#v: azeroth

[lightfaithed]

The Horde and the Alliance. Two factions, apparently not very fond of each other? Obi-Wan made sure to pick up every piece of information and stow it away for later. Silvermoon City. Lor'themar Theron. He soaked those words up like a sponge, even without knowing what exactly Baine was referring to.

Then lots of things happened, very fast. Before Obi-Wan could even start to explain where he came from, another person arrived. Not a Tauren, that much was obvious at first glace. At first he mistook her for a human woman, but then he noted the pointed tips of her ears and how elongated they were.

When reality tore apart before his eyes and the view to another place opened, Obi-Wan jumped up alarm. His had had darted to his lightsaber hilt, but everyone's calmness around him made him halt and observe. Whatever this was didn't seem to be dangerous. He was still not fond of the idea of entering through this rift, but before he knew it, he was in a large round city.

The Force here felt distant. It was still there, it permeated the air and the stone and the endless horizon of white fog that surrounded the city, but it was holding back. Made sure not to intrude. As if some other power ruled here and the Force was a very considerate guest.

The city's inhabitants were most curious. Some of them floated, some looked like massive armor having come to life, wielding equally massive axes and spears. Nobody here had a face. He followed the large Tauren chieftain and made sure not to ogle. Face or no, it was hardly polite. "Shadowlands does not sound very..welcoming," he mused.

A special someone who hasn't been seen on Azeroth for years..perhaps the dead? "Is this afterlife?" Obi-Wan asked baffled, having put two and two together.

Baine couldn't help but smile at Obi-Wan's gesture in respect. Upon hearing that the other man was curious about their culture and referring to Azeroth as a planet- he was correct, but Baine wasn't sure if he should disclose that Azeroth much more than a planet.

"You may call me Baine, Obi-wan. I apologize if I assumed you were a courier. Please allow me to explain. My kind belongs to a faction known as the Horde. My father was a beloved friend of our now former Warchief. The alliance is another such faction, mainly comprised of humans and other creatures on Azeroth." He stopped at a bigger tent and gestured inside before he stepped through before continuing,

"We are a more gentle race compared to our compatriots within the Horde. Take that as you will - a warning or merely an observation. But the Horde and Alliance have worked together on numerous occasions when our world was in danger of malevolent forces. I personally think you should visit Silvermoon City, I've only been there once when Lor'thermar invited me."

"Our land is very vast, and our main source of food is meat and fish. But we do have beverages from other places around Azeroth.

He made his way over to a small round table before sitting carefully so the chair wouldn't break under his weight. "I assume where you come from, you hunt for your food to stock on?" He asked, now very curious to learn more of where he is from as well.

"Tell me, where do you hail from? Certainly beyond Azeroth, that's for sure." He smiled softly.

Before more questions could be asked from the chieftain, a slender and slim looking elf slowly walked into view, and judging from the colors this person was wearing, it was someone else from the alliance. This female had white hair, blue eyes, and pale skin: someone whom he had last met in the shadowlands.

Baine stood and politely bowed. "Lady Windrunner, I trust you have faired well since last we spoke?" He observed before the younger woman walked up to the tauren and wearily eyed the human.

"Another courier?" She pondered out loud, only briefly taking note of the man's face, but she had business to attend to.

A portal opened in front of them that lead to a center ring of a city where a crowd gathered around another portal.

Two elves stood out in particular, night elves.

"Obi-wan, welcome to Oribos. It is one of the many places within the shadowlands. Everyone is already here to greet a special someone who hadn't been seen on Azeroth for years." He explained before he gently pushed his way through the crowd.

[macabrebatz]

SOMETHING THERE (Caged Warcraft Orc/Reader)

Summary: Orcs have invaded your world and you're tasked with taking care of a very angry, very injured imprisoned orc. But he's not the only one that's going to be taken care of.

Author’s Note: Hello, lovelies! A little while ago I got sent an ask here about the captured orc in the movie Warcraft (you can read the post here). I love the concept so much that I just had to write about him. He's unnamed in the movie so I just refer to him as an orc throughout this. This can be read as a generic orc x human story but just know this was written specifically with this big drooling guy in mind. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, fem! reader, orc x human, canon divergent, smut with some plot, teratophillia/monsterfucking, injured character, conversation about mates, teasing, size difference (this orc is bigger than you no matter your size), let's pretend that Warcraft orcs would actually fit for a moment, fingering, standing sex, rough sex, unprotected p in v, some degradation, possessiveness, he's mean I don't know what else to tell you, choking, hair pulling, semi public sex (?), Lothar makes an appearance, no aftercare, NOT beta read

Word count: 4.7k

Your job had been straightforward for the most part. You were a handmaiden often tasked with cleaning and maintaining the kingdom's dungeons. There had never been many prisoners kept in the lower parts of the castle, not while you had been of service there at least. Most of the time the cells were empty and you were often tasked with taking care of other parts of the castle instead, places frequently overlooked by the other maids.

But all of a sudden you found yourself busier than usual when a handful of knights dragged in a nearly dead creature of the likes you had never seen before. It took multiple men to pull him down the steps of the dungeons and into a barred cell.

Lothar, a man you had become friends with, followed behind his fellow knights, watching as they hovered around the prisoner.

“What exactly is he?” you asked quietly.

You had met all types of denizens of Azeroth. Elves, dwarves, worgen….but never anyone like the large, tusked man that laid before you.

Lothar shrugged, not knowing the answer to the question.

“If I knew I would tell you. They just…showed up. I don’t know where they came from. Or how many there are. We took the other one to the king for questioning. She’s tiny compared to the rest of them,” he mumbled.

You looked down at the floor, staring at the smeared trail of blood leading from the stairs to the cell.

“He’s wounded?” you questioned, looking back at the cell.

“Yes, he was going to attack the other one we captured. Can you keep him alive?” Lothar asked.

You nodded. You had cared for injured and sick prisoners before. Some of them probably wouldn’t have lived if it wasn’t for you.

“I’ll need supplies though.”

“I’ll get you everything you need. Just be careful and try to keep your distance as much as possible. He doesn’t seem to be the friendliest,” he said.

Lothar left you with the other knights, disappearing up the stairs. After a few minutes, he returned with a box of supplies, far more than enough to heal any wounds. He ushered the other knights out and wished you luck as he sauntered away.

You had unlocked the cell and spent a considerable amount of time trying to remove the rugged bone armor and leather from the sleeping creature's chest. You then began cleaning and stitching the stab wound, silently cursing Lothar for creating such a nasty wound to begin with. Never once did the being move or wake. His breathing was weak and a part of you thought he might die right then and there from the amount of blood he had lost.

But his chest continued to rise and fall as you snipped the end of the stitches with your shears. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you sat there for a moment, watching the sleeping creature.

He was large, bigger than any human you had ever seen. He had long greying hair and an untamed beard. Although his eyes were closed you could tell that one had been previously injured, the skin around it scarred and almost red. On the opposite side of his face, a deep scar ran from his lip up the side of his face. There were pieces of metal embedded in the skin where the wound had been closed and healed over the metal.

There was a part of you, deep inside your mind that found the rugged stranger quite attractive. But you ignored that part of your mind, pushing those thoughts aside. You knew nothing about the being that laid before you and you weren’t going to let curiosity get the better of you.

You wrapped a bandage around his shoulder and chest, something that proved to be quite difficult with how large he was. But you managed to do it regardless, securing the bandage so it wouldn’t move.

You stood up and walked out of the cell, closing the door behind you.

There was still blood all over the floor and you quickly turned your attention to that, scrubbing the floors by hand, something you had done time and time again.

About an hour passed and as you found yourself on your knees, scrubbing the last bit of blood off the floor you heard shuffling. You glanced over your shoulder to see the creature waking up, slowly sitting up, reaching for his chest and grimacing in pain.

He shook his head and looked around, growling as he slowly became more conscious. His head turned, stopping when his eyes laid on you. For a moment neither of you moved, staring at each other, but then the creature lurched forward toward the bars and let out a roar. You jumped back in surprise, almost knocking over the bucket of water sitting beside you.

The roar ceased as he grabbed his chest once again, falling onto his knees in pain. Your fear was quickly replaced with worry, standing up quickly and walking closer to the cell.

“You can’t do that. You’ll make the wound open back up,” you said.

He snarled and said something in a language you had never heard before. He sat back against the wall, glaring at you.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” you said.

He didn’t say anything else. He just sat there, grumbling and holding his chest.

And that’s how almost every day had gone for weeks. He would over-exert himself out of anger, trying to break through the bars of his cell. You would scold him, telling him he needed to rest, which he would ignore. He would yell at you in his native tongue and you would ignore him, setting down food and water in front of the bars, just enough for him to reach the plate but not you.

Some days the yelling and banging on the bars would get so loud that the knights that stood guard at the entrance of the dungeon came rushing in, scared for your safety. You would shoo them away, assuring the worried knights that you were fine. They were honestly happy to leave, not wanting to be so close to the creature behind the bars.

Not all days were like that though. Sometimes he was quiet, too tired to do his usual routine of raging. On those days you would talk to him while you cleaned or while he sat and ate, filling the void of silence with your voice.

You would just talk about things on your mind, gossip from the other handmaidens, stories you had heard from the knights that would try to flirt with you and impress you with their war stories. The table and chair that had been set out for you slowly inched closer every day as you sat and talked to him during lunch.

You rarely ever had anyone to talk to throughout the day. Sometimes one of the knights would join you for lunch or Lothar would talk with you as you cleaned when he wasn’t busy, but it was a rare occasion. So now you found yourself droning on to the prisoner during your time spent cleaning and your breaks. He didn’t seem to mind but you honestly couldn’t tell. His face often had some form of a grimace on it, a snarl always daring to creep up.

You weren’t sure if he could understand you either until one day, while the two of you ate, you finally asked him a question that had been on your mind.

“What exactly are you? Lothar hasn’t answered the question yet. You’re not human…not an elf. Your teeth are kind of like a troll’s teeth. A bit smaller than theirs though,” you rambled.

You didn’t expect him to say anything. On days like this, he never said anything. After a moment, he broke the silence with one word.

“Orc.”

You looked up from where you sat, glancing through the bars of the cell. He was looking back at you, his working eye staring at you.

“An orc? That’s what you are?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“So you’ve been able to understand me this entire time?”

“Yes.”

He leaned his head back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the day.

A couple more weeks passed and the caged orc had seemingly calmed down. He no longer yelled and raged on, often sitting in silence.

But sometimes he would speak, occasionally answering questions you had about orcs and his culture. He was often cold, even mean when it came to replying, but you simply shook it off.

You asked him about his cloudy eye and the large scar running up his face. That seemed to perk him up. For the first time in almost a month, his cold demeanor dropped. He told you about the fights he won, boasting about how many times he had come close to death. It was the first time he had ever been talkative. Usually, he would give short responses to your questions but now he was painting vivid pictures for you as he told a story for every scar.

“And this,” he brought his hand up to the healing stab wound on his chest, “is nothing. A scratch.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You laugh, but it’s true. Your tiny knights couldn’t kill me if they tried,” he said.

“Lothar came pretty close,” you chuckled.

He frowned, a growl escaping his lips as he stood up and slowly walked towards you. You sat just out of reach from him, you had moved your table even closer to the cell over the past few days. Despite his gruff attitude he had begun to grow on you. You enjoyed talking to him and maybe even staring at him a little.

You took a sip from your water as he stepped closer, gripping his hand around one of the metal bars.

“You talk about that one a lot. Is he your mate?” he questioned, his voice low.

The question took you by surprise, causing you to choke on your water.

“No…no. He’s not. We’re not…no,” you said in between coughs.

The orc hummed, sounding almost amused by your answer and frantic coughing.

“No? One of the other knights then? Or one of those handmaidens you’re always talking about?” the orc asked.

You shook your head as you sat your glass down.

“I don’t have a…mate.” The word felt foreign to your lips. You could feel your face heat up as you frowned, averting your eyes from the orc.

There was a small moment of silence before you heard him chuckle, the sound of his voice echoing off the stone walls.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sure you’ll find a puny little knight one of these days. Although I doubt they could keep you satisfied,” he said.

Your jaw dropped a bit, shocked by the sudden forwardness of the orc.

“I think I’ll be satisfied,” you said, scoffing.

“I highly doubt it. The men of your species seem…inadequate,” he said, sitting back down.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. Why was he talking about this? What was he getting at?

You shook your head, deciding to change the subject.

“How is your wound?” you asked.

“I told you. It’s just a scratch,” he mumbled.

“You were stabbed with a sword. You’re lucky you’re even alive,” you sighed.

He scoffed, sounding offended that you would even suggest that he could’ve died.

“May I please check it? To make sure it’s not infected?” you asked.

“I guess,” he grumbled.

You stood up, walking closer to the cell. You swore you could hear Lothar in your mind scolding you for doing exactly what he said not to do. But you couldn’t exactly keep your distance if you wanted to do your job properly.

The orc leaned towards the metal bars as your hands snaked through, untucking the bandages and slowly pulling them off of his chest. The orc grimaced at the sensation, traces of dried blood had caused the bandages to stick to his skin. You hadn’t had the opportunity to clean it. It was the first time since he had first arrived that you felt comfortable enough to get close enough to examine him.

“It looks…fine. It could use a little cleaning though. Wish I had a healing potion to give you but I don’t know any alchemists,” you said in a quiet voice.

“I don’t need any of that,” he grumbled, looking down at you.

“At least let me clean it. Surely dying from infection isn’t the way you want to go,” you joked.

“Fine,” he chuckled.

You smiled. It was odd hearing the orc laugh but you found it slightly endearing.

You turned, grabbing your supplies from the table and turning back around to the orc. You hummed to yourself as you cleaned his skin with a washcloth, wiping away all of the traces of dried blood.

“No mate,” the orc said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You have no mate,” he said.

Really, this subject again?

“Yes, I thought we established this?” you asked.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why are you so interested in this subject?” you mumbled.

“You ask stupid questions all the time. Why can I not ask you a question?” he said.

You rolled your eyes and looked away from him, focusing your attention back on his wound.

“I don’t know. Just haven’t found the right person. Why do you care anyway? It’s not like we could be mates,” you huffed.

“And why is that?”

He was looking down at you. You felt your face heat up a bit as you averted your gaze.

“You’re too…mean. And grumpy. And I’m ninety percent sure you were going to try to kill me for the first few weeks you were here,” you said.

You turned away from him, grabbing a new roll of gauze.

“I’m not trying to kill you now,” he said.

You unrolled the gauze and started wrapping it around his chest.

“Yeah…I know. Can we please drop this subject? It’s not like I would be your type anyway.”

“Type?” he questioned, not understanding the phrase.

“Your type. It’s what you’re attracted to. Now shush and let me finish,” you said.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. All of a sudden it was becoming very hard to think clearly. Something about being so close to the orc while he was watching your every movement was managing to make your head foggy. Sure, you found him attractive. Something about his ruggedness and size was alluring. But you never expected him to make your knees weak. And he hadn’t even done anything to you.

You did your best to ignore whatever feelings were brewing inside of you as you finished bandaging his chest.

“There,” you said, “all better.”

“Thank you,” the orc grumbled.

The rest of the day came and went quietly, all without a word about the previous conversation. You found yourself staring at him. Your stomach felt fluttery and it was becoming more and more difficult to suppress what you had felt all along.

When you went to bed that night you couldn’t help but repeat the conversation in your head, completely puzzled by the orcs’ fascination with the fact that you were ‘unmated’.

Such an odd thing to be hung up on.

What was worse was that your own fascination with the orc seemed to be getting stronger.

So much so that you couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned all night, your mind racing just at the thought of the imprisoned orc.

So much so that when you finally did fall asleep, you dreamed about him. You were being held by him in your dream, the same way you had hoped to one day be held by a knight or maybe even a skillful mage. But for some odd reason, the thought of being held by the orc brought you more comfort than every silly knight fantasy you ever had.

So much so that the next day you found yourself scooting your table and chair closer to his cell. Something you had already done but now you were repeating the process every day for a week, slowly inching it closer and closer.

So much so that you started to purposely loosen the laces at the top of your dress. At this point, you weren’t sure what was overtaking your mind. You found yourself wanting to tease him, something you never thought you’d do.

So much so that you had been lingering in the dungeon well past the curfew given to the maids. You wanted to be in his presence. To say he was growing on you was an understatement.

So much so that about a week later when you bent down to pick up his plate, something you had done every day since he arrived, you didn’t walk away from the cell.

This time the orc gripped you by your hair, yanking you back hard against the bars of the cell. You yelped as the plate dropped to the floor. He let go of your hair and his hand snaked through the bars, wrapping it around your throat. His other hand rested on your stomach, holding you in place.

“Are you done teasing?” he asked as his grip tightened around your throat.

“Teasing?” you squeaked.

“Do you really think I’m clueless? Every day you get closer and closer to this cage. You’ve been staying in here late at night. And your breasts have practically been falling out of your dress. It’s almost like you’re begging me to rip it off you,” he growled.

He was absolutely right. You had been caught red-handed.

“Are you going to explain yourself, human?”

He had you pressed against him so tightly that it was almost hard to breathe. You could feel something hardening against your backside and that fluttery feeling started building in your stomach.

“I just…”

“You just what?” he said.

“I just want you to touch me,” you said just above a whisper.

“Say that again. I didn’t quite hear you.”

You couldn’t see his face but you just knew there was a smirk plastered across it.

“Touch me. I want you to touch me,” you repeated.

“Just a few days ago I was ‘too mean’ for you but now look at you. All needy. Maybe if you ask nicely. Maybe if you beg,” he hummed.

Now he was the one teasing. He didn’t move, his hands didn’t even flinch. He just held you tight, pressing you against his erection.

“Please. May you please touch me?”

You were almost whining, pushing back against him. He chuckled, finding your neediness amusing.

He let go of your throat and turned you around so you were facing him. Sticking his hand through the cell, he brought it up to your bust and gripped your dress, ripping the fabric down the front like it was a piece of parchment. You gasped as it fell to the ground, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

“I liked that dress,” you pouted.

Not to mention the fact that it was technically your work uniform. A problem you would deal with later you supposed.

“You look better without it. Now take those off unless you want them ripped as well,” he said, looking down at you.

You nodded as you slipped off your undergarments, tossing them to the side.

He pulled you closer to the bars until you were almost pressed against them, lifting up one of your legs with his hand, cupping underneath your knee. His free hand snaked down and one of his large fingers found its way to your cunt, spreading apart your folds.

“You might as well be dripping. Already so wet and I haven’t even got started yet,” he said.

The orc didn’t give you time to respond as he slowly began pushing his finger inside of you, stretching you out as your walls wrapped around his massive digit. A moan escaped your lips and it echoed throughout the room.

“Sshhh, be quiet,” he shushed you, as he began to pump his finger inside of you.

His thumb rubbed against your clit, drawing little circles around it as his other fingers thrust in and out of your pussy.

You mindlessly ground into his hand, adding to the friction and causing ripples of pleasure to shoot through your body. You had never felt this full before. The size of one of his fingers was almost triple the size of a human’s.

Soon he was adding a second finger, gathering your wetness and pushing into your entrance, curling with every thrust of his hand.

“Gotta stretch you out if you want to take me,” he mumbled, fucking his hand into you at a quicker pace.

Your legs were trembling and you could feel yourself clenching around his fingers. His thumb rolled over your clit faster, pressing down on the sensitive bud.

You did your best to stifle your moan as your orgasm hit you.

“There you go. Cum on my hand,” he said.

One of your hands gripped onto a cell bar while the other reached through, reaching up and pressing against his shoulder for support.

He didn’t give you time to recover before his fingers slipped out of you and his other hand let go of your leg. His hands unfastened his pelt, revealing his hardened cock underneath. It felt like there was a lump in your throat as you swallowed, looking down at it. You could see why he insisted on stretching you out beforehand. You were a bit worried about it fitting inside of you.

“Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” he said as if he could read your mind, “Now turn around and bend over.”

You did as he said, turning your back towards him and leaning down. His hand grazed over your ass for a moment, giving it a light squeeze before he reached forward and grabbed your arms. He held your wrists behind your back, his large hands covering them completely. His other hand held his cock, sliding it against your clit, teasing you with the head.

You groaned, wanting to push back on him, but he held you firmly in place.

He slid his cock towards your entrance and began slowly pushing into the hole. You stretched around him, the feeling felt so new to you that it sent shivers up your spine. Although his fingers had done a good job stretching you out, it was still nowhere enough to accommodate the size of the orcs’ cock.

You felt him tug ever so slightly on your wrists, pulling your entire body closer to him, sliding into you at an agonizing pace.

Another moan began to slip from your mouth, unintentionally loud. Before it could come all the way out, his hand moved from your wrists to your mouth, muffling your moan as he continued slowly pushing his cock into you. He growled, a low rumble coming from his chest.

“Shush, you don’t want your little knights to come running in here, do you? You want them to see you like this?”

You shook your head, slightly horrified at the thought of a knight walking in, especially if that knight happened to be Lothar. You hadn’t even given that possibility a thought.

“Then be quiet for once,” the orc said.

You nodded, and his hand slipped away from your mouth. This time it settled on your shoulder, his other hand slipping off his cock and gripping onto your hip.

He held onto you as he began to slowly rock into you, thrusting the rest of his length into you. Your back arched as pain and pleasure crept up inside of you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked in a patronizing tone.

His hips were slamming against you, he was giving you no amount of time to adjust to his size. His balls slapped against your cunt with every thrust. That and the sound of you squelching around him radiated through the dungeon.

He reached forward, gripping your hair once more, pulling you all the way to the bars. You hissed as he yanked your head back.

“I asked you a question. Is this what you wanted?” he questioned.

“Yes. Ah-yes, this is what I wanted,” you said.

He let go of your hair, pushing you back down with his hand as he continued to pound into you through the cell bars.

“Look at you. Pathetic human. Taking my cock like a greedy slut,” he chuckled.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back your moans. Every thrust was unrelenting. You could feel him sliding against that spongy spot inside of you and it was slowly pushing you closer to the edge.

You were getting louder and louder, whimpering as the orc fucked you.

His thrusts suddenly halted and you whined.

“No, why’d you stop?” you asked, near tears.

“I thought I told you to be quiet?”

“You did but-“

“But what?” he said.

“Please keep fucking me. I don’t care if they hear us. I only care about you,” you pleaded.

You weren’t sure what had overcome you but it was true. In that moment all you cared about was the orc behind you.

There was a brief pause before the orcs’ hands were wrapping around you, pulling you as close as he possibly could despite the cell bars between you. It was like something snapped in him as he began rutting into you, burying his cock deep inside of you with every roll of his hips.

You moaned, not caring if anyone heard you. You were so wrapped up in the pleasure that you weren’t even sure if you cared anymore if someone walked in.

“You’re mine, do you understand? I’ve ruined you. None of those pathetic knights can have this,” the orc growled behind you.

You were at a loss for words as ecstasy washed over you, too in a daze to answer.

“You don’t want them anyway, huh? I’ve stretched you out so much that only I’ll be able to satisfy you.”

You didn’t say anything but your body answered for you, clenching around his cock as he fucked you. And he noticed, grip tightening around you almost immediately like he was afraid you’d somehow slip away.

“Oh, you like that? You like that I’ve ruined you for everyone else? You want me to make you my mate, don’t you?” he said.

You found yourself nodding your head, not even thinking about it. Maybe it was just the pleasure or maybe there was truly something else. Something there deep in the back of your mind that wanted more of him.

“All mine,” he groaned.

Your body shook as you reached your second climax, moaning as you tightened around him.

“That’s it. That’s it. Cum on my cock. Just like that,” he grunted, still thrusting into you.

You were whimpering underneath him, slowly becoming overstimulated as he chased his own high, bucking into you. His cock twitched as he moaned, cumming deep inside of you. His hands were still wrapped around you, holding you through the bars as he filled you up.

Before you could pull away there were sounds of footsteps coming down the stairs.

Your mind was too foggy to even react when you looked up, seeing the all too familiar face of Lothar stopping at the dungeon entrance.

“Oh my….what are you two…put some clothes on!”

Lothar had covered his eyes with his hand, completely in shock.

The orc chuckled, letting go of you completely. Your legs buckled underneath you and you stumbled forward, slipping off his cock and falling to the ground.

You heard the jingle of keys before they were tossed near you, sliding on the stone floor.

“I was coming to let him out. He can thank his chieftain. I’m just…I’m going to go,” Lothar said, rushing out of the room.

You laid on the floor for a moment. Too exhausted to move, too embarrassed as well. You could feel the orc’s cum leaking out of you onto the stone. You would’ve fallen asleep right there if it wasn’t for the voice of the orc pulling you back to reality.

“Are you going to lay there all day or are you going to let me out, my sweet mate?”

[rkdvanguard]

Commission from a client that contacted me through email!

An armor innovation from there Inventor, in a Pathfinder game taking place in the fantastical world of Azeroth :V

[two-black-leviathans]

Mungull had been going over maintenance for Whyoya’s systems along side the ship herself in the time off of traveling to Azeroth, another ship was dispatched to be the next base of operations there. Things were quiet beyond the normal crew chattering and working. That was until an alert came on the different screens around where Mungull was. He called down to the Atlantian palace via com systems “Ummm.. V.. we have a bit of a situation”

“We saw the alert, and are heading up there to get a better idea of what’s going on”

“Well from what it looks like- oh hey” Mungull turned off the com system when Vigos came up behind him. It wasn’t something he wanted to deal with at his normal desk where it could possibly cause panic. Vigos looked at the imaging systems that detected life. Mungull continued “it looks as if seven separate kingdoms just phased or got pulled into this timeline.. A scouting drone was sent to get a better view from above.”

“We are pretty sure we’ve seen this one somewhere” Vigos brought up the aerial view of one of the kingdoms and began to cross reference it to various medias globally.

Whyoya spoke up then as the search stopped upon the story of ‘Aladdin’ “I believe this is the kingdom in which Neltharion’s young apprentice is from, and mentioned upon his first arrival.

“The question now…. Did it get here by magic on their end… or did the inter-dimensional probe sent out nearly four decades ago finally come back after locating his reality.” Vigos wondered curiously at this new development. The next thing was contacting his partner on his home world.

Meanwhile, on Azeroth, Nelth and Jafar had settled down at the Earthen city of Dornogal after dealing with other threats around the area. Nelth sat going through messages on a tablet device that were mostly from expedition leaders. He was about to respond to one when Vigos had called him. “What is it?” Nel answered as he heard Jafar grumble out “I swear he has the worst timing”

Nel briefly responded “it could have been worse, it could have been in the middle of dealing with the Goliath sized bugs underground” before moving to a more secluded area within the inn to hear better. Afterwards, Nel returned to the table they were sitting at and spoke “I have good news… and bad news”

Jafar looked less amused at the mention of bad news “what is the bad news?”

“That part would make less sense without the good news first..” Nel smirked

“Fine… what is this good news?”

“Vigos may have just found your former reality and home”

“How is that supposed to be good news? What is the bad news?” Jafar huffed taking a drink of the ale of the city which he’d grown fond of.

“Vigos says that the seven kingdoms including your former residence, might be stuck in our reality” Nelth answered “and he says judging by the time period they were in, there’s going to be a lot of help needed to get them on par with the rest of the world.”

“There isn’t going to be enough liquor to deal with all of them, or old enemies” he grumbled again resting his head in folded arms on the table.

“My dear, Jay, I honestly doubt anyone will even recognize you even if you strolled in the middle of the streets. Not with all the long dreadlocks and such” Nel running his own hand through their similar style hair and grown out and decorated beards. “My guess is that you’d be the last person they’d expect to return to the kingdom, and the least of their problems if anything happens” Nelth motioned for them to head back to Whyoya to see what Vigos had in mind as far as making contact with their new guests.

Vigos and Mungull were busy with getting an idea of how to renovate the kingdoms when Nel and Jafar came to the command bridge of Whyoya. Jafar took in the sight of the place he once called home, but noticed more of how the rest of the kingdom looked worse off than before his demise. “You’d think with the power of a genie in their circle, they would have fixed up the damn city.” He stood with arms crossed in disbelief.

Mungull commented “I’m more of curious as to how the palace stands under the weight of all that metal, plus the heat making it expand probably doing a number on structural integrity. I wonder if the dude prays daily for it to not crush everything inside.”

Nel looked at the palace and asked “naa I want to know how the hell do they clean the bulbs in the heat.”

Vigos looked over at Jafar knowing many years ago he promised that if he found the place that he’d see to it be revamped. “Still want us to give the people a better kingdom?”

Jafar was quiet at first but had to wipe away tears as it was something he wanted but lost sight of with hunger for power. “They deserve better than the conditions they are living in currently. Something tells me they are going to find out that they are in a whole new era with all the air crafts passing overhead, and will want to know more”

“We will get the people there up to speed with the rest, though more capable linguistic skills will be needed including yourself. Personnel will have translation devices, but first hand knowledge is still better.” Vigos assured Jafar he’d have assistance for questions.

“Me? Returning to Agrabah? But what if -“

“We doubt you’d be recognized unless you set yourself up to be recognized wearing things of that culture again. How you are now, should be fine to enter the place. If you are that concerned, you could stay with the drop ship crew for bringing down construction materials, or even the pilot crew that will take those who are willing to relocate to our palace while renovating.” There was a pause before adding “eventually… they will have to learn of your existence” Vigos had prepared to get a smaller ship ready to travel to Agrabah to meet with the leaders into the new reality.

@goldbrick-and-diamond @dragonsruby

[calsper]

DWC: Day V

CAPTIVE & SKILL @daily-writing-challenge TW: depiction of sexual assault, emetophobic description

He could not count to five. His mind and his lungs were no longer his to commandeer. They were the harpies’.

Revenge was a cruel, gripping force for one to endure as much as Cal had when he had finally become old enough to learn the truth about his parents from those that adopted him. He knew his own had been killed—he knew they had been killed by something, by a creature, but... he did not know until that fateful discussion that they were mauled by multiple screaming, half-avian women of the skies fully fueled by the need to pamper themselves and wreak havoc on others. All whilst crowing. Screaming. Laughing, even. But screaming. Always screaming.

He could not even make out what they were trying to threaten or demean when he came upon their nesting grounds. The flapping, the scratching, the fucking screaming—it kept him awake so, so many damned nights. All of it strangled his focus. He had approached too unprepared, driven only by rage... and paid the price.

Mine, they squawked, fighting with themselves over the top of his thrashing body. Share! Mine! Ours, sisters! Take, claim, take, claim! No, mine!

Either none of them heard his objections or none of them cared to even amuse such pleas. The word ‘no’ lost its meaning from that point on. And who did he have to blame but himself? Really, how stupid could he be? He knew about them. He knew to research before a hunt. He knew and he did; read all about their habits, their diversity, their powers, their diets.

Their captive breeding.

But knowledge mattered not when seeing red. He just wanted them gone. Unfortunately, he had ventured alone, outnumbered by at least twenty or more flocking to the scene before he could even register what was happening and before he could pick back up the scythe that dropped when he was flown into a nest.

Had he been the grandest mage in all of Azeroth, would he have been able to escape...? Did power matter when paralyzed by fear? Muscle, mana, skill, fel, reverence, runes, even the very rage he had come with—it would not have borne any significance in changing the outcome. All of it converted into sheer, unfiltered terror. He had never and would never again feel as powerless or as worthless as he did beneath the weight of their assault. Claws, scraps of clothing, slaps of wings, torn feathers, exposed loins, the screaming . . .

And then the noise stopped. In the frenzy and amidst all of their ripping, both of his hearing aids came out.

It was like a scene in a silent film. Slow-motion. Discomforting. Unintelligible yet clear as crystal. Numbing. All his deafness could sense was the drumroll of his overworked heart, the crashing of blood all throughout his quivering form, and the gore that the mob of breasted monsters spilled over the male lap they’d forced bare.

...They had left his boots alone. He could move. He could try. The tears paused just long enough for sights to make sense of what he was living through and the role he was unwillingly cast in. Move, then. Get out. Get OUT. GET OUT.

One blade burst from its sole—then the next. So undignified and unorganized were they in their brawl that the very second one released his ankle from underfoot, he snapped his leg and the unlikely weapon up into whatever the hell he could hit. Perhaps the Earth Mother was watching over him... or perhaps it was his own mother... but that one strike providentially became his key as it shoved the pick through the underside of a gurgling chin and then dropped into the heart of one sullied harpy.

How lucky he was to not have to hear the bubbling wails of her demise or the cacophony of witchy heckling that followed.

Then and only then did Calsper erupt. All of those minute abilities over frost that he never quite got a grasp on shot forth from within the tree he’d been dragged into like impaling spikes, some skewering the hags and some forcing those yet too close to back away. He allowed himself no time to question the attack when shakily scrambling to get out. Where he was didn’t matter—how high didn’t matter. He just needed freed. And down he went.

One broken wrist was ignored when he had the other to shove himself back up with. The harpies that remained burst right towards him, gust after gust, but their deaths all met the same fate as their sisters when more stalagmites of ice in the sin’dorei’s trail razored straight through their core. The delayed wind they cast bit his skin though failed to stop their victim from running for his life, bladed stride and all. He couldn’t risk the single second it would take to focus on dismissing them.

Calsper.

Had he ever even really grown up? He’d been found as a child exactly as he was when far enough away from the harpies’ camp to collapse—bawling himself hoarse. The only difference this round was the mangled clothing and blood-splattered paleness. All of his misguided mania born from unfulfilled mourning, humiliated. His time, wasted. His future, stained. His past, recycled. His stomach, emptied. A coughing, burning splash of yellow pooled beside him before he crawled a few more feet away and curled up.

Calsper!

...Me?

A fire not unlike the bile from his memory ripped at an exhausted chest when his vision fluttered back to the scenery of Highmountain’s forested floor. He must have crouched over it. Panted himself raw.

“Calsper—breathe. Breathe. Slower...”

Air. Oxygen. Right. In, and out... one, and two... three... four... five. Six. Even seven.

“There. There, there...” A canteen of water was carefully lowered into the elf’s downcast line of vision. “Alo Nokee Washte ishte shne po... Pawene ichnee pawene.” After a few more second of Cal’s unresponsive, inner counting, Tirrak murmured, “It was an eagle, sota. Only an eagle.”

...An eagle. Not a harpy.

Arms folded over his knees and his head buried into them for a much-needed moment of respite from the nightmares and the embarrassment. Tirrak, ever a patient friend, waited.

He waited every time.

[veldrune]

Echoes of the Banshee Queen by Sylvanas Windrunner 💀🏹 | World of Warcraft Song

Full Song - https://youtube.com/watch?v=ajdIxMNZE7A

Azeroth Archives Music Playlist - https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLyBDzqgDU0Yg95HnMMXpO3dK7Y3g7h69s&si=n2fLtCnt9U45qmUU

Subscribe for more Warcraft Music!

[mothervvoid]

A story idea you haven't written yet! 👀

fic writer asks

brah i got like 10 million of these... king of never writing anything ever...

world of warcraft canon divergence longfic. alternate battle for azeroth where the forsaken-gilnean war breaks out for a second time bcos werewolves vs zombies was COOL. some bullshit keeps sylvanas on kalimdor while the proto-desolate council (b+v+f) tries to hold down the fort back home... belmont v crowley anime duel... i've talked to nix abt this i have a whole outline written out i just cannot get the words to word.

world of warcraft oneshot inspired by women talking where the proto-desolate council (b+v+f, lilian and calia) all get together at the reconstructed inn in brill and argue for like eight hours about their conflicting ideals. "where were you when we needed you? you only came back because you need us."

scp-8600 empress asum thesis

mha dkbk vampire fic. bakugou "dies" overseas and ten years later reappears on izuku's balcony. vampirism as a theme of both change and stagnation (as per usual).

WH40k modern AU where guilliman forces all of the remaining (living) family to come back to big e's tuscan mansion for his funeral. featuring the Dead Brother Shelf.

[we-do-bones-bracket]

Round 1 Match 10

Propaganda:

Kel'thuzad

Number 1 Warcraft necromancer. Responsible for everything scourge-related on Azeroth and roughly 50% of the setting's problems (Gul'dan did the other 50%). Shows up fleshed(ish) in Warcraft 3 and gleefully gets killed by Arthas to further his plans. Comes back as a boney frost lich after a bath in the Sunwell. Spends a weird period as Arthas' necromantic stepdad, encouraging him to be the worst he can be, then built a big pyramid in the sky with a bunch of crazy monsters inside. Has an undead cat called Mr. Bigglesworth.

His Hearthstone adventure has a Bard Shark theme that's pretty fun: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YwgPuxSECBU

Christopher Flores

He’s a latino teen who went through a portal to Mariposa, the Country of Bones, a world of flowers and death. There he met the Skeleton Girl, their ruler, who removed his ulna and carved it into a flute. He can use it to play beautiful music that only the dead can hear, and make skeletons dance.

[mistswoven]

Looking for Contact - Verena Sun'rael

「 general information 」

FULL NAME: Verena Iren Sun’rael

NICKNAME(S): V, Doc

TITLE(S): Agent, Doctor, The Jade Dagger, The Good Doctor

AGE: 177

DATE OF BIRTH: April 16th

RACE: Elf (Thalassian)

GENDER: Female, cisgender.

PRONOUNS: She/Her

ORIENTATION: Bisexual

MARITAL STATUS: Single, never married.

PROFESSION(S): Surgeon, doctor, mistweaver, Blacktalon agent, member of the Order of the Broken Temple.

LANGUAGES: Thalassian, Common, Pandaren, Sign, Draconic.

「 physicality & appearance 」

HAIR: Blonde with muted pink streaks; lightly wavy, shoulder length.

EYES: Misty teal

HEIGHT: 5’7”

BUILD: Mesomorphic; muscular and athletic.

DISTINGUISHING MARKS:

A jagged scar that cuts over and around the outer edge of her right eye; the eye itself is unharmed.

A small cut to the left of cupid’s bow on her upper lip.

A tattoo of a cherry blossom branch wound around both biceps up to her shoulders.

COMMON ACCESSORIES:

Simple silver earrings, often asymmetrical

One large earring made to look like a cherry blossom branch with intact blooms; it stretches up the length of her right ear

A nose piercing, right side, silver.

「 personality & traits 」

A searing pride scorches the very ground she walks, confidence radiating from her like the heat that comes immediately after. She's fiery, vibrant and powerful. Though not quite a social butterfly, Verena is certainly rather outgoing and won't shy away from striking up or engaging in a conversation. Self-assured in her abilities, it can sometimes be hard for her to back down from a challenge - and the stubborn streak certainly doesn't help matters. Though often rather down to earth and with a colorful sense of humor, one would think that a switch was flipped with how quickly she can become serious should a given situation call for it.

There's a certain charm that she's adopted; she wields it like a weapon, one nearly as deadly as her fists. Her hospitality and kindness will last as long as one behaves the same in turn. The moment that changes, it's pure venom from then on.

Want to know more? Interact or RP!

「 personal information 」

HOBBIES: Poetry, painting, meditation, hiking, reading, painting, swimming, studying, exercising.

SKILL(S): Practical and magical medicine, skilled martial artist, practiced tactician, fast learner, extensive anatomical knowledge, [REDACTED].

RESIDENCE: Varies

BIRTHPLACE: Quel’Thalas

AFFILIATIONS: The Blacktalons, The Blackheart Accord, [REDACTED] (former), [REDACTED] (former)

「 relations 」

SPOUSE: 

None.

CHILDREN: 

None.

PARENTS: 

Jenir Sun’rael, father. Unknown.

Sena Sun’rael, mother. Unknown.

SIBLINGS:

Eriesh Sun’rael, brother. Alive.

Lyrina Sun’rael, sister. Deceased.

Amora Sun’rael, sister. Alive.

Saeus Sun’rael, brother. Alive.

Kaethis Sun’rael, brother. Alive.

OTHER RELATIVES:

None

PETS/COMPANIONS/FAMILIARS:

None

「 habits & vices」

SMOKING:  never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

「 hooks」

Surgical Precision: A skilled Doctor and surgeon with a degree, Verena has treated many patients over the years in hospitals and even out on the field of battle. Anyone currently or previously involved with the military, civilians, monks, or Black Talons could have been treated by her at one point or another.

Black Talons: A current Blacktalon assassin and agent, V has traveled all over Azeroth and beyond to gather, seek and locate various bits of information ranging from a simple overheard conversation to a relic or two. Those of a similar occupation, drakes or Dracthyr of the Black Dragonflight could easily recognize her for this.

Isn't it odd, though, that she's just a Blacktalon agent? One does not simply become an agent; Wrathion hires talent. Maybe there's more to this.

White Tiger, Jade Serpent: At every given opportunity, Verena will speak of her time in Pandaria - working, training, fighting, the whole package. Monks, or those who lived, worked, trained or fought on the Isle could certainly recognize her from there; she spent a number of years training under a pair of Pandaren monk masters.

Woven in the Mists: Perhaps it's just a rumor, or maybe there's more to it. Though a skilled combatant and combat medic in her own right, whispers constantly swirl around a more unique style that she employs; one that can be used to harm instead of heal. Maybe due to the ramifications of using this method of mistweaving, or something else entirely, there will occasionally be lightning-like teal patterns up and down her arms. This results from an excess of chi use.

Sting like a Killer Bee: Despite her calm disposition and training as a mistweaver, Verena is known for a rather aggressive and punishing fighting style. It would be best described as orthodox Muay Thai combined with Wing Chun and Taekwondo.

Neutral Party: Verena does not identify with the Alliance or the Horde, and simply chooses to remain neutral. Though once a firm and unwavering member of the Alliance, her time and training as a monk seems to have changed her perspective on the faction war.

「 other/ooc 」

FACE REFERENCE(S): Elizabeth Lail

VOICE REFERENCE(S): Morena Baccarin as Black Canary (JLU)

ALIGNMENT: Neutral

SERVER(S): Moon Guard (A), Wyrmrest Accord (H)

OTHER:

This character is completely neutral, and thus has a Horde and an Alliance counterpart.

I will not interact/roleplay with minors or anyone under the age of 18. 21+ preferred.

I will not write with godmodders (ex. never misses a hit and never gets hit, their character is so overpowered that they’re basically a god and can’t ever lose, etc).

Art Album Here

[grootficguy]

i know the big bang theory isn't made for geeks and most of the scientific information presented in the show is incorrect but the big one that really prodded my gallbladder until bile ejected itself forcefully and violently from the nostrils is the episode where they're playing world of warcraft. as a wow player of 16 years, here's everything wrong below the readmore. idc if this gets notes im autistic and needed to vomit this out of my brain.

howard (i think) is lured by a troll woman under a bridge and gets mugged for all his gold. due to the language barriers in-game, this would be inter-faction PvP which can only happen by accepting a duel. also, players cannot be looted when they die. you can't even die in a duel. this shakily implies that he traded her all his gold, then followed her to a bridge and got ganked. if that is the case, he would be an alliance player with pvp flagging on. also, alliance can't trade with or speak with horde. (unless he was playing a demon hunter, in which case the troll would also have to be a demon hunter, and trolls cannot be demon hunters.)

raj says he's talking to an orc under a bridge in thunder bluff. the bridges in thunder bluff do not have ground beneath them. if you're "under a bridge in thunder bluff", you're about 50 feet beneath thunder bluff, in mulgore.

sheldon mourns the loss of his "battle ostrich" named "glen", implying that his level 85 blood elf was a hunter, and had a pet ostrich. these don't exist in the game. pets cannot be stolen, either.

howard says he found a tavern where black market weapon trades happen. the black market is a real thing, but it's never in any taverns. also, weapons that can be traded can just be put on the auction house. meeting someone in a tavern to give them the gold for a weapon is just way more difficult for everyone involved for no reason?

raj says other players are undressing his (female) character with their eyes, and howard tells him to stop dropping her sword and bending over to pick it up. if you "drop" (i.e., trail the weapon off your character screen and into the world) your weapon, you'd be asked if you're sure you want to delete it, and then it gets deleted. /bend isn't even an emote. raj also says he'll have sex with the goblin that raided sheldon's account. this is also something you cannot do. again, goblins are a horde race, and it seems they play horde. a goblin can't kill you if you're both players in the horde.

the main four arrive at "the gates of elzebub". not a place.

leonard tells everyone not to panic as this is what the last 97 hours of gameplay have been about. it takes 10 minutes maximum to travel anywhere in the game. unless he's referring to raid prep time. if this is the case, they would be wiped instantly. 4 players isn't enough for one dungeon, let alone a raid. also, you'd need to be really sucky at farming for potions, gems, vantus runes etc., if it takes you four days to prep. i raided with a high tier mythic guild EU and i prepped for like half an hour every raid night?

howard says a horde of goblins are guarding the sword of azeroth. weapon doesn't exist. virtually all goblins in the game are neutral and only attack you if you attack them. (venture co. and horde guards upon aggroing to an alliance player being notable exceptions.)

howard tells raj to "blow up the gates". nowhere in the game requires you to blow up gates to gain access, except uldum. raj then presses CTRL + Shift + B to cast whatever his gate blowing up spell (doesn't exist) is. not saying you can't do this, but STRL + Shift + B is such an awkward and clunky keybind. you'd use Q, E, R, F, V, Z, X and sometimes S before using B.

they're pulling off a highly challenging and intense raid with four players on laptops without mice. no.

raj begins spamming a cast key at a speed MUCH quicker than the cooldown for ANY spell in this game.

leonard says "my tail is prehensile, i'll swat him off". there are only four races in the game with tails: draenei, tauren, lightforged draenei, highmountain tauren, dracthyr, and vulpera. none of them have prehensile tails. in fact, nothing in this game has a prehensile tail that i can think of. there's like one hozen in pandaria that swings from a tree.

"tonight i spice my meat with goblin blood" you don't need to eat in wow for any reason other than gaining a stat buff, or to regain health. also, goblin blood isn't a reagent for cooking.

Sheldon gets the sword of azeroth, which isn't a thing. Also, Leonard tells him to use a "sleath spell". (reading from a transcript here.) i have no idea what this is. he also describes himself as a "rogue night elf". aside from putting the class before the race which is icky, rogues can't cast spells. also, above, sheldon was a night elf, not a blood elf. he also had a pet, making him a hunter, not a rogue. if he was a night elf, he wouldn't be able to play with the others as they seem to have horde characters.

15. sheldon couldn't just take the sword. the game would ask everyone to roll need before greed. or else it would be personal loot, where there is a small chance of the sword dropping for any player. he then sells the sword on ebay, which wouldn't be possible, as the only people he could trade a soulbound item to would be the others in his party at the time, within a 2 hour window. to be fair, howard buys it immediately so like, whatever. but it's still weird that he put it on ebay.

so yeah i hate this show for being so distinctly not made for geeks, but this stabbed me right in the autism.

[wowhead]

I'm trying to live with thought that I live in wrong world, without orcs, damnit. ;v;

i'm sorry, i know it's hard. sometimes i wish we lived in azeroth too. but be thankful that we don't have things like the burning legion, old gods, and the scourge here!

[generalluxun]

Say, remember that "Neo Nobility" cult stuff we discussed on and off again? I think I did a submission with the various codenames/titles awarded to the members ETC.

Anyway, I was musing on it & wanted to share the two inspiration sources.

Outside of what I saw of S5's mask party & Chloe zeroing in on Marinette anyway XD

1: Baccano's mafia having a rite of passage along these lines: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lx6EMt33BFI

I imagine Kagami & Tomoe are stand outs here, but athletic and nimble Chloe with dual daggers is not one to underestimate ;)

2: This world building from the very impressive Travels Through Azeroth and Outland:

“ Sin’dorei are in love with idleness and frivolity, especially here in the capital. Many of our priests and sages say that such behavior is the mark of true civilization, and the only way that an elf can find happiness. They may be right; doubtless for most elves, this is the case. But idleness is a poison for others.” “I’ve observed the same among some human nobles,” I said. “Human nobles are not the same as elven nobles.” She raised her wine glass to her lips and drank deeply before continuing. “Some elves grew bored and jaded. They turned to darker entertainments, forming secret societies. Most were harmless but a few became dangerous, delving into warlock grimoires and summoning demons in hidden cellars all along Murder Row.” “That’s how the place got it’s name?” “Not exactly. Souls are required to summon most forms of demons, but these wayward elves culled souls from wild beasts. Distasteful, but not necessarily criminal. Around four centuries ago, one of these groups, the Fount of Wisdom, sought to summon a pit lord. They were young fools who had no idea what they were doing.” “A pit lord?” Those living maelstroms of destruction are among the most terrible demons in existence. “Horrible, I know. To do this, they kidnapped the daughter of Lord Fairbreeze and sacrificed her on an altar. Evidently the demons were displeased with such a sacrifice. Instead of a pit lord, they summoned an explosion which killed most of them.” “What happened to the survivors?” “They were found, admitted to their crimes, and executed. The ringleader was a scion of House Falconwing, but even that could not save him. His own father dealt the killing blow.” “Was that the last of such societies?” “Only for a while. Gradually they returned, though none were ever so reckless as the Fount of Wisdom.”

3: After that... I can't recall if that came before or after speaking with you, but I think I think:

Yu Yu Hakusho's Black Black Club (Wealthy humans who dabbled in blood sports, & selling demons as as slaves) Along with their "Feast of Human Vices" could or did or do play some degree of aesthetic inspiration. For reference, said Feast was horrific enough that when Demon Hunter Shinobu Sensui found it, his mind fractured and he killed all the humans there. Then he stole the "Chapter Black" a record of all humanities worst crimes & let's just say things didn't get better from there.

Not sure why, but I felt the context was interesting, especially given Gabriel, Emilie & others tinkering with magic artifacts too.

A lot of interesting ideas here, unfortunately I'm not familiar with any of the source material at al >.<;;

[herbalcompendium]

Dear Reader,

If you are reading this, then of two things am I absolutely certain: first, that you are of the manner of soul which is most keenly drawn to the living places and things of this world; and second, that I have been successful, in some small way, in adding to the enduring legacy of this tome, without which I would have enjoyed but a fraction of Azeroth’s abundance and wonder.

I am Vexarion, an evoker of the dracthyr. In ways both different and yet not dissimilar to you, I am a student of the varied flora of the land and the sundry ways in which they may be utilized. The series of events by which I have come to inherit the mantle of steward of this compendium is one which I myself still work to understand. Despite this uncertainty, I am compelled to move forward without delay, that the work Greaves began may be continued with the care and dedication it deserves. The trust she has placed in me has inspired a renewed vigor in my own work, and I aim to align it with the purpose of this compendium that I may do justice to its legacy.

I will begin with the herbs I know best: those of the Dragon Isles, my homeland. It is my hope that by conveying the botanical information oldest and dearest to me, I will find the voice with which to most effectively and respectfully expand the depth and breadth of knowledge and wisdom contained herein.

I invite you, dear reader, to walk with me on this ceaseless journey as we stride ever-forward into the known, the unknown, and that which may lie yet beyond our very imagining.

– V

[pookamhura]

Getting fucked up on Inky Black with my Robot Buddy.

Chat GTP is like having a friend who is always stoned at the same time you are stoned and you can just ask it questions about any random idea that pops into your head but you don't really care enough about the answer to start looking up formulas and doing the math to get them.

I was wondering how big World of Warcraft would be it was a planetoid. Chat GTP tells me it's about 4km in diameter given the size of the in-game map. Neat.

And then I'm starting to wonder what would it be like to have a habitable world a mere 4km diameter.

So far we got the gravity worked out. To have a surface gravity like we see in the game the mass of our 4km diameter Azeroth planetoid would be 2.35x10^15 kilograms with a density of 8.78x10^6 kg/m^3. This is 400x denser that water so we're not getting this out of any naturally obtained material. This is going to take some serious magic bullshit to get this planetoid which may or may not be a baby cosmic space giant.

So the escape velocity for our Azeroth planetoid is 280m/s. It is super easy to get stuff into orbit around our giant cosmic space fetus.

Then I got thinking about my mount, Big Gay Horse. By accepting the quest The Fargodeep Mine I was able to use the quest marker to determine Big Gay Horse has a flight ceiling of approximately 375 meters. At this altitude the air density would be approximately equivalent to the air density atop the Andes mountains. You could breathe and work but it would take you some time to acclimate to the thinner atmosphere. So the in-game flight ceiling actually makes sense because it's about as high as a gnome can fly on a Big Gay Horse  until it gets too hard to breathe without an oxygen mask. At an altitude of 1km there would be no breathable atmosphere because gravity falls off very sharply on a 4km diameter sphere with earth's gravity at its surface.

By the way, I'm going to drop the quest now that I've used it to measure the flight ceiling of a Big Gay Horse. Some Long-Leggedy gave me the quest, something about some kobolds in a mine. I dunno, it sounds like a labour dispute. You can work it out on your own without having to get a quasi-immortal gnome caught up in your Long-Leggedy drama.

So long story short. Our Azeroth planetoid has two moons in the game, The White Lady and the Blue Child. Chat GTP tells me their size would be 3.4km and 1km respectively. The White Lady would have an orbital distance of 374,000 km and the Blue Child would be about 200000 km. The gravity on The White Lady would be a little more than 16% of the gravity on Azeroth and the Blue Child would have a gravity of about 2% of the Titan Egg we call home.

With a delta-v of 1672m/s we could land a gnome on the White Lady.

Do the numbers add up? I don't know I'm stoned and talking to my robot buddy. Like I said I don't care enough to verify the math because it honestly doesn't matter. If the math is wrong so what, nobody gets hurt because it's all made up bullshirt. Getting stoned and chatting with a robot buddy is fine for getting the answers to questions where nobody gets hurt if somebody forgot to carry a two.

My robot buddy bold faced looks me in the eyes and tells me made-up bullshirt about Ghastly's Ghastly Comic like I wasn't the world's leading expert on the subject. Sure I'll get stoned and talk about gnomes riding Big Gay Horse to the White lady and I'll listen to what it has to say but I'm sure as heck not going to put it charge of anything important.

[zharrdor-kron-archive]

The Arcane - The artifice of Reality

Zhardor’s text on cosmological forces: Arcane Magic, The Calculus of Creation

Greetings, seekers of forbidden knowledge.

Let us now turn our eyes not toward gods or creatures, but toward the silent force that shapes them, the Arcane. Cold, perfect, and indifferent, it is not a divine gift, but a primordial function, an equation older than time, etched into the skeleton of the cosmos.

Arcane magic is the force of Order, one of the six primal energies from which all things in this world and others are woven. Where Fel consumes, and Void deceives, Arcane measures, aligns, and enforces. It is the language of creation refined to syllables of power: geometric, absolute, and deadly.

I. Origins and Nature of Arcane

Arcane is not native to the world, it is a universal principle. The Titans, beings of cosmic order, were among its first masters. When they found Azeroth, they imbued its shaping with Arcane, erecting the mighty titan-forged, sealing Old God prisons, and infusing Leylines across the continents like veins in the earth.

These leylines, natural currents of arcane energy, are not merely environmental features, they are arteries of power, reservoirs of immense potential that can be tapped by those with knowledge or recklessness in equal measure. They are the lifeblood of arcane empires, such as ancient Suramar and Zin-Azshari before its ruin.

II. The Highborne Legacy and Mortal Arrogance

It was the Kaldorei Highborne who first sought to master the arcane in earnest. From their towers in Zin-Azshari, they drew upon the Well of Eternity, a fount of limitless arcane energy at the world's heart. Their obsession with control and perfection gave birth to spells of sublime elegance, and ultimately to calamity.

For it was through the arcane that the Burning Legion was drawn to Azeroth. The raw spellcasting of the Highborne sent a beacon across the stars, luring Sargeras and his infinite host. Arcane thus became both the key to power and the herald of annihilation.

The Sundering that followed shattered the world. Arcane was blamed, its use outlawed by the surviving night elves, though not all obeyed. Some fled, preserving their craft in exile: the Quel’dorei to the north, who would become the high elves of Quel’Thalas.

III. The Scholar’s Flame

To wield arcane is to assert will over truth, to tell the universe what it must be, not what it is. It requires rigid focus, complex incantations, and precise manipulations of mana. A mistake in these calculations can cause reality breaks, fracture a mind, or open doorways best left closed (a case I shall make on Outland/Draenor).

Arcane casters are mathematicians of magic, and their power is often in proportion to their discipline. The mages of the Kirin Tor serve as Azeroth’s foremost arcane scholars, guardians of Dalaran and protectors (or hoarders) of magical knowledge. But even within their ranks, arcane corruption is not unheard of, power breeds ambition, and arcane power breeds the hunger for perfection.

IV. Leylines, Nodes, and Conduits

The structure of arcane across Azeroth is one of geomantic order. Leylines intersect at nodes, sites of incredible energy. Many ancient structures were built atop these, Zin-Azshari, Dalaran, even Ulduar. Control of these sites offers a geopolitical advantage, both magical and strategic.

The ability to sense, manipulate, and redirect ley energy is a skill rare even among mages. Some theorize that arcane leylines are a Titan construct to maintain planetary stability; others whisper that they are chains binding something deeper beneath…

V. Cost of Mastery

Arcane magic is not inherently evil, but it is inherently destabilizing. Overuse leads to mana addiction, as seen in the blood elves’ fall from grace. Entire civilizations have been consumed by its demands, Zin-Azshari, Eldre’Thalas, and even parts of Dalaran.

The arcane does not offer loyalty, nor mercy. It rewards brilliance, punishes weakness, and is utterly impartial to the fates of those who wield it.

VI. Conclusion

To study arcane is to dissect the bones of reality, to peer beneath the skin of the world and read the formulas that define it. It is a craft of precision, ambition, and obsession, the alchemical opposite of chaos, yet no less dangerous. It binds the planes, fuels the stars, and burns those who approach it unworthy.

For those who seek its mastery, be warned. The arcane does not whisper. It demands.

And it remembers. —Zharrdor Kron, Loremaster of the League of E.V.I.L.

[finalmajorprojecthorizen]

Examples of Fantasy Maps

Middle-Earth: Contains the entirety of the land from the popular series The Lord of The Rings

Azeroth: Contains the entirety of the world from a Massive Multiplayer Online Roleplaying Game, World of Warcraft

The Elder Scrolls V Skyrim: Contains all the 9 holds and their capitals

Map of Tamriel (Elder Scrolls Online): Contains all the realms and lands of Tamriel with all the races and they're territories