#stormwind rp

[keladryhawklight]

The Storm

27 Nov, After Midnight Kel stepped out of the Hospital, moving to a bench just outside of the doors. A cup of coffee was clutched in her hands, her beaten tin mug that accompanied her just about everywhere. Dropping onto the bench, she let out a long low sigh and set the cup down on the arm of the bench. Her scrubs were splattered with blood, dried and drying, her hair was sweat stained, and her hands shook like the very devil. It had been a very long night indeed, one filled with the screams of pain, shock, and fear of the injured souls streaming in from another attack on the city.

Dracthyr, humans, worgen and elves had littered the floor of the hospital, triaged in the first ward and then passed into level one care, which was the easiest of wounds to treat, level two care, which included burns, shrapnel injuries and wounds to suture and stitch, and then the level three critical care, which included immediate and emergency lifesaving surgical intervention. She had spent hours in the Level Three critical care ward, up to her elbows in innards. Patient after patient, they had meticulously rotated the room within minutes, every one of the pitching in to re-sanitize the room after every patient had been transported out. They had about ten minutes to turn the room around, take a breath, and start it all over again. But done it they had.

Her head fell back against the wall the bench sat against, and she closed her eyes for a brief moment of repose.

Hopefully, the violence would de-escalate again. It had to, she reasoned.

[the-fortyseventh]

After Action Report - 20 Dec 632

After Action Report – 20 Dec 632 - NARAD Father Winterveil Patrol

On the evening of 20 Dec 632, on/around 2030 hours, a voluntary group of personnel from the 47th Infantry Regiment, assisted the Gnomish Air Force with one of their operations. 

Lead by myself, Champion Keladry Brightmaul, we worked in tandem with Commander Amelia Battlehart (Wing Commander – Northern Azerothian Aerospace Defence Command (NARAD)), Major Krillos Thunderbrake (Squadron Commander – 133rd Fighter Squadron, Captain Sparklethrottle – 133rd Fighter Squadron and Captain Steelwing – 133rd Fighter Squadron. 

The volunteer mission was a sortie that departed from the Ironforge Airfield, and took us into the air space of Alterac, Northern Lordaeron and Arathi, to protect Father Winterveil as he arrived at his lodge point deep in the Alteraci mountains. 

 The voluntary force divided into flight teams for the sortie; G1 – MAJ Thunderbrake, Cadet Goldmane, RCT Cerulethal and PVT Sunveil; G2 – CAPT Sparklethrottle, Cadet Hempstead, RCT Moonkeg and PVT Josephson; G3 – CAPT Steelwing, KCP Brightmaul, and PVT Ryvsirra. In G-280’s, we patrolled over the region, engaging only in the elementals discovered in the skies. 

Note: The Gnomish Air Force had pre-established a Memorandum of Understanding with Silvermoon City in which it was agreed neither side would engage the other during routine flight operations. 

 As we completed our loop of the northern skies, we were blessed enough to have the opportunity to escort Father Winterveil into the Alteraci mountains so that he could land and prepare himself for his days ahead. Upon his safe landing, we returned to the Ironforge Airfield for a quick debrief before the troops were dismissed. 

Respectfully, 

K. Brightmaul, KCP   3 XO 

Annex A: Radar Capture of Sortie Zone - 20 Dec 632

[personaei]

#personaei

an indie multimuse blog featuring muses from warcraft, dragon age, baldur's gate, and star wars. written by belli.

[commanderbragh]

Travels, Slow and Quick

The waves lapped at the side of the ship as it sliced through the water. Banagan stood at the railing along the deck and watched as the docks of Stormwind grew ever closer. He appeared lost in thought as he stood there, so much so that everyone else on the deck just let him be.

It was a relaxing trip, he thought to himself. Sure, he could have made use of the portal back to Stormwind and arrived almost instantly. But the trip back gave him plenty of time to relax and the privacy to consider his thoughts. As the ship made its way next to the dock, the paladin knew his time was up and he would have to rejoin the rest of the moving world.

Banny watched as the men on the ship and the dock worked to secure the ship. Finally the call was made. Passengers and crew both began disembarking, carefully making their way down the gangplank. Banny picked up the satchel that had been on the deck next to his feet, adjusted his shield over his shoulder and started following the rest of the crowd. Within moments, he was on the sturdy dock and soon after that on solid land. Banny glanced up the huge path that led up from the docks to the city above, took a deep breath, and began making his way up the incline. 

Once he finally made it to the top of the walkway, Banagan turned and looked back at the docks below. He could see the ship he was recently on. The sails were slowly lowering as the remaining crew secured them for their stay. 

“Welcome back, Mister Larethian.”

Banagan turned to see a familiar person standing close by. The sunlight beamed on his shaved head and his worn leather tunic creaked a little as he shifted.

“Thanks, Erik. Been waiting long?” he asked with a grin.

“Not at all. But I heard you were on that boat,” he said, nodding his head slightly towards the docks.

“Heard? You been spying on me?” Banny stepped over and extended his hand which Erik took and shook firmly.

“No. But my business partners assume that I will want to know when certain individuals arrive in Stormwind.”

“I’m that important?”

“Your family is, yes.”

“Good to know. How are you doing these days?”

“Business is busy as always. And you?”

“I’m doing okay. The trip was relaxing.”

“That’s why you chose a boat instead of the portal.”

“Yeah. Wanted a little time to think.” Banagan started moving towards the entrance to the city with the rogue falling in beside him.

“Troubles?”

“I don’t know. Weird dreams, mostly.”

“Dreams?”

“Yeah. For the last few weeks, I’ve been having some odd dreams. I can never remember them. But when I get up, I’m still tired and I know that there was something important to them, but I can’t remember what.”

“Interesting.”

“Interesting? How so?”

“Others have told me about odd dreams as well. Something urgent or concerning for all of them. Mostly people associated with the Cathedral.”

“My father?”

“Not that he’s told me,” Erik said, shaking his head.

“But he wouldn’t necessarily say anything,” Banagan said, finishing Erik’s thought.

“Not necessarily.”

“What have the others said about their dreams?”

“Just that there always seemed something important that needed to be done.”

“And did they figure out what that was?” Banny asked, stopped along the path to look at the rogue.

“Not that they have told me. A few of them spoke of traveling to Dalaran.”

“Dalaran? Why there?”

“I don’t know. I think some of them just thought it was the right place to begin. And since Khadgar and the Kirin Tor are there, maybe they believed someone there could help them to figure out the meaning.”

“I mean, it’s a place to start I guess,” Banny responded with a shrug. “Maybe I should head there and see what’s been figured out.”

“Before going home and seeing your father?” Erik asked, his eyebrow raised slightly.

“Yeah, it shouldn’t take that long,” Banny answered with a grin. “And it’s not like I’ll take a boat back from there. Maybe a couple of hours asking around and then I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Sounds reasonable enough.”

“Would you send word to my father and let him know what I’m doing?”

“Of course. Anything else?”

“I think I’m good,” Banny said, reaching out to shake Erik’s hand again. “Thanks. I’ll talk to you when I get back.”

“Safe travels, Banagan.” Erik released the paladin’s hand and turned towards the trade district of the city. 

Banagan smiled and then started walking towards the mage tower that peaked above the surrounding buildings. After a little bit of walking, he finally found himself standing at the foot of the tower and the winding path that circled up around it. Adjusting his gear again, he began his ascent and soon found himself at the entrance. Stepping inside, he found a novice mage greeting people. The paladin asked about hiring someone to open a portal to the city of Dalaran. After a moment of discussion about price, the novice led the paladin into the tower and introduced him to another mage. The novice explained the request to the mage. Soon coins were exchanged and the mage cast his spell. A portal spun open before them and Banagan could see the streets of the floating city through it. Banagan thanked the mage and began stepping through the portal.

As the paladin passed the threshold of the portal, he experienced several different sensations, each immediately following the previous. First there was a bright flash of multi-colored light. Then he felt as if he was being pressed against from all sides. Finally, as he passed through the portal he found that there was no ground for his foot and he began to fall. The wind rushed against him as he fell and bits of rock struck his shoulder.

Banagan barely had the presence of mind to look around and see that he was in midair, free falling towards water below with debris of various size around him. Most importantly, though, was the complete absence of a floating city. Looking down, he saw the water directly below and only a short distance away was land. The water was quickly getting closer and it was at the last minute that Banny’s instincts kicked in. He called on the Light and shimmering glow surrounded him just before he struck the surface.

“Oh sh—“

[eluviannaa]

At today's Stormwind Thieves Market in Moonbrook, Westfall.

Elu occasionally sells items at a few events, and along with the exchange, gives patrons a mysterious pebble. A calling card of sorts, either to her directly or the physical location of Curses & Curios in Boralus.

The pebble itself is a TRP3e item that's actually pretty fun. It usually invites some discussion—sometimes exchanging cards with another unsavory character—but I had a curious one today that was a bit... more.

While I absolutely love doing these events for their own sake, in the back of my mind what I think would be really interesting is these small interactions leading to sinister rp later. And today, I had my first one eeeeee

[elewynd]

This feels like every summertime Fall asleep dreaming about all the places I could go

[homesickforazeroth]

Zones / Eastern Kingdoms / Elwynn Forest

The humans have lived in Elwynn for centuries, but members of all Alliance races can be frequently seen traveling and residing in Elwynn due to its proximity to the capital, Stormwind City. Most residents of Elwynn are involved in one of its major industries: logging, farming, fishing or mining. They are also renowned for the breeding of their Evendales: steeds especially prized by adventurers for their loyalty and steadiness in the face of danger. The people are hardy and hard-working and for all its pomp and grandeur, Stormwind wouldn’t last long without a constant stream of food and supplies to support the city’s population.

[terranlloyd]

LFRP - Terran Lloyd

The Basics –––

Full Name: Terran Dalben Lloyd Age: 45 Gender: Male (He/Him) Race: Stormwindian Human (Westfall) Alignment: Lawful Good In-game Names: Arcanesmith (MG), Hatsmith (MG), Telva (WrA) Full Backstory: https://www.bhb.contact/arcanesmith/bio

Physical Appearance –––

Art: refsheet.net/TerranLloyd Hair: Natural Ginger Eyes: Blue Height: 5'7" Build: Buff Nerd Common Accessories: His signature Blue n Gold Hat. Voice Claim: None; however, Shannon Mcormick as Ozpin & Agent Washington is rather close.

Personal –––

Birthplace: Westfall, Lloyd Family Farm Residence: Eastcrest Estate, Elwynn Forest Profession: Arcane Blacksmith, Kirin Tor Magus Hobbies: Writing, Swordsmanship, Arcane Research, Teaching Languages: Fluently Speaks Common, has a light grasp of Thalasian, and utilizes Arcane Magic to help bridge further gaps in knowledge. Religion: Not strictly religious, but has a respect for the Light. Fears: The Void, Loss of loved ones, Dragons.

Relationships –––

Spouse: @arcane-artisan Children: Twins - Medwyn & Teleria Lloyd. Parents: Both deceased. Father during the First War, Mother during the Cataclysm. Siblings: None. Pets: See Below

Traits –––

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

RP Hooks –––

Eastcrest Coalition - Terran Lloyd is a founding member and leader of Eastcrest Coalition. The Coalition is formed of three minor noble houses and aims to bring wares and commerce to Stormwind Kingdom while safeguarding her borders. The Blue Hat Blacksmith - As his primary source of income, Terran Lloyd works as an Arcane Blacksmith, mass producing mundane weapons and armor and crafting custom enchanted weapons and tools. If your character is looking for something crafted, Terran can either get it done, or knows a guy who can (no promises you won't be sent on a quest for reagents!) Arcane Articulated - In his free time, Terran writes books on Arcane Magic, best known for his series Arcane Articulated which highlights the fundamentals of Arcane Magic and the casters who use it. Rumor has it a new edition is on its way to shelves ... eventually.

Contact Information ––– –

You can contact me on Discord, Twitter, Tumblr, or in game. Discord - BlueHatMan#4547 Twitter - https://twitter.com/LloydTerran Tumblr - Uh ... this post.

Thanks for reading this far, you get a cookie.

[chevvah]

“You know there is bounty on you, why do you keep starting fights? You would be in a problem if I wasn’t there.”

[electricelunite]

Conversations with myself.

[one-winged-dreams]

Also, I'll get to friend content here in a bit, I'm just going THROUGH IT right now

[keladryhawklight]

Eye of the Storm

28 Nov, 1130AM

The nurse Aerimell had spoken to had sought Kel out; not for approval on what he had advised her to do, no she would never question his expertise, but his demeanor had worried her. Had that been fear in the kind doctors eyes, she asked silently. What reason did he have to fear? Was there something here? And so she found herself knocking at Kel’s door within the span of ten minutes. Upon arriving at the door however, she hesitated. Was it something to bring to the Champions attention?

She raised a hand to knock and stifled a sharp cry when the door suddenly opened without a noise being made. Kel, on the other hand, wasn’t as ready to see someone right there. She jerked, jumping almost out of her skin as a quiet curse in goblin fell from her lips. After the blink of an eye, she smoothed herself back out, realizing that the nurse more than likely wanted something. She hadn’t come with a chart, which was odd though.

“Light above, I wasn’t expecting that. Yes?” She asked the woman who’d scared the Light out of her. She was just getting ready to go home after a long night of work in the OR following an attack on the city. While clean, it was clear she had been there since at least the night before. “Can I help you?” “I- that is- er, I hope..” the nurse stammered, not quite sure how to spit it out. Raising a brow, Kel simply waited. This was interesting. Normally none of the nurses and other staff held back. What was the issue here? “You can tell me,” she prodded gently. “Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

The nurse took a breath. “Doctor Sundershade was behaving mightily strangely today.” “How?” “Well, when he provided follow-up care for our patient, he seemed afraid of something. Not simply nervous or anxious, but true fear,” she explained. “It was the strangest thing. Our patient care had been routine until then. There was nothing to fear.” No, Kel reasoned silently. There wasn’t anything apparent to fear, but everyone had wounds they never spoke about. She answered gently. “Be on your way now. I will look in on him and see what the matter is.” The nurse, grateful to be dismissed, shot back down another hallway. “How odd,” Kel muttered to herself. “True fear? That’s not particularly like him. Anxiety, yes.” Exiting her office, she locked the door behind her and made her way down the hallway to where Aerimell had his offices located.

The door was closed and appeared to be locked. Also strange. She raised her knuckles and rapped sharply against the door twice, calling his name. As she called his name, a strange eerie feeling stole over her. Dismissing it, she gave her head a sharp shake.

No, she reasoned. Everything was fine™. Her communications device suddenly squawked at her hip. &lt;< "Knight-Champion Brightmaul," >> Andrastyn's voice rang out, << "This is Sergeant Sundershade. I have been unable to reach the Lieutenant. Have you received word?" >> <<“I am standing in front of his door knocking,”>> Kel replied, speaking into the device. She could see Cedric Sutherland watching her from down the hallway but paid him no mind. The Private was still earning his stripes. <<“Has he left for the day, or is he working in your clinic?”>> << "Negative, ma'am. The last word I received from the Lieutenant was that he was still assisting following the riots; he should still be in the Cathedral, though not in my clinic. I am on my way." >>

She knew that he had worsened; it was part of the reason she and the Marshal had collaboratively ended his field career. His condition had deteriorated to the point where neither one of them had felt it was safe for him to continue returning to active operations and assigned him to garrison medical duties.

But if he was supposed to be here.

&lt;< “I’ll be right there,” >> Andi had said. Her voice however, left her senses screaming in concern. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Her eyes went up the door. Down the door. She called his name one last time and absolutely smacked the door with her palm, clearly meaning business.

Had he been any kind of conscious, it would have had him at the door in seconds. But the demand went unanswered, and so she made up her mind. Taking about ten steps back to the opposite side of the hallway, she took a breath and then pushed off the wall, ramming the door with her shoulder as hard as she could, hitting it with a slam. Privacy and hospital property be damned, she’d pay for it later. It popped forward, slapping forward to slam backwards all the way open, the knob embedding in the wall. She crashed to the floor on her belly, tumbling into the room in a flurry.

Her eyes came up as she came to rest, landing on Aerimell’s still form. At the very top of her voice, in her strictest ‘don’t ask questions’ voice she snapped an order.

“SOMEBODY GET ME A GODS DAMNED GURNEY!”

Doing a fluid push-up off the floor, she scooted across the floor to his side. Twin masses lay in an obscene puddle nearby, a stark portrait of the seriousness of the situation. Whipping out her stethoscope, she all but ripped his coat and shirt open and slapped the face against his bare chest. She could barely hear anything, simply the fluttering of life. If anything, it made her work faster, harder, to bring him back from the edge of life and death. “Prep a crash cart,” she clipped as both Cedric and Kesalari whipped into the room. “Winterbreeze, get into a surgical ward, and get it prepped as soon as possible. We will be right behind you. You’re my extra hands while we open him up.” She nodded at Kesalari, hoping there would be no further questions. “Sutherland, get in here with that gurney. We’re going to get him stabilized, then up and rolling. Standby for CPR. He’s still here, and Light be damned if I let him go,” she clipped. She followed this with a clipped order at a nearby orderly. “IV kit, and two bags of D5W.” She all but threw her stethoscope to the side and continued working, prepping veins for an IV butterfly. While she worked, she kept her attention on Aerimell; she trusted the other two to follow the orders they were given to the letter. In the meantime, she prepped the back of his hand for IV fluids. Her left hand stabilized the vein than ran over the back of his hand and up into his forearm, before she sank the needle home. Within thirty seconds, he was connected to the sustainment fluids. She shoved the IV bag at an orderly, barking, “Don’t drop this. Hold it until he’s on the gurney.”

As Cedric wheeled the gurney in, she grabbed a backboard that had been conveniently tucked into the bottom of the gurney. They had to get him up and moving as soon as it was clear to do so. “Sutherland, help me get him up,” she called, sliding the board partially underneath Aerimell’s prone form. “We’re going to lift on three, ready? One. Two. And three.”

Between the two of them, Aerimell’s body was almost weightless; he was delicate, horrifyingly so, and almost emaciated under his coat. That was concerning. “And now we lift,” she nodded at Cedric. “We’re going to go straight up, and then onto the gurney on three. One. Two. And three.” They settled him onto the gurney in quick silence, each working to make sure that IV’s were fastened to the gurney poles properly. Kel kept a free hand on his pulse, feeling the feather-light beat of a fluttery and weak pulse. He was still fading. It was a race against time. “Go, go, go,” she nodded, beginning the push on the gurney. The nurse she who had been holding the IV bag prior to Aerimell settling into the gurney shot ahead of them, straight to OR2, where Kesalari and Honstire awaited. She punched the gurney bay door lock open just as Kel and Cedric pushed in.

There was an immediate flurry of activity within the OR -- Thankfully Winterbreeze had shot back down the hallway to make the necessary preparations with Honstire at her side to ready the suite for surgery. Their anesthesiologist came flying into the room, freshly scrubbed in, followed by a handful of OR hands. Kel stepped back from the gurney and immediately pivoted her attention for the barest time she could afford.

“Hons,” she called. Ripping one of her rank epaulets off her shoulder, she tossed it at him. “Sergeant Sundershade is of no sound mind to mind the hospital or patients. You’re in charge on the front lines of the ward until I step foot out of this OR. Winterbreeze is with me, Sutherland and Sparklecog are your right and left hands. If anything goes absolutely wildly out of line, you send one of them beelining to this OR comms room and patch in for advice. Understand? I trust you to use your best judgement.” She waited for his acknowledgement of the order before turning and darting to a sink. Continuing she ordered, “Send a message to the Marshal as soon as you can. Absolutely and ONLY for the Marshal’s eyes only. Not the Commander, not Champion Sparrowmind, Marshal Edain. Advise him that there’s been a critical incident involving Lieutenant Sundershade, that I and Corporal Winterbreeze are in surgery with him, and that there will be routine updates on his condition as we work. Do you understand this?”

She looked at Kesalari and nodded, “Scrub in, Winterbreeze. You’re with me today.” To Hons, she continued, “You will also find immediate support for Sergeant Sundershade. Summon the Elunite chaplain from the Keep to come and sit with her. And if she requires support for their daughter Mari, you are to provide it immediately.”

All that was said in the span of two minutes. Her adrenaline was pumping hard, and the surgical suite lights came on with a soft hum. They could be delayed no longer. Gloved and gowned up, she tugged up her mask and gave them both one last nod. “Go.”

To Kesalari, she simply said, “Whether you’re ready or not, it’s time to get to work.

The anesthesiologist, Doctor Benjamin Northway, was a resident spicy Gilnean. While incredibly knowledgeable about his profession and incredibly dedicated to the care of others, he was also possessed of an incredibly cheeky disposition that only made the OR a funnier place to be. But today was not a day where humour would be found in their OR. “Ready Benji?” Kel asked. “I know you and I have had a very long night, and I appreciate you scrubbing back in with me.” “Aye love, wouldn’ miss it f’the world,” He nodded, his focus on Aerimell. While Kel had briefed the Corporals and Privates, he had begun settling Aerimell into a prepped surgical statis. “No’ f’r this LT. He’s a roigh’ fine lad.” “Alright. Lets get to work then. Bette,” She called to a nurse she knew quite well. “Begin the surgical clock.”

The soft chime of the surgical clock starting set everything in motion. As she stepped up to her preferred spot, she sent a small silent prayer into the nether. Holy Light, please this be successful. Become one with my hands, and let them be an instrument of healing. Guide them and grant them the strength to ease Aerimell’s suffering. Through pain, suffering, sickness, and sadness, you have guided my steps, and I pray that you do not abandon me to the darkness yet. I ask only for guidance, and the strength of heart and spirit to see this through. Aerimell’s form was even stiller, and due to the nature of the surgery they needed to perform, he had been intubated and placed on a ventilator to assist with his breathing. She had never seen him so lifeless, and the fact was incredibly jarring. The first cut in surgery was always the easiest to make -- one didn't have to pick and choose where to cut. One simply cut. Her scalpel sliced through skin and sinew, and with Kesalari’s help, they soon had Aerimell’s lungs open bared to the surgical lights above. (edited)

“Deflating his left lung,” Kel stated for the surgical tape. “As the patient is on a ventilator, his right lung will continue to work until we can reinflate his left. We are going to be examining the lung for possible injury, cancerous or otherwise.”

As they worked to deflate Aerimell’s left lung Kel took a breath, and reached into the body cavity to begin palpating the lung, and the walls around the lung. Her fingers were light as a butterflies as she explored. What she had, she stiffened, pausing all movement. Growths. Hard and unmoving. She knew what these were, and she knew what the solution to them was. Her eyes closed for a thirty second pause on the surgical clock. You stupid, stupid man, she thought to herself. You knew about this. Her voice was higher-pitched when she spoke again. “The patient presents with multiple growths on his left lung, which have begun to produce growing clots. We shall perform a recovery surgery to preserve as much of the tissue as possible.”

Removing growths would be the easier part. With Kesalari’s help, she began to remove the biggest growths. They were placed into a small metal dish, each one dropping with a hideous plop into the bin. From his left lung, three growths in total were removed. As she examined the last few, her heart fell straight to the floor. Her voice was quiet when she spoke to the recorder. “While three growths were removed easily from the patients lungs, there are a handful of cancerous growths that I am not able to remove without killing the patient. We will make necessary repairs to the left lung, and upon successful placement of the lung tube and established connection with the ventilator, will proceed onto the right lung procedure.”

As she worked, she guided Kesalari, showing her how to successfully operate on supremely delicate tissues like the lungs and allowed the Corporal to feel for herself what cancerous nodes felt like. It was a lifesaving operation, but Kel could not forget that it was also a teaching moment for someone who did not have the same experience that she did. They soon had the lung tube successfully placed, and connected to the ventilator. With a soft hiss, the machine did it’s work, and Aerimell’s chest rose and fell rhythmically in even (although weak) breaths.

“How is he holding up, Benji,” Kel looked up from Aerimell’s lungs to address the Gilnean. “Steady as a lark for now, bu’ I’d make quick work.” Benji’s words held a warning. Work fast or lose him. Aerimell could only take so much, and his sickness had shortened their time by quite a bit. “Deflating the right lung. The patient will remain on a ventilator, which will remain fully breathing for him over the period of the next four to seven days while his lungs re-inflate.”

She began again, palpating around his lung and the lung wall for nodes. There were just as many on this side, and just as big. Again, she showed Kesalari how to remove growths, explaining the process and what allowed a node to be removable. Her focus was laser sharp with each cut of diseased tissue, for she could give him no less than 110%. Another two growths joined the trio from his left lung in the metal dish before she spoke to the recording again. “Two growths have been easily removed from the patient's right lung. In this lung, there remain two rooted cancerous nodes that I am not able to remove at this time without placing the patient’s life in danger. We have done all we can to recover the lungs, and all that remains is to place the right lung tube and ensure connectivity to the ventilator before closing.

Bette spoke up, “You’re at four and a half hours.” “Y’can’ go much further lass,” Benji offered quietly. “I know,” Kel answered just as softly. There really was nothing more that they could do to help him. Aerimell was at the end of every lifesaving surgical preventative intervention that she could give to him. He was lucky that his body tolerated the stress that she had just put him under; the chances of death on the table had been high. What was going to be worse than death itself was the sickness that was going to follow this. A lump all but strangled the breath from her throat, and she fought a losing battle to quash it. “Prepare to close the patient,” Kel addressed the recording. “He will be moved into ICU recovery, with a constant monitor for the first 48 hours of recovery time. Winterbreeze, when you and I are finished, you will follow me for your next lesson.”

The next lesson would probably be the hardest one of all to learn.

[the-fortyseventh]

Marshal Lebryn Edain with Knight Sandor Brightmaul waiting for the ceremony to begin. 

Marshal Lebryn Edain addressing the gathered citizens of Stormwind. 

Gathered Officers of the 47th shortly before the ceremony began.  The 5th Annual Remembrance Day Photos 

[personaei]

" Is this what it's always going to be for our people? To be manipulated by great unknown powers, time and time again? " " And to overcome them, time and time again. "

#personaei - private, slow activity multi-muse, as written by belli.

( c )

[tristayranambrosio]

Things Forgotten and Reforged Part 3

It was sunset into proper dusk and twilight when the bard walked the cobblestones of the Lion’s Rest. Trist could walk them in his sleep even after years of absence. Somewhere in the distance he heard a harper playing having staked his claim to one of the white marble walls, echoing in the natural acoustic shell that the half moon memorial fountain created. The memories rushed back, the joy… but so much of it soured now… he’d once been determined to play through the pain, sing, perform, smile, dance… Be the one that was above emotions, that would never let the barbs and attempts to bully him show the damage they inflicted. And in the end it hadn’t been those… but rather someone who he’d loved with all himself who’d lied, who’d made him a monster… the same Bard that now hooded himself lest someone see that “Trist’Ayran, the Fountain Bard” had returned at long last to his post. No couples orbited each other tonight, his old spot mercifully unoccupied apart from a Light-forged mage reading with a sneer on her face at what she was paging through, a human con-man in a top hat sewing tricks into the inner lining of a vest, and a druid in feline form slumbering on one of the benches.

He was Alone.

“Hello Fountain.” He murmured in that decibel that was so soft no one that was any further than his shoulder could hear, “I’m sorry I’ve not come to sing you your Lullaby all these years.”

Trist scrubbed at his face feeling a rush of tears threaten now. Every night… for almost a year he had sung those soft words of goodnight to the trickle of pure water that spilled from bowl to bowl… and the weight of every missed evening crashed onto his thoughts with a guilt that he did not expect. What had happened to all the friends he’d made here? The students he had taught? The laughs… the dancing… the moments that made the Fountain so much more than a fountain, the night he thought he could fly when every voice around him sang the same words.

They’d taken that from him… now the fountain was just… stones… and water… and bushes he’d tackled lovers into… shadows he’d memorized in the hedges and branches… lines on the marble.

He looked up and spoke softly, as if the burbling fountain could understand, “I cherish every moment beside you you know? Even the hurts… even the moments where people hated me… punished me… broke me… Because you’re the place I met and loved so many. Thank you for staying when they’re all gone…”

There was a moment he thought maybe he was going mad speaking to an inanimate water-feature… but he kept on, “I don’t know if I ever told you how much I owe you for those moments I would never take back… especially the one where I met him…”

The fountain burbled as the last of daylight faded behind the horizon leaving Trist alone to speak to the dark, whispering secrets to the silvery catchlights that ran seamlessly like glass down the tiers of the white marble bowls, meeting them as he would the eyes of a dearly missed friend.

“I’m marrying him… Well… again, We’ve been wed since the night I shared his soul with mine… when I felt him reach a part of my broken heart and place each piece back together… He made me whole… but he found me singing behind our mask… stars what a show I could put on…” He managed a rueful laugh but reached out to touch the lip of the fountain’s base and asked gently, “May I please?”

As if in response to Trist’s soft request the old Grey-white fountain burbled and caught his attention just over a shattered bauble of broken glass in the darkest hue of violet and blue that was amid the coppers and silvers of those wishing for something. Trist hadn’t wanted to take anyone’s wishes… but he retrieved the old glass with a sweep of his hand into the fountain’s deepest base and looked up at it again. “Thank you…” Trist would normally have hurried off… but this place… He felt rooted to the marble like he had been a part of the stone and the water and the melancholy breeze that perpetually swept through… the harper that had been playing was gone and it was only the Bard and the stars… the place painfully silent, the emptiness of it hallowing him out before he sang softly. “Weep you no more sad fountains

What need you flow so fast?

Look haw the snowy mountains

Heaven's sun doth gently waste

But my sun's heavenly eyes

View not your weeping

That now lies sleeping

Softly, softly, now softly

Softly lies sleeping

Sleep is a reconciling

A rest that peace begets

Doth not the sun rise smiling

When fair at ev'n he sets?

Rest you then, rest, sad eyes

Melt not in weeping

While she lies sleeping

Softly, softly, now softlySoftly lies sleeping…”

Every line drew a soft sob or whimper from him, trying to suppress each to no avail. And clutched his finding tight enough to leave an imprint of its shape on his hand.

He composed himself and cleared his throat, and in his most desperate attempt at the lightness he had put on for months as he forced his fingers to pluck strings when the music was like wringing blood from a stone… “Goodnight Fountain…”

Trist then stood, adjusted his cloak, and vanished into the streets of Stormwind once more. To those with the keenest eyes, some would see the shadow of broken wings cast behind the bard, slowly re-knitting themselves into something whole the further he walked from his old stage.

[sen--kai]

Floh Falke of the Daelin Brigade.