivh had originally planned to leave after the defeat of Viz’aduum in the upper reaches of his tower home. He was ready to do it but that look Khadgar gave as he asked him to stay. Seeing him standing there, having come so far but still being the Young Trust, he knew under it all. Medivh’s feet were suddenly lead. He couldn’t bring himself to leave.

 “I’m not sure how useful I’ll be. Your friend Turalyon says I’m a potential threat. He’s probably not wrong.” Medivh admitted.

 The mention of Turalyon and the fight Khadgar had with him over Medivh made his stomach twist. His hold on Atiesh tightened a little, as they had thrown harsh words back and forth between them.

 Lately, it had seemed like the universe had been giving some things back to Khadgar. Alleria and Turalyon were here. He had friends in his champions; he had Medivh back, of all things. Yet, everything was still ‘off’. Alleria and Turalyon, he cared about dearly, were very different from when they last saw each other. Both changed by void and light. Turalyon was much harsher, even allowing for his wife to be locked up by Xe’ra. Alleria was wrapped in the embrace of the void. She was colder, more venomous. Khadgar found himself worrying about her, for her sanity. She always had a mean streak. He remembered the times he used to butt heads with Alleria in the past. But this was different. This was much more dangerous.

 Khadgar quietly mourned his friends all over again. That small part of himself that hoped against all hope that they’d be together again finally died. Khadgar had to wonder if the fond memories he had of them were truly real. Being there in their presence, listening to them as they spoke, memories bubbled up. Both the good and bad. Every argument he had with Alleria, his crush on Turalyon, and the pained disappointment when they became a pair. Khadgar still loved them, he still cared about them, but the three of them were more flawed than he cared to admit. He held on to his rose-tinted memories to help him get through the toughest times. 

 Now, that was all peeled away. Khadgar found his ironclad resolve start to waver.

“I’ve been living as a hermit for a long time.” Medivh spoke up, breaking Khadgar away from his thoughts. “Going out now and then for supplies, doing tasks for people in Darkshire. I would tell myself that it was a self-imposed punishment.” Medivh gave Khadgar a moment to let it all sink in. “I wanted to see you when I heard you had returned from Draenor…Or, ‘Outland’, as it’s known now. I even traveled all the way to Dalaran…”

 The memory of that day was still fresh in Medivh’s mind. The feel of his hammering heart as he walked the streets of the mage city. The goosebumps that rose from his skin as he feared recognition, even with how unlikely it was. Disguise aside, his time was a good number of years ago. It was highly unlikely any civilian would have realized who he was, let alone a young student. Still, there may have been someone out there that could. The anxiety only grew with gradual over stimulation of everything Dalaran, from the magic flaunted about the markets to the crowds of civilians, students, and adventurers crept up on him.

 It all boiled over, the moment he caught sight of Khadgar. He was being shown around the city by some eager students. He looked far older then, having a beard that went down to his knees. His hair was all grey, save for a thick streak of pure, bright white that Medivh recognized as Khadgar's signature Mullen stripe. It was him. It really was Khadgar, there and alive. Medivh's feet moved on their own, marching towards him. It took a minute for his mind to catch up with his body's actions. One of the students noticed him, eyeing him, and suddenly it all became too much. Medivh ducked into an alleyway before Khadgar could turn around to see him.

 He couldn't do it. Medivh couldn't face him. So he fled.

 “Honestly, I was just hiding from the world, and the repercussions of my crimes.” Medivh admitted to himself more than anything. It was a truth that needed to be said, that he needed to accept. “I separated my study from the rest of the tower, never realizing what was happening within it. That Moroes and my friends are still there, cursed and having to put up with demons and adventurers. Even now, I’m terrified of facing Sargeras, of the idea that he might…that I might…” Medivh didn’t finish. He looked down at one of his hands and found it trembling. Turalyon had raised the idea that Sargeras might try to use Medivh against them. As much as the magus didn’t want to admit it, it was a very real possibility. “I’m just a coward, Khadgar.”

 “Then why did you stay?” Khadgar asked. There was no accusation in his voice.

 Medivh slowly closed his trembling hand into a fist. “...I...don’t know. I was going to leave, but I couldn’t.”

 “I’d like to think that if there’s one thing I understand, it’s you, Medivh.” Khadgar said with a weary smile. “You were never the type to simply do as you were told. Even back then, you fought Sargeras’ control as much as you could. I’m sure I would have been a pile of ashes if you hadn’t.” Khadgar’s smile grew more fond, he blinked and Medivh could see his eyes had begun to tear up. “I think the two of us standing here, together again, is proof of that.”

 Medivh felt his face heat up. He broke eye contact with Khadgar and returned his gaze to Azaroth. “It was because you asked me to, Khadgar. I saw you there and for a moment, I saw that awkward lad the Kirin Tor threw at me.” Medivh felt his own eyes sting as it was their turn to tear up. “You’ve changed so much but you’re still ‘Young Trust’. You wanted me here and I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘no’ to you.”

 Khadgar couldn’t help the blush that creeped its way into his face. He chewed lightly on his lower lip as he tried to pick out the words he wished to say. 

 “I’m afraid too, Medivh.” Khadgar admitted. “I’ve made so many mistakes as a leader and poor choices as a person. We’re both flawed and damaged people. But I can’t deny that I feel braver with you here, with me.” Khadgar took a chance, reached over, and took Medivh’s hand into his own. He threaded their fingers together. When Medivh gently squeezed back, he felt his heart flutter. “I don’t just want to defeat Sargeras, I want to come out of this alive with you.”

 Medivh couldn’t help but smile a little. “I…wouldn’t mind leaving the tower more after this. Maybe…we could…? Ah…I…”

 “I’d love to show you around Dalaran.” Khadgar said. “I know you never liked it, but there are excellent places to eat. There’s also a very famous bookshop there that has more of those steamy romance novels…”

 “Dear light, you saw all of those?!” Medivh laughed halfway through the sentence.

 “I’ve always known about your smut collection. I had to organize those too back when I was cleaning your library.”

 Medivh’s face grew so hot, so fast that he felt a little lightheaded. His free hand rose up to cover his face. Laughter bubbled up from his chest and broke free. It was light, warm, and almost melodic. It brought a warmth to the room that Khadgar knew so well. At that moment, Medivh was lighter, more vibrant.

 “Excuse me…” a familiar drawling voice spoke. Moroes had arrived, with broom and dustpan in hand. The ever loyal steward refused to let Khadgar and Medivh go off without him. Surprising them both in his ability to leave Karazhan’s tower. Moroes gestured both magi to step aside as he began to sweep up what Khadgar noticed were small, golden crystalline shards. “Honestly, you’d think people around here would know to sweep up random bits of glass. If this junk gets into their hooves, it’ll cause them all sorts of problems.”

 Medivh’s brow furrowed as he stared at the collection of shards that were in Moroes’ dustpan. “Huh, so that’s what that occasional ‘crunch’ under my boots was…”

 “Um, that’s…Khadgar paled as he realized quickly what Moroes was sweeping up. “...That’s not glass.”

 Medivh looked to Khadgar, and then the realization hit him. “Oh, that’s the naru your moody purple friend blew up, isn’t it?”

 “Y-yep…” Khadgar could hear tiny, disjointed tones coming from the shards.

 “I don’t care what it is!” Moroes huffed. “It’s a mess, and it’s everywhere! Do your mage thing and help me clean.”

 “Magic!? Oh no, I couldn’t! I’d never!” Medivh said as an impish smile spread across his face. “I seem to remember a certain someone telling me that magic didn’t belong with cleaning. That all you need is good old-fashioned elbow grease and--”

 “Medivh.” Moroes’ voice was firm. He crossed his arms and gave the magus a firm look. “Enough of your sass or I’ll box you on your ears.”

 “Yes, yes, Mother Hen…” Medivh said, his smile turning warmer. He had very much missed Moroes and was thankful to have him back. He raised both of his hands into the air and his fingers gave a loud, sharp ‘snap’.

 Arcane crackled as mana flowed from Medivh and swirled in the air before shaping itself into multiple brooms. They floated off and went about sweeping and cleaning around the Vindicaar.

 Khadgar would take whatever levity he could get. Being there with Moroes and Medivh was grounding. Something he needed for the trials to come, for when they finally faced Sargeras.

 They would defeat him and get out of it alive, together. Khadgar didn’t need to hold on to rose-tinted memories to push him forward. There was so much to look forward to in the future.

 -The End-

Fic can be found on AO3

[mousterian-writes]

Last year at this time I had a great idea for Staff Envy! Here is the original version of the drool scene, for anyone who is interested in that sort of thing.

The set up for the scene for people who haven't read it- Kel'Thuzad (in disguise as himself before he died, naturally) is at a library in Ironforge researching the location of the base of Atiesh. His ex Modera knows he is looking for this & hid all the relevant materials in her office. KT also recently broke one of his tusks & its very... oozy.

I ended up changing the perspective to Modera's for structural reasons. Plus I thiiink it was more horrific & funnier having it happen to her and then immediatly cut to KT's perspective.

Let me know what you think!

Kel'Thuzad didn't know what was in that office across the hall. It was big, smelled terrible and was currently deconstructing the arcane barrier he threw over the door.

One minute he was hiding in there, waiting for Modera to go back downstairs. Next there was a burst of strange magic, the wood around him began to rot away- and it had nothing to do with him. Couple that with a loud snarl and Kel’Thuzad didn’t wait to find out what it was.

Just because he was a lich it didn't mean he was going to stand there and get mauled.

Kel’Thuzad was so concerned with getting away that he didn’t see Modera burst out of her office and promptly bowled her over.

It took a second to register that he had fallen on top of her.

Kel’Thuzad could feel the mists in his chest tighten even as the fog in his skull fanned out making him blush through his glamor. He hadn't seen her in person for over a decade.

Even though he just tackled her to the floor, not one of her champagne hairs were out of place. Modera was still beautiful. She had a youthful face that defied her age. Her bright plum eyes caught the light in a way that made them sparkle. Right now that sparkle was angry.

He had to say something- Modera’s shock was quickly souring. But what?

Should he apologize? For… running into her?

Say something witty to cut the silence?

How about just a hello.

He opened his mouth. Unfortunately, to both their surprise, before he could say anything Kel’Thuzad drooled all the resin that had been draining into his mouth for the last ten minutes…onto Modera’s chest.

For a moment neither said anything. They both just stared in horror.

The detergent sting of lemon filled the room.

Modera was the first to act. With a disgusted snarl she shoved Kel’Thuzad off of her and sprang to her feet. “What the hell was that!”

Kel’Thuzad wiped the spittle off his chin as Modera sniffed her hand. “Er, that’s not poisonous,” he said. Or was it? “...I think.”

“I smell like floor cleaner!”

Modera stalked forward, her eyes sparkled with the promise of violence. Kel’Thuzad scrambled away, desperate to diffuse the situation. There were still those things to consider. That bronzy signature was growing stronger by the second. “Now, I can explain- incidentally how familiar are you with lich physiology?”

[danniswrites]

Hate Speech Kills

It is time to take #toxicspeech seriously when #onlinegaming and report #bullying when you see it in chat while #gaming. Don't ignore it. You might save a life. #hatespeech is never okay and leads to #abuse.

I included a lot of links, so scan through and find one that interests you, but I hope you will read them all. Bullying and abuse go hand in hand, and if we all speak up, we can make the Internet a less toxic place. Knowing something more about the problem than your encounters with rude people is a good start.

Gamingaddiction is a serious problem among adolescents

https://ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC9961121/…

Here is a study on trashtalk and abuse in #worldofwarcraft. Warning, there is bad language from examples given.

Gaming Companies Need to Do More

Please do more to stop this. Gaming should be #safeforwomen Please report abuse in your games! https://tcjournal.org/vol8/jackson/

@blizzardentertainment If enough of us stand up to #bullying we can stop this.

Why I Am Posting About This

I am a 65 year old woman gamer. I play World Of Warcraft among other games. I was in World Of Warcraft Classic Wrath Of The Lich King this morning. Was in a pretty good mood.

I am getting used to a new server. You see, I was on Myzrael, but WOW is coming out with the Classic Cataclysm Expansion this month, and they are consolidating servers. So I got free transfers for all my toons from Myzrael to Atiesh, and my first day on Atiesh was pretty pleasant. After all, the guild that I'm a member of moved there and they are a bunch of really nice people I've known for years.

So, I was moving some things around in my bank when I noticed LookingForGroup chat was getting really raunchy. Someone started spouting obvious hate speech against women, using the phrase Be A Man repeatedly and saying things from tell her she's fat to things I cannot repeat here. I was very upset and still am. I feel that there should be protections for women like me, women who were abused and trigger on things like this. It's not enough to be able to /ignore the person who's talking. It's not enough to get a free addon to mask comments like these from my chat. People like this should be stopped. Bullies run in families, yet they are often admired because they are perceived as strong. Read this article for more info. It's eye-opening.

So, bullying in schools is breeding psychosis in children. Who may grow up to be social problems. It's not just a problem in gaming, but in schools and workplaces. They need #mentalhealth care. And, the problem may push depressed teens into suicide. We need to all stand up and make our voices heard. This is my problem, and I am going to own it and speak up wherever I am online. I hope this post inspires you to do the same.

#hate speech against #Women #minoritiesmatter If you like my graphic, please post it on your social media. Find it on Canva here, this link brings up my free template.

You may alter it in the template. I want to make a difference, and so can you! Photo by Khoa Võ: https://www.pexels.com/photo/unhappy-thoughtful-teen-girl-arms-crossed-in-rainy-day-5430077/ Description for speech readers: Sad woman viewed through rainy window with text: Hate Speech Kills. Report It. Speak Up. Online games should be fun, not traumatic. Report abuse. You might save a life.

[theater-of-the-mind]

Prompt Fic: Rose Tinted Memories

Doing some writing practice with ficlets some prompts from this list.

AO3 Version can be found here.

 “Thank you for agreeing to help.”

 -o-o-o-o-o-

 “Thank you for agreeing to help.” Khadgar said, his voice was barely above a whisper. He could barely believe that his former master was standing at his side. That they would face Sargeras and the Legion together. 

 Fear rolled around in the Archmage’s stomach. Fear of failure, but also fear that this moment was just a dream. That, with a blink, Medivh wouldn’t be there and Khadgar would find himself alone.

 Alone. Such a simple word that held so much weight and terror for Khadgar. He had been alone before, many times. He had lost so much, so many people over the years. One would think that he’d have gotten used to it, numb to it. But it still hurt now, just as much as it did when he plunged a dagger into Medivh’s chest all those years ago.

 Medivh blinked. Khadgar’s words caught him a little off guard. He had been enjoying the relative silence with his former apprentice as they looked out at Azaroth from the Vindicaar. He had been so enamored with the breathtaking view of their world that he almost missed Khadgar’s words entirely.

 Medivh had originally planned to leave after the defeat of Viz’aduum in the upper reaches of his tower home. He was ready to do it but that look Khadgar gave as he asked him to stay. Seeing him standing there, having come so far but still being the Young Trust, he knew under it all. Medivh’s feet were suddenly lead. He couldn’t bring himself to leave.

 “I’m not sure how useful I’ll be. Your friend Turalyon says I’m a potential threat. He’s probably not wrong.” Medivh admitted.

 The mention of Turalyon and the fight Khadgar had with him over Medivh made his stomach twist. His hold on Atiesh tightened a little, as they had thrown harsh words back and forth between them.

 Lately, it had seemed like the universe had been giving some things back to Khadgar. Alleria and Turalyon were here. He had friends in his champions; he had Medivh back, of all things. Yet, everything was still ‘off’. Alleria and Turalyon, he cared about dearly, were very different from when they last saw each other. Both changed by void and light. Turalyon was much harsher, even allowing for his wife to be locked up by Xe’ra. Alleria was wrapped in the embrace of the void. She was colder, more venomous. Khadgar found himself worrying about her, for her sanity. She always had a mean streak. He remembered the times he used to butt heads with Alleria in the past. But this was different. This was much more dangerous.

 Khadgar quietly mourned his friends all over again. That small part of himself that hoped against all hope that they’d be together again finally died. Khadgar had to wonder if the fond memories he had of them were truly real. Being there in their presence, listening to them as they spoke, memories bubbled up. Both the good and bad. Every argument he had with Alleria, his crush on Turalyon, and the pained disappointment when they became a pair. Khadgar still loved them, he still cared about them, but the three of them were more flawed than he cared to admit. He held on to his rose-tinted memories to help him get through the toughest times. 

 Now, that was all peeled away. Khadgar found his ironclad resolve start to waver.

“I’ve been living as a hermit for a long time.” Medivh spoke up, breaking Khadgar away from his thoughts. “Going out now and then for supplies, doing tasks for people in Darkshire. I would tell myself that it was a self-imposed punishment.” Medivh gave Khadgar a moment to let it all sink in. “I wanted to see you when I heard you had returned from Draenor…Or, ‘Outland’, as it’s known now. I even traveled all the way to Dalaran…”

 The memory of that day was still fresh in Medivh’s mind. The feel of his hammering heart as he walked the streets of the mage city. The goosebumps that rose from his skin as he feared recognition, even with how unlikely it was. Disguise aside, his time was a good number of years ago. It was highly unlikely any civilian would have realized who he was, let alone a young student. Still, there may have been someone out there that could. The anxiety only grew with gradual over stimulation of everything Dalaran, from the magic flaunted about the markets to the crowds of civilians, students, and adventurers crept up on him.

 It all boiled over, the moment he caught sight of Khadgar. He was being shown around the city by some eager students. He looked far older then, having a beard that went down to his knees. His hair was all grey, save for a thick streak of pure, bright white that Medivh recognized as Khadgar's signature Mullen stripe. It was him. It really was Khadgar, there and alive. Medivh's feet moved on their own, marching towards him. It took a minute for his mind to catch up with his body's actions. One of the students noticed him, eyeing him, and suddenly it all became too much. Medivh ducked into an alleyway before Khadgar could turn around to see him.

 He couldn't do it. Medivh couldn't face him. So he fled.

 “Honestly, I was just hiding from the world, and the repercussions of my crimes.” Medivh admitted to himself more than anything. It was a truth that needed to be said, that he needed to accept. “I separated my study from the rest of the tower, never realizing what was happening within it. That Moroes and my friends are still there, cursed and having to put up with demons and adventurers. Even now, I’m terrified of facing Sargeras, of the idea that he might…that I might…” Medivh didn’t finish. He looked down at one of his hands and found it trembling. Turalyon had raised the idea that Sargeras might try to use Medivh against them. As much as the magus didn’t want to admit it, it was a very real possibility. “I’m just a coward, Khadgar.”

 “Then why did you stay?” Khadgar asked. There was no accusation in his voice.

 Medivh slowly closed his trembling hand into a fist. “...I...don’t know. I was going to leave, but I couldn’t.”

 “I’d like to think that if there’s one thing I understand, it’s you, Medivh.” Khadgar said with a weary smile. “You were never the type to simply do as you were told. Even back then, you fought Sargeras’ control as much as you could. I’m sure I would have been a pile of ashes if you hadn’t.” Khadgar’s smile grew more fond, he blinked and Medivh could see his eyes had begun to tear up. “I think the two of us standing here, together again, is proof of that.”

 Medivh felt his face heat up. He broke eye contact with Khadgar and returned his gaze to Azaroth. “It was because you asked me to, Khadgar. I saw you there and for a moment, I saw that awkward lad the Kirin Tor threw at me.” Medivh felt his own eyes sting as it was their turn to tear up. “You’ve changed so much but you’re still ‘Young Trust’. You wanted me here and I couldn’t bring myself to say ‘no’ to you.”

 Khadgar couldn’t help the blush that creeped its way into his face. He chewed lightly on his lower lip as he tried to pick out the words he wished to say. 

 “I’m afraid too, Medivh.” Khadgar admitted. “I’ve made so many mistakes as a leader and poor choices as a person. We’re both flawed and damaged people. But I can’t deny that I feel braver with you here, with me.” Khadgar took a chance, reached over, and took Medivh’s hand into his own. He threaded their fingers together. When Medivh gently squeezed back, he felt his heart flutter. “I don’t just want to defeat Sargeras, I want to come out of this alive with you.”

 Medivh couldn’t help but smile a little. “I…wouldn’t mind leaving the tower more after this. Maybe…we could…? Ah…I…”

 “I’d love to show you around Dalaran.” Khadgar said. “I know you never liked it, but there are excellent places to eat. There’s also a very famous bookshop there that has more of those steamy romance novels…”

 “Dear light, you saw all of those?!” Medivh laughed halfway through the sentence.

 “I’ve always known about your smut collection. I had to organize those too back when I was cleaning your library.”

 Medivh’s face grew so hot, so fast that he felt a little lightheaded. His free hand rose up to cover his face. Laughter bubbled up from his chest and broke free. It was light, warm, and almost melodic. It brought a warmth to the room that Khadgar knew so well. At that moment, Medivh was lighter, more vibrant.

 “Excuse me…” a familiar drawling voice spoke. Moroes had arrived, with broom and dustpan in hand. The ever loyal steward refused to let Khadgar and Medivh go off without him. Surprising them both in his ability to leave Karazhan’s tower. Moroes gestured both magi to step aside as he began to sweep up what Khadgar noticed were small, golden crystalline shards. “Honestly, you’d think people around here would know to sweep up random bits of glass. If this junk gets into their hooves, it’ll cause them all sorts of problems.”

 Medivh’s brow furrowed as he stared at the collection of shards that were in Moroes’ dustpan. “Huh, so that’s what that occasional ‘crunch’ under my boots was…”

 “Um, that’s…Khadgar paled as he realized quickly what Moroes was sweeping up. “...That’s not glass.”

 Medivh looked to Khadgar, and then the realization hit him. “Oh, that’s the naru your moody purple friend blew up, isn’t it?”

 “Y-yep…” Khadgar could hear tiny, disjointed tones coming from the shards.

 “I don’t care what it is!” Moroes huffed. “It’s a mess, and it’s everywhere! Do your mage thing and help me clean.”

 “Magic!? Oh no, I couldn’t! I’d never!” Medivh said as an impish smile spread across his face. “I seem to remember a certain someone telling me that magic didn’t belong with cleaning. That all you need is good old-fashioned elbow grease and--”

 “Medivh.” Moroes’ voice was firm. He crossed his arms and gave the magus a firm look. “Enough of your sass or I’ll box you on your ears.”

 “Yes, yes, Mother Hen…” Medivh said, his smile turning warmer. He had very much missed Moroes and was thankful to have him back. He raised both of his hands into the air and his fingers gave a loud, sharp ‘snap’.

 Arcane crackled as mana flowed from Medivh and swirled in the air before shaping itself into multiple brooms. They floated off and went about sweeping and cleaning around the Vindicaar.

 Khadgar would take whatever levity he could get. Being there with Moroes and Medivh was grounding. Something he needed for the trials to come, for when they finally faced Sargeras.

 They would defeat him and get out of it alive, together. Khadgar didn’t need to hold on to rose-tinted memories to push him forward. There was so much to look forward to in the future.

 -The End-

[maxiecabphotography]

“What followed were a series of tragic events, leading to the death of every Kirin Tor mage that came into contact with Atiesh. You see, it was an artifact with sentience. A sentience granted to it by Sargeras...”

[thewritingof-therose]

Illidan/Maiev 13? 👉👈

13. things you said at the kitchen table

"And at that moment, I saw the light leaving that adventurer's eyes. I thought they were going to attack me, and I prepared a sheep spell, just in case. But they just said "Oh, alright. Thanks." and turned around. I think they were found lying down in the dirt a little further away," Khadgar explained, playing with his fork as if he was spinning his staff around his hand.

"I did warn you that your calculation was off," Velen sighed.

"No, you didn't."

Velen put down his cutlery, intertwined his fingers as his hands rested on the table. He cleared his throat.

"Are you sure about it?" he repeated, just like that morning once Khadgar had enunciated the numbers of shards he needed.

The Archmage opened his mouth to complain, but then, he slowly came back to the realization that the Prophet's eyes were glowing once he had turned around to cast doubts on the quests. If it wasn't because he was seeing the future at the exact moment, Khadgar was ready to break down Atiesh in small part again and eat each of them. Unfortunately for everyone gathered there, he wasn't going to own his mistake.

"It wasn't sounding as such," Khadgar even shrugged, now avoiding Velen's gaze.

The sigh that came from the Draenei was quite obviously telling that he was feeling too old to deal with all of this.

Further away, Maiev rolled her eyes --- to be unnoticed thanks to her helmet staying on her face. She had taken the habit to only remove it to eat, fast, and then putting it back. It was mostly because she wanted to be able to react to the insanity that table could display when all the commandants of Legionfall were reunited for a dinner. They said it was to talk strategy. It was a lie. She was only showing up because it was her duty.

And for something else...

A badly disguised snort grabbed her attention. In front of her, Illidan was badly sitting --- his body turned towards the two other men, and his arms resting on the table. It was giving the impression that he was ignoring the Warden, and yet his eyes were obviously on her. Shining bright through the blindfold, telling her that he was intentionally using his spectral sight to see through the metal protecting her face. And he had send a sign that he had seen her rolling her eyes.

She stared at him with her usual deadly hate.

His grin grew over his face.

She stuck her tongue at him.

He pretended to send her a kiss with his lips.

She let her head fall back a little, as if she groaning, but she couldn't fight her lips curving.

After all, even if she had a really good control of her expression around people, usually making them regret to be alive just by her sheer presence, when she knew that only Illidan could see it, it was harder to hide. As if her Warden persona wasn't a problem anymore.

On the other side of the table, Khadgar and Velen kept on arguing about whether or not the Archmage should own his mistake of the day. If Maiev was just being herself by not caring at all about the ruckus, Illidan was good enough to intervene while keeping the little game of facial expression with the Warden.

After all, it was more than enough for them. If there was any words to be said, it would be in a private setting.

It was far from bothering them.

[archmage--khadgar]

"Not even death can save you from me!" - Diablo, the Prime Evil

(GOD I am so sorry, I’ve been sitting on this for so long, waiting for the muse, I have no idea where the original prompt meme list is - iirc the prompt was to send a line from the list + a character to get a writing drabble out of it. ) A sharp pain accompanied each of  Khadgar's breaths. He flinched, gingerly placing his right hand over his chest.  One of his ribs was most certainly broken, perhaps two.  The air smelled of smoke and blood; blood that trickled down his face from an unknown wound as his entire body ached - his only indication that he was still, in fact, alive.  Khadgar took a few heavy breaths before responding to the demon.

"I think...you'll find...Lord of Terror...that it takes more than that to frighten me."  He swallowed the urge to cry out in pain and inhaled sharply through his nose.  Diablo narrowed his eyes curiously, deeply amused.   The low growl that emitted from his throat turned into a raspy chuckle. He slinked as he paced around the Archmage and swished his tail back and forth like a snake ready to strike. 

"I see Archmages are just as foolish as Archangels. I, alone, brought down the Diamond Gates into the Silver City, and all of High Heaven trembled at my feet. You are a mere mortal, flesh-cursed Nephalem of Azeroth, and I am the Prime Evil, fear me!"  Diablo bellowed, eagerly awaiting for Khadgar to succumb. The Archmage firmly planted Atiesh into the ground, using it to help him stand straight as he panted; he couldn't help but give a quick smirk as he tried to catch his breath.

"And I defeated the vessel of Sargeras, The Dark Titan, creator, and Lord of the Burning Legion when I was a mere boy. Fear me." Diablo snarled and roared at Khadgar's retort; he feared no mortal! His tailed whipped around as he attempted to strike the Archmage; instead, the spikes and rough skin connected with a block of ice, with Khadgar safely entombed. The block of ice slid across the cobblestone road and tumbled over, melting away almost immediately with Khadgar no worse off than he already had been.  "Clever."  "I like to think so!" Khadgar avoided the next tail swipe by turning into a raven and flying just out of range. The tail struck one of the small homes and reduced it to rubble. Thankfully, no one had been inside.  "Coward! Are you fleeing?"  "Me? Run? Never! Perish the thought! I just wanted to see how close you were."  "Close? Close to what?" Diablo snorted. He was not near any ledge, and there were no traps lain at his feet. Reinforcements, perhaps? He stepped to the side to inspect the area, making sure there was no one else about to leap out to aid the Archmage in fighting him. Well, it was now or never. Khadgar quickly landed on a roof and shifted back into his human form. Arcane danced around his fingers as he focused on the demon with desperate determination. Satisfied that the Archmage has simply been spouting nonsense,  Diablo slowly turned to face him once again. "Your pathetic tricks will not -" Poff. It wasn't a perfect polymorph - the sheep was red and had some extra horns and his eyes were bright as fire, but he'll take it!  Khadgar allowed himself to smile, amused, as he prepared his next spell. The sheeped Diablo skreed in anger; he did not care that this spell was temporary, it was an insult to his very being. He ran towards the Archmage as he felt the spell begin to wear off, wanting to be in striking range once he shifted back.  At least, that was the plan until he ran out of...ground.  Khadgar waved goodbye as the Prime Sheepvil disappeared into a portal that had been summoned right under him.  

Once more, he shifted into a raven and flew a bit into the air as mere moments later, Diablo, roaring in rage, plummeted from the sky and slammed into the ground. Everything shook, and a few buildings that were already struggling to remain standing finally toppled over.  Was he dead? Most likely not, but he was certainly defeated for the moment.

Conventional? No. Effective? Yes. What else was Khadgar to do without the help of 40 of Azeroth's finest champions?  Unable to comfortably sustain raven form, he once more shifted back and sat on the ground, wheezing, but...happy!

"I'm not sure I like the Nexus." He said out loud to no one in particular. Though he was certain he could hear a distant voice laughing as a rumbly groan emitted from Diablo. He did not rise, although his tail occasionally twitched. It wasn't long before Tyrael himself, landed next to Khadgar followed promptly by a second raven, who quickly shifted to reveal Medivh.

"Khadgar! Tyrael and I are here, are you -..." He paused to glance between his former apprentice, with a shit-eating grin on his face, to Diablo, who still hadn't moved. "Young Trust, you are impossible. How did you manage to...?" "Oh...I polymorphed him into something more manageable and dropped him through a portal." "You what." Tyrael tsked slightly, amused? Concerned? It was hard to say. "Remind me, friends, to never anger the children of Azeroth." He hummed.  "You are all incredibly difficult to defeat." Khadgar winced as he shrugged. "Honestly, the Prime Evil isn't the largest thing I've ever had to fight. Once you've defeated something larger than an entire planet, everything else seems...manageable." Tyrael's face could not be seen, but as he slowly turned his head to stare at Khadgar, his voice gave his hidden expression away. "I...I beg your pardon?" "Oh yes, we have this sort of problem as frequently as it rains in a wetland," Khadgar grunted as Medivh helped him to his feet. "Hush, Young trust. You need healing. Come come, let us leave before Diablo awakens." Tyrael turned to look at Diablo, then back to the Guardian and the Archmage as they cautiously, but quickly, left the area. He did this several times as he struggled to process that information.  He glanced down at the ground briefly, before back at Diablo. "I see now, why the Nexus is always recruiting the children of Azeroth." He paused. "I have no desire to ever visit that realm." Diablo gave one final groan in reply as he gave up on moving for the foreseeable future.

[shadowphoenixrider]

Seeds

(Okay, I’ve had this idea floating around in my head for ages, and this prompt was the best chance to actually put it down! Because it’s canon to Draggka/Khadgar, it’s being treated like a Proper Fic(tm). So people get tagged. YEA: @walkingdisasterofamage​, @sigurdjarlson​, @galleywinter​, @fer8girl​, @elfgirl931​ and @wingslovesfiction​)

(Set in early Warlords of Draenor)

16 - Feeding birds

The weather was particularly mild on the day Khadgar strolled through Frostwall, stepping out of the way of peons hurriedly ferrying crates to and fro. They paid the human mage little mind - even the Darkspear guards merely nodded at him as he passed, and he felt a little swell of pride as he wondered if this was the beginning of some sort of peace between the two factions. Surely if they could tolerate him, maybe they could tolerate each other...?

That wasn’t the main issue on his mind this time, however - it was to find Frostwall’s commander, who he hoped might be in the garrison’s central Town Hall. He had asked a few of the patrolling guards, but all they could offer was that she might be out adventuring. Khadgar hoped not - adventurers could be notoriously difficult to track down, and hunters more so. Only rogues could compete with how completely a hunter could melt away into the background.

The archmage was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the wheezy grunts and coughs that came from behind him. It was only when his robes were tugged with some force did he snap back to reality, and turned around to see the culprit.

Said culprit was a scarred red raptor that Khadgar recognised as Draggka’s companion Spike, peering up at him with bright blue eyes. His mood buoyed - a hunter was never too far from their pet.

“Hello there,” he said, smiling down at the raptor. “I’m looking for your companion Draggka. Could you perhaps take me to her?”

Spike tilted his head, then bobbed it in what looked like a nod, uttering a raptor-bark and jerking his head in a ‘follow me’ gesture.

“Lead on. I’ll be right behind you.” Khadgar said, following in the beast’s wake.

He led the mage out of Frostwall and into the sparse woodland clinging to the rocky hill the fortress was nestled into. He did briefly wonder if the raptor was leading him into a trap, but dismissed the thought with a shake of his head - he was fairly confident that the troll wouldn’t do such a thing.

Spike brought him to a large rock jutting out of the snowy ground, and stopped next to it, looking from it to the mage.

“What? Where is-?” As Khadgar spoke, the raptor snapped at him, shaking his head. To the archmage’s surprise, Spike dipped his head, placing a claw to his mouth in an unmistakable ‘shush’ gesture, before he nodded to the rock again.

Impressed (and slightly unsettled) by the raptor’s intelligence, Khadgar silently hauled himself up onto the rock to see what was on the other side. What he saw made him freeze.

Down below him was Draggka, kneeling in the snow by a tree, her hands cupped together and full of what appeared to be seeds. Movement in the tree drew his eyes to a plump orange and white bird, hopping down to the lowest branch and peering down at the troll and the food in her hands.

Khadgar inched himself a little more onto the boulder, unwilling to move further in case he disturbed the scene in front him.

Draggka didn’t move from her position; aside from the steam lifting from her nose and the occasional blink she could have been mistaken for a statue. The bird edged closer along the branch, clearly warring with itself whether it should take the food that was possibly being held by a predator. It tilted its head, uttering small twittering noises. Khadgar could have sworn he saw the troll’s ears twitch.

The little bird reached the end of its branch, and leaned down towards her. If it stretched any further, it would have to take wing or fall. The mage barely dared to even breathe.

A chirrup, and the bird fluttered to land on Draggka’s hands. After a pensive stare at the hunter, it began to peck at the seeds, at first tentatively, then more hungrily as it felt safer. Khadgar slowly released the breath he’d been holding, smiling broadly.

What a beautiful scene to witness. Had he wanted to tear his eyes away from the sight, he would have thanked Spike for allowing him to see the raptor’s companion so unguarded and tender. The archmage was briefly reminded of all the text books, tomes and lectures about trolls - described as savage, bloodthirsty creatures, who enjoyed death, torture and other horrible things. And yet here was one feeding a bird out of what seemed to be the kindness of her heart. She hadn’t moved an inch as her feathery friend pecked away, but he could see her smile from his perch. Despite the chill, the sight warmed him.

For reasons known only to itself, the bird decided enough was enough, and after a friendly chirrup at the troll, it flew off into the trees. Finally able to move again, Draggka’s smile broke into a grin, looking rightfully proud of herself, and wondrously happy.

Khadgar decided that was the perfect time to leave, and not intrude on her privacy any longer. He’d head back to the garrison and meet her there; he could send his servant out to let her know he awaited her.

Before he could shuffle back and off the rock, however, Khadgar was suddenly pushed forcefully from behind. Balanced as awkwardly as he was, with no grip to speak off and taken by surprise, the mage tumbled off the boulder with a cry, landing in a completely ungainly heap in the snow.

A loud Zandali expletive sounded out from the startled hunter, whilst Khadgar groaned, slowly moving to sit upright and cursing the new aches and bruises that would greet him the next morning. And the snow that had managed to get down the back of his neck.

“Archmage?! What are ya doin’ here?” Draggka demanded, one fist hidden awkwardly behind her back as she strode over to him.

“I-I’m sorry, Commander. I, I didn’t mean to surprise you.” He stuttered, grabbing Atiesh and using it to get to his feet in a hopefully more dignified manner than his entrance had been. “I’ve been looking for you, to speak to you in regards to my plan to find Kairos.” He flashed her a weak smile. “I, um, saw your raptor, and followed him to this area.” His eyes darted around, searching for Spike and finding him completely absent. Despite the fact the raptor was bright red amongst white snow. “And, I, well, stumbled upon you. Quite literally, it seems!” He grinned widely, feeling the awkwardness crawl down his neck and a blush rise into his face. “I-I’m sorry if, if I interrupted anything...private.”

She did not look convinced by his pathetic explanation, one eyebrow arching up her forehead. Thankfully, she politely humoured him.

“I see. Well, if ya be wanting to talk ‘bout what we be doing next, we best be headin’ back to da garrison.” She tilted her head, her eyes taking him in with a critical edge. “Ya be needin’ to get somewhere warm before dat snow chills ya.”

“Snow?” Khadgar blinked stupidly. “Oh, yes!” He chuckled, brushing off the bits that hadn’t yet melted into his robes. “O-Of course. A very good idea, Commander. Please, lead on. Perhaps your friend will rejoin us when he’s finished...doing whatever it is he does.”

“He will. He never be far from me.” Draggka smiled, genuinely now as they began their walk. “Be good of him to be leading ya to me. He must like ya.”

“Oh, really?” He was surprised, both at the information and how strangely proud he felt about it. Yet he couldn’t help but feel the raptor’s intentions hadn’t been entirely pure. Especially since he had mysteriously disappeared after the wizard’s fall.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Usually he just be ignoring people.”

“I see. So he wouldn’t deliberately mislead someone following him, like for instance, leading them into a trap?” Or to make a complete fool of themselves in front of someone?

“Oh no, he can be misleading people, but only enemies.” She replied, giving him a look. “Dat be an odd ting to say.”

“O-Oh well,” Khadgar laughed nervously, face burning up. “I-I’d heard that it’s a tactic some, some hunters use. I was wondering if, if it was perhaps one you used yourself?”

The troll giggled, and the sounds was so pure and benign it made him smile.

“Ah, but dat be a secret, Archmage! I can’t be telling ya my battle tactics. Den ya be using dem against me!”

“Oh no no, not all!” Khadgar hurriedly assured her, despite her mirth. “You are my ally, a-and a trusted one too. Anything you say to me is in trusted confidence. I will not breathe a word to anyone.” He brought a finger to his lips.

“Uh huh.” Draggka didn’t sound convinced, but her smile was still there, which Khadgar found reassuring.

Elsewhere, just out of sight, Spike watched them as they walked back. He sighed, blowing a breath out of his nose.

This was going to take some work.

(Link to challenge)

[beholderfartz]

Poll!

Stream is offline right now, but thank you to everyone who stopped by, we really appreciate it! See you tomorrow at 5pm EST - what would you like to see?

World of Warcraft Classic

or

Diablo 3

Atiesh Server - Jellodrop - Mage - level 7

[patchdotexe]

ive also been playing some wow classic now that i have my gaming pc again!! rn on atiesh i have Stevenson the dwarf rogue and Mandevery the human warrior, w/ mandevery being a remake of a character i have on retail who i originally made as like, “in case of sub expiring, break glass” lmao

i also have Kao the nelf druid and Zippers the gnome... mage....??? but i havent played them yet, and im planning to make some horde characters too

honestly classic is like. its weird? but also surprisingly fun. i mean it kept being presented to me as “its weird and has no quality of life improvements, you probably wont play past lv10, it might not be fun” but im having fun! its really cool to run around pre-cata eastern kingdoms, especially seeing how much things have changed vs what’s still familiar.

as far as leveling goes its... well, weird. also money is waaayyyy more of a big deal, considering im running around w/ like 3k gold on my monk in retail but im lucky to get more than a couple silvers at a time in classic, especially with it costing money to get my skills ghkdjfhgdkfjg but at lv6 my rogue already has a fun rotation and also now that i have stealth+pickpocket its a bit easier for me to save up copper

that being said, switching back to retail after playing classic for a few hours is SUPER disorienting. and that’s just going from Classic Logic to playing my monk or demon hunter, its gonna be way more brain-breaking once i start playing kao and then swap back to cat on retail

[huffle-puppy]

@drew-winchester​ So I made another thing... And you may be wondering what this link above is, but please read this all first to the end! It’s apples and oranges which of the two I’ve written hits harder, but it’s in very different ways so it’s hard to tell, I guess. Ajelee and Chún are my own (won’t get to see them in my fic for a few years yet sadly) and I had to take a little bit of liberty imagining for future, older Khadgrin... Hopefully everyone is still in character! Enjoy! Sorry if it’s hard to get through (and please excuse my voice in song; I’m not a beautiful Night Elf lass--just a lad getting over a cold trying to sing into a Voice Memos app ^w^;)

The Silent Rainfall:

She noticed it far too late. It wasn’t a big thing; it wasn’t the end of the world, but it was, and she realized that when it was long, long past.

    Khadgar decided to stay in bed.

    It was perfectly fine; their picnic date had been interrupted by the sudden onslaught of a mass of grey above. The clouds were soft and dark, rippling over Karazhan’s towers, quiet and purposeful. The downpour slicked the stones and thrust against the mortar, but the structure was solid, and the magic within it was too powerful to die with the oversight of faulty walls.

    It was true--their home did not usually get sunshine. They took their picnics out in Elwynn forest, and while she laughed and flew off as she always had, a large druidic bird of pink feathers, a small voice in her mind murmured that Khadgar hadn’t used Atiesh’s flying form in a few months. Perhaps it had been years, now? He smiled and chased after her, but it was on the back of one of their gryphons, sent off to graze and chase doe as they ate.

    Gryphons, he’d often griped, gave him saddle-sores, which she had always laughed at and remarked something about kissing wounds that still managed to cast a blush over his features, despite their increasing lines.

    “Mm--!” She stretched up from their bed, the covers falling down to her legs. The shirt beneath was soft and loose, and she yawned as the bliss of sleep faded back. Her white hair fell in a mess, and she hummed an old tune as she collected herself and braided it into a thick tail to lay over her shoulder and down her chest. The hum paused abruptly when she realized that she couldn’t remember the name of the song, or anyone else who might’ve heard it, so she looked out the paned window to the rain instead and listened to its soft tapping.

    Her gaze drifted down lovingly to her husband, bundled up nice and neat so that only his white hair and the start of his face could be seen. Against his eyes there were crow’s feet now, and his cheeks had drawn in some, despite her best attempts to feed him well. He was far from gaunt--ooh, how he still could make her weak in the knees, casting a dashing gaze her way--but it was a noticeable difference in their portraits.

    He shifted about and settled again, taking a long breath. “Morning.”

    She leaned down, kissing his cheek. The light from outside cast shadows through the rain along his face, looking like the ghosts of tears. “Morning.”

    She shifted about again, turning and lighting the candle at the bedside table, letting it shine through their apartment. Despite his stature, his achievements, and his complete ownership of Karazhan, he had chosen one of the smaller bedrooms for theirs, those many decades ago. Painted views adorned the walls of things long lost; Teldrassil’s beauty, Turalyon and Alleria, the childhood faces of Arator, Avalon, and Anaël.

    “It’s raining?” he mumbled, voice still amassed in sleep.

    “Mhm!” She nestled back down against his back, kissing his ear. “Clouds above as far as the eye can see--maybe even going into Elwynn.”

    “Ah, they probably are--” with a grunt and a strong push, he finally made it over onto his back, looking up at her with a worn smile. Those blue eyes had never lost their tender sparkle.

    “Hi.”

    She giggled, putting a hand over his cheek to cover the rainfall. “Hi.”

    He pulled her down into a kiss, and nothing in the world was wrong.

    The hours passed by uneventfully, in bliss and warmth and comfort, without responsibility or anyone else at all. They stayed huddled in the rain, close, pleasing themselves with their company. Lunchtime came and went, and finally when the grey clouds started to get darker as the sun fell behind them, there was a timid knock on the door from one of the stewards they’d kept in their employment to tend to the vast reaches of their home.

    Perry called back that everything was fine, and the steward replied that dinner was set for them downstairs. She thanked him, and they heard him wander away through the halls.

    “Dinner time,” she said, kissing him once more before sitting up again and stretching. “C’mon~!”

    She started out of bed and was to the doorway before she realized he hadn’t followed. She glanced back along the dark room to him, his face lit against the dark blue blankets by candlelight.

    “C’mon, Bubbly~ We need to eat.”

    “Hm.”

    She blinked, blinked again, and her smile slowly faded against her cheeks.

    “Are you all right, love?”

    “M’fine; I’m fine,” he said, voice softer than she remembered it being in recent years. “Just-- don’t-- I don’t much feel like getting up, is all.”

    Perry giggled, sauntering back over to the bedside. “I see, so you want dinner in bed and to be pampered, dearest?”

    A bemused, wistful smile played along his mouth in the candlelight. She giggled again and leaned down, teasing, stopping inches from him.

    “Dinner in bed, then, and I’ll see what I can manage about pampering.”

    He laughed and stuck out his tongue. She stuck her own out back at him, licking the end of his, then darted back with a squeak and a peal of laughter, overdramatically pawing at her mouth. “Ewwww!”

    Khadgar heaved out a sigh and rolled his eyes, grinning.

    Perry grinned back, moving out the door, thinking nothing of her husband staying in bed until the next day came and went without any change in his position. He was still cordial, but he was low-energy; the days of youth spent asking adventurers for exactly 2,500 Nethershards--IT HAD TO BE EXACTLY 2,500! were gone. He was mature.

    He was slowing down.

    The rain beat softly against the window, and she tried in vain to lift him from the bed. She laughed, making it a game, trying to hide the pit of dread growing in her stomach. She stepped out of his reach, sultry and teasing, biting her lip and waiting for him to follow--but all he could do was watch after her with a dramatic pout that faded slowly into a wistful gaze, and something caught in the edge of his eyes she couldn’t identify. She didn’t want to identify.

    Fear.

    Acceptance.

    She threw the thoughts aside, clambering back into the bed with him and submitting that he wouldn’t chase after her anymore, making them both forget with momentary kisses and conversations of other things. Old reminisces were brought back; long-lost adventures, musings about where acquaintances had gone off to, what their foolish children had gotten themselves up to and how many grandchildren would come to visit next Winter’s Veil.

    And all the while, the sick, cold pit lodged in her chest sat and festered, coming back to twist her nerves when he said again he’d prefer dinner in bed. She smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek, getting it, unable to shake off the feeling that she shouldn’t tarry along the way.

    The third day came and went.

    The fourth.

    The fifth.

    Khadgar had grown quieter. The rain had stayed all throughout, and Perry wished it would go away and cast the brilliant sunlight back into their home; that the stars would light up the night sky again and they could rush outside and onto a hill, lying down side by side with nothing but the wide vaults of the heavens above. She brought up memory after memory, and he listened and smiled and added on sometimes, but the days were overwhelmingly full of her voice and his love of it.

    On the sixth day, she instructed the stewards to bring two old friends, the best healers she knew in Azeroth, and her children as soon as was possible, then hurried back to her husband’s side, afraid to miss a moment with him.

    Word was brought back that both of her children and their families were in the midst of important work for the factions, and that they would come as soon as possible. A few hours later, Ajelee and Chún Moonleaf came, quickly joining her in the grand, empty ballroom downstairs. She had known Lee far longer; he was an Archdruid, as she was, a druid of balance as well as restoration. He was imposing and quite a bit taller than her, but he had always done his best to treat her and Khadgar with respect. She hadn’t seen much of him, though; he worked as an ambassador most times, and the factions took up much of his time.

    Chún on the other hand, remained a lovely mystery. A pandaren priestess, she had studied extensively at Darnassus’s temple and was blessed by Elune. Perry didn’t put much faith into that--or that she had white dove’s wings, as many priests mumbled in awe--but she knew that she was widely regarded as one of the most powerful holy priestesses in the Alliance.

    They greeted her with smiles, but the happiness was forced, and their eyes shed worry that made Perry’s heart thud heavily against her ribs. She had detailed Khadgar’s condition in her brief letter to them. They wasted no time asking to go up and see him.

    Khadgar was looking out the window as they all came in. The greetings were cordial, and pleasant chatter filled the room while they found an easy way to break the ice on the subject. Perry clambered into bed next to him, sitting and smiling, hand finding his and squeezing a little too tight. The conversation lulled.

    He knew, just as well as his healers.

    “Do either of you want anything?” Perry said, voice bright and loud, filling the gap in their silence. “You both must have come a long way.”

    Lee shook his head politely in silence. Chún just watched her patient, soft hands folded over her robe.

    “Bubbly?” She turned to him. “Do you?”

    Khadgar was looking out the window again. Her smile twitched and faltered, and her throat felt tighter. He took a breath, turning his head to see her with those wondrous blue eyes, getting wearier and wearier by the hour, and smiled. It was light, and did not stay long before his muscles relaxed again on his face.

    “Perry,” he murmured. His voice filled the room, and she let out a shuddering breath, face drawn taut. The word was feeble and weak. Old. Unable to cast more than a few wishes.

    His fingers moved gently against hers, interlacing, caressing. He’d held in his hands the power of gods. The skin was wrinkled and pockmarked. His fingers were thin and tired.

    His thumb moved over hers, squeezing. It was light, but she realized with a tremble that it was all he could manage.

    “Khadgar,” she murmured back, brow starting to tremble and press together, heat burning under her eyes as tears threatened to take away her gaze over him.

    “How long left, do you feel?” Lee asked. The words barely registered in Perry’s ears, but they were crisp and clear.

    Khadgar stroked his wife’s hand, glancing out the window again.

    “Until the rain stops. One last storm to weather through.”

    He turned back to Perry with a calming smile. It stayed as her lip trembled; it stayed when her sorrow fell against his face like the rain. He winced, pulling an arm out, trying in vain to reach up and brush her cheek--but his arm trembled, and his teeth pressed firm together to keep it up. She laid down next to him, curling up, and his hand moved easier, finding the tears along her face and brushing them away.

    “We’ll bring your children as fast as possible,” Lee said, bowing. As he left, Chún tucked Perry in, and under the warm covers the elf curled up against her human husband.

    “Perry,” Khadgar murmured gently, and the heat came to her eyes again. She blinked them away furiously, taking a shuddering breath. She wouldn’t let him leave her sight.

    The pandaren moved back gracefully, tending to the food trays in the room. Perry glanced at her, lips trembling then pressed together firmly.

    “You’re the best there is, Chún. Is there--” She gulped, catching her breath. “Is there something?”

    Chún paused, turning back to them. “Milady Peregrïn, I can treat any wound. Any ailment. Even-- Even raise the dead, when the body can still support life. But neither I nor-- nor Lee, can prevent, alter, or stop the effects of aging. He’s lived-- He’s lived long past any normal point of life for a human. Age is inevitable. I’m sorry.”

    Chún turned away again, and before Perry could reply, Khadgar gently tugged her back down against him. She looked to him, fierce and determined and scared beyond anything else, but she was met with the same quiet smile he’d had when he’d first saw her. That old absent-minded stare. The quiet look of tenderness. His eyes were a home for her heart.

    And where would it be without them?

    She curled in tight against him, praying to Elune the rain never ended. She held him tight throughout the night, barely sleeping, listening to the soft downpour, slender fingers covering his heart to feel its beat.

    Avalon and Anaël and their families came sometime towards dawn. She had fallen asleep finally, and woke when they came in. Lee escorted them, silent, and they stayed back, unsure, looking on. Perry blinked at them, then at the window.

    The rain was lighter. The first rays of sun broke through the grey cover.

    She looked to Khadgar, wide-eyed.

    His eyes opened slow and heavy, as if the weight of the world was trying to press them back. Everything he had to give was to catch a glimpse of her, and against the pressure and heaviness of each muscle, he still managed that tender smile her visage brought.

    “The kids are here,” she murmured, a crystal tear shining in the daylight and dropping against his chin.

    “Please say hello to them.” The words were little more than a ragged whisper. His face was pale. Mortal. Ancient.

    “He says hi,” she said, casting a glance and a pained smile quickly at them then turning back, afraid of looking away. They murmured their love, moving around to be next to their father. She felt them, but couldn’t turn away. She wouldn’t miss this. If she could hold him there, in her eyes, he’d never go.

    Khadgar took a breath. She heard the air drawn in, wheezing like it was moving through a dusty flute, then press out again and rest. He blinked, and didn’t open his eyes nearly as far.

    “Khadgar?” Her voice was quiet, shivering. A second stream glistened down her face.

    “Perry.” There was all the love in the world in that word. All the tenderness of centuries. All the joy and hope and brilliance of the sunrise. It lit up his blue eyes one last time.

    “I love you,” she said, blinking hard to try and keep him in her gaze as it filled up opaque.

    He smiled wider, blissful, blinking again slowly. He breathed out with a murmur. “Love y…”

    The word trailed off. The breath was gone to the air, unable to pull back. The room was silent as the rain ceased, and the sun crept forth from the grey above. His blue eyes were shut. His heart was still.

    The world was still.

    She broke. Tears tumbled wildly, breath jagged in her chest, and her head fell against his. Their white hair wove together, and time unwound. Sometimes there was an empty sun in the sky; sometimes cold stars and the bitter face of Elune. Her family gathered around her, and weakly she noticed that there were many more now; kings and rulers he’d helped standing in the ballroom whose names she couldn’t recall--that they were at the crypt now, his coffin being carried down coarse stone into the depths of the earth--that they were gone again, until her children around her bid her goodnight and Chún gently tucked her in an empty bed.

The cliffside was beautiful.

    “But it’s not as beautiful as you,” he said.

    Perry laughed, the long braid along her chest bouncing along gaily. “Khadgar, has line that ever worked on anyone living?”

    Khadgar grinned, pearly white teeth shining in the sunlight under a well-kept brown beard. His white and brown mane was tied back neatly--she’d prided herself on it looking incredible--and a single bang of white hair crept down over his forehead. His robes billowed out in the wind, and his strong hand took hers.

    “Well, you stayed with me, and I have lines far worse than that, I assure you, darling…”

    She giggled, rolling her eyes and squeezing his hand tight. His grin faded into a loving smile. She looked out at the ocean ahead, then at him, then at him, smile fading slightly. She blinked, brows furrowing slowly.

    “Khadgar?”

    “Perry.”

    She gulped. Logic and reason came flooding in, and the winds blew cold against her legs. She managed a shy smile.

    “Since when did you start dying your hair brown? Since when did you get a beard?” She smirked. “It looks… scratchy.”

    He scoffed. “I think it looks nice!”

    She grinned. “Oh, I never said it didn’t look very, very nice, dear; just might be scratchy against my skin.”

    He made a show of huffing. “Well then I shall keep it extremely nicely kept so it doesn’t scratch your tender skin!”

    She giggled, and he laughed along. It faded a little too fast. She squeezed his hand tighter.

    “Perry,” he said again, voice tender and strong.

    “Tell me I’m awake,” she murmured. “Please, Khadgar, tell me I’m awake and that everything else was a dream.”

    He smiled, eyes tinged in sorrow. “I can’t. One of my wedding vows, which I’ve been very dutiful to keep, my love, was that I would never lie to you.”

    A tremor ran through her, and he tightened his grip on her hand, steadying her.

    “I don’t want to wake up, then,” she said.

    “You have to,” he said simply.

    “No.” She shook her head, frowning slowly. “The world without you--I can’t describe it, Khadgar. The colors are raw, and hard. The birdsong is nothing but lamentation. The food is ash; the wine is tasteless. I can’t see where I’m going, anymore; I just look around and realize where I’ve drifted.”

    Khadgar brushed her cheek, and she realized a tear had lingered there.

    “I will wait for you. And some nights, you may dream of me; every day, I will watch over you with every being of Light there is by my side to keep you safe.”

    She held his hand tighter. “I may live for centuries more, alone. Every day would be an aching wish that the night might bring you back to me.”

    “You’re never going to be alone, Perry,” he said, palm resting along her cheek. “Centuries or not, there is nothing that will keep me from being at your side. Even if you can’t see me; can’t hear me; can’t feel me holding you, nothing will change in all those small affections I’d give you.”

    Another tear fell against his thumb, and he brushed it away with a reassuring smile.

    “I’m going to try and not be an annoying haunt; I promise.”

    She laughed, moving in and resting her head to his shoulder. The laughter turned to shivers, and he soothed them away.

    “Don’t you worry about how long I might wait. Time is of such little concern: all that matters to me is being with you, and seeing you happy. And if-- if that means you find someone else, then don’t worry about that--”

    She wrapped her arms around him tight, fierce. “No one else. No one else would ever replace you.”

    He paused, then hugged her tight, petting along her back.

    “I don’t want to wake up. I don’t want you to leave again.” She trembled against him, and he nuzzled against her.

    “You have to, my love,” he murmured. “Because this world would be a much colder place without the warmth of your smile.”

Chún prepared breakfast with the stewards. Lee helped, seating Perry’s children and making sure they were being well cared-for. The distress of their mother being distant so soon after Khadgar’s passing--

    A light footfall came to their ears, and everyone paused.

    Down the curve of one of the many staircases, Peregrïn stepped gracefully, a soft smile along her features, white hair long and braided, pink slender form tucked away in a blue robe that sparkled like her husband’s eyes. She set her feet down along the rug at the base of the steps, glancing up pleasantly at them all.

    “Mom?” Avalon murmured, getting up slowly. Her brother followed suit, worried, hopeful.

    Perry cleared her throat.

    “I’m sorry--” she paused and cleared her throat again, starting louder. “I’m sorry if I gave anyone trouble. I feel much better now--I’m sure, of course, Lee, you’ll want to verify that.”

    Ajelee blinked then nodded slowly.

    Perry chuckled. “Well. Either way, I say we all have a wonderful breakfast and a good day from then on.”

    She walked gracefully to the table. As she approached, the group noted a paper, rolled up in her hand. Anaël asked gently what it was.

    Perry laughed and sat down. “Oh, Elune--it’s something I’m realizing I’m actually rather timid to confess.”

    Avalon frowned quickly. “Mom--”

    Perry held up a hand, for once perfectly calm. Avalon relaxed slightly, perplexed. Perry set the paper down, opening it and folding her hands.

    “It’s the first song I’ve written in a good fifty years, or so. I used to write them all the time, thinking I could sing them to Khadgar, or as lullabies--and every time, I squirreled them away instead.” She grinned, an impish lustre in her eyes. “But I suppose I should try and actually present this one?”

    The party clamored that yes, yes, please, she should.

    Perry smiled, looking down to the paper:

Softly along the winds above/ A darling bird descends / And on its wings there is a prayer / Of which I’ll comprehend

On a tree outside my window / This raven stops and sings / The gentle tune I start up now / With joy I’ll try and bring

“Come” says he, this Raven fair / “Come listen for awhile / To tales long gone within my song / And cast to me your smile.”

Says I, “My dear pretty bird, / I’ll thank you for such gifts” / And on he sang of brilliant things / And darkness ‘round me lifts

So on he sang, this Raven fair / And I his captive one / And through the dawn his feathers bloomed / Until his song was done

Says I, “My dear pretty bird, / I’m blessed that this you shared, / But why, pray tell, did you choose me / To give such tender care?”

The Raven laughed upon its perch / And stared me in the eye / And without word he flew away / Towards the autumn sky

But as he flew a feather fell / And landed in the earth / Upon the tomb of one I loved / Who bid me live with mirth

So on along my days I’ll tread / And dance whene’er I can / And drink and love and merrily / ‘Til I see him once again.

    Perry ended her verses and looked up sweetly to them all. They were silent, and along their faces she could see awe. She glanced over to Khadgar’s seat, where he normally dined. The blue velvet across from her was faded and empty--and yet, she could almost see the outline of his shoulders, facing her.

    She could almost feel his smile. So she put on hers, and faced the day anew with all she could give.

[marcusmettalus]

War of Thorns AU

@drew-winchester

Tyran looked across the Great Sea, at the smoldering husk that once was the World Tree. He had always been calm when out of combat, the cold battle rage that usually took control would be a distant creature. Now though, a cold searing hate festers below his neutral mask. The tree had been burning for hours now, and showed no signs of slowing, the flames voracious as it ate through the great boughs and roots.

He was there when his wife blessed the tree, centuries ago. It stood against the test if time and strife,, but in just a short few days, it is gone. And possibly for good. When Sylvanas had ordered the attack,, he wished for blood. Oooh how he wanted to bury his axe in that wretched witch. Even Pa'chua, the ever calm and silent, had that raging ember of hate his his eyes, the Tauren even struck Sylvanas with a Hammer of Judgement before he was subdued by Nathanos and some half dozen orcs before he did anything more. Saurfang was needed to calm down Tyran and Pa'chua, he shared the anger, the distrust,, but they needed to wait.

Tyran stood at the shoreline, ashen waves crashed over the sandy beach, muddy ash beginning to coat his greaves before he moved away. Though he came across an elven body, a young female with white hair.

--------------------------------------------------------------

A young night elf, she still had a slight plumpness to her face and frame, she would be seen as a youth by her people. She was slumped over, a bush of blackened arrows grew from her bent back, dried blood coated her leather armor and clothes, her pale shock of hair was marred with mud and sand. Another casualty of this accursed war.

Tyran sighs and he slowly kneels down by the body, his gauntleted hand lightly grasps the young girl's chin, lifting her up to look in her face. Those usual glowing eyes were colorless, blank, empty, but the old aging dragon could sense the parting emotions and feelings. Sadness, despair,, longing,, and apologetic? Tyran frowns slightly, the thick brows knitting together. Who was this young child apologizing to?

"Perry? Perry! Where are you? Peregrïn??" Tyran looks up as he hears someone shouting, and spies,, Khadgar? His robes are partially singed, as he has ran through fires, his hair slick from the sweat running across the man's brow. Tyran was about to respond when Khadgar spies him first, and the body beside him. Khadgar loses what color was left in his face, eyes wide and vacant, before they fill with rage.

"Khadgar, what are y-" Tyran has barely time to finish his sentence before a massive Arcane bolt slams into his chest and sends him tumbling onto the beach. The wind knocked from his lungs and his head spinning, Tyran tries to get back on his feet, trying to breath in the hot air.

"You beast! I trusted you! How could you do this?! Why did you kill her??" Khadgar swings Atiesh, another large anger and grief fueled Arcane bolt is flung at Tyran, who this time is prepared for it. Tyrannastrasz may be ancient, but he can still use magic and has taken worse.

His large hand catches the bolt in the air, the unstable magic twitching and crackling in the tight grasp, wishing to detonate, to tear apart reality. Tyran growls low, as he focused on the magic, slowly dimming the power and light, rending it harmless.

"Khadgar! Calm yourself boy, you know as well as I do I do not kill innocents. What Kaldorei warriors who attack me get knocked out and cast aside to be picked up later. You know this boy!" Tyran raises his voice, shaking his slightly smoking gauntlet, pin and needles dancing over his flesh.

The mage pants heavily, his eyes still wide and jittery, but he is starting to slow down, his racing mind beginning to gain more control and calm. Tyran slowly removed his helm, moving towards the white haired mage, but is moving carefully and slowly.

"Khadgar, Peregrïn,, this is Peregrïn?" The old Orc indicates to the still slumped over night elf body, Khadgar visibly shaking before giving a nod. Tyran sighs gently, his eyes down cast before beckoning Khadgar over. "Come then boy, I will need your help with bringing her soul back into her body. She is an Adventurer like myself, there is still time."

Khadgar blinks gently before more or less stumbling over to the body of his lover, Atiesh almost forgotten and clattering to the ground. "W,wait, what do you mean? She can be,, saved? But I thought,,?"

"Ha, you forget sometimes that I do still wield power from my lineage. But I need your help to guide her back to her body,, and to remove the arrows from her back. I know this will be,, difficult, but I need you to focus on her, you have to."

Khadgar nods earnestly as he kneels down beside Tyran. The Archmage knew for some time who Tyran was, and had multiple times asked for the aging Dragon's aide over the years since their first encounter in Outland. Now the Ancient needed Khadgar's help,, to save his beloved.

"I am going to hold her steady, and I need you to remove the arrows. And careful, they might still have toxins and poison on then still. One at the time " Tyran spoke gently, but steadily as he gingerly moved the limp body of the Night Elf around, so that the Mage could get at the arrows. The white haired mage clenched his fists, taking a slow shaky breath, trying to steel himself,, before removing the first arrow, using both his hands and a bit of magic.

Clitter, clatter, clitter, clatter. All the beach could hear was the ashen waves crashing on the shore, the hot breeze coming from across the waves, and the wooden arrows clattering onto the boulder underneath the trio. It was this for many minutes, as Khadgar tried to remove the arrows without making too much damage to Peregrïn's body. But it is soon done.

"That's,, that is the last one. Alodi's beard,," Khadgar shudders as he sees the vast network of scars and spread of poison over Perry's back.

"Boy. Focus. Now, I need you to hold her head, both hands, that's it. You can have her rest in your lap to make it easier, there we are. Now, I am going to be using a lot of Nature magic for this,, but it will be difficult. Given,, well,," Tyran instructs the mage before glancing across the sea to the remains of the tree.

"Yes,, some of the Druids have said that the balance is,, tipping."

"Ha, that's the gentle term for it. Bare with me now." Tyran breathes deep, closing his eyes while unbuckling and removing the heavy plated gauntlets, putting them into the blood soaked sand.

The large green hands are scarred and coarse, the nails cut back and trimmed close to the digit, the palms are scrapped and worn smooth. Ever so gently, Tyran places one hand on Perry's forehead, the other on the middle of the chest. As Tyran exhales, yellow starlight begins to trickle out o his maw, brilliant points of light racing along his arms to his hands. Across the sands comes fireflies of gentle greens and emerald, coalescing in the palms of the ancient warrior.

Khadgar had seen numerous times Druids and Priests healing others, but very few resurrections,, but they are usually more public, dramatic, with chanting of hallowed Psalms or ancient tongues. This feels,, more intimate, personal. No words are spoken, no grand gestures. Just,, flow of energy.

Tyran's eyes are screwed tight, rumbling lightly under his breath, the flow of starlight has stopped and his hands are wreathed in clouds of the fireflies and golden light. As one, he presses the hands down into Peregrïn, feeding the magic into the cool limp body. "Speak her name boy. Call her back from the beyond." Tyran spoke gently, still trying to control the wild magic in his hands.

Khadgar blinks rapidly before looking down at his lover, the one woman in the world he couldn't be without. "Peregrïn. Peregrïn,, please come back. Please come back."

The magic flows into the body, sewing flesh back together, mending bones and nerves, leaving all but scars behind. Color returns to the skin, warmth spreading throughout, warming up Khadgar clammy hands slowly

Then her eyes open, pure and pale starlight.

"K,, Khadgar?"