#wra rp

[celassa]

A priestess is never alone in the night….

Done by a wonderful guild mate, Mauvourneen

[thevelvetcartel]

The Velvet Cartel invites you to Go to Fel this Hallow's End! Join us for a night of frights as we ring in the holiday!

There will be a chance to win art from our talented artists! A mount raffle, pet battles, a costume contest, and more!

When: Saturday, October 26th at 5:30pm server time.

Where: Irontree Clearing, Felwood (WrA).

We hope to see you all there!

[nahisummerhold]

My Moodboard for the All That Glitters Rave Tonight

Art by @actualsailboat Outfit by Me Moodboard created on Canva

[talah-dorei]

Talah’dorei

Translation: (Varies with Speaker Preference) Survival Borne, Borne of Survival, Enduring Children, Surviving Children, Children of Endurance, Children of Survival

Anu’eran voras.

Translation: We rise from the ruins.

We are a night elf themed, lore-friendly, heavy roleplay collective. Our goal is to create a welcoming community for kaldorei roleplayers and their allies. We will strive to promote, generate, and encourage roleplay opportunities outside of the city hubs and inspire world roleplay. Talah’dorei is not a new organization or sect to the night elf culture. It is simply a chosen community name that captures the essence of the night elven story thus far. They have survived so much tragedy. They have endured.

We have a diverse group of people and accept EVERYONE for who they are. So keep sexuality, race, religion, politics, and other similar "High Impact" subjects out of public channels.

Out of Character drama needs to be kept to a bare minimum. Also, remember to keep IC and OOC separate. If you have a problem with a member, please contact the leader/moderator of your choosing, and hopefully, we can find a solution before it makes everyone uncomfortable.

Keep your roleplay etiquette in check. No God Modding. No Meta Gaming. No Trolling. We are a lore-friendly community. We understand there is grey area where headcanon can flourish and expand but please do not force your personal canon on others or expect them to accept it as their own.

We are a 21+ community. Due to the discussions here, members must be able to handle mature language and content. That said, there is no reason to push the mature rating to its limits. Use the spoilers feature for questionable art, this server is a no ERP zone, and keep excessively explicit conversations out of the public channels.

This is, first and foremost, a game. Don't go out of your way to make someone's game time miserable. We all pay to play. Let's have fun and enjoy it! In light of this, since this community is an extension of the game, we are not going to breed misery here. Therefore, any disparaging remarks about the game content, lore, questlines, storylines, or Blizzard choices needs to be kept out of public channels.

Grandstanding will not be tolerated. Broadcasting that you will quit, in the public channels of this discord, because Blizzard made a choice you disagree with will result in a ban. This also pertains broadcasted pity parties that hint or imply that you might as well quit because something is or isn't happening, etc. You will not be shown attention or sympathy. You will be shown the door. No one here pays extra for guilt trips.

Any image created by an AI generator must be explicitly labeled at an "AI Generated Image". Additionally, these images should not be posted in the art channels as it does not qualify as such. If you wish to use such images as a representation of your character, you may do so only in your Character Profile, with the label given above.

[susan-gampre]

Weds Ask:

Only a divine mind can run a business such as yours. How did you decide that this was a pathway you desired to take through life?

Haunted eyes watched the meandering of individuals at the heart of the brothel, the scantly clad and the casually clothed mingled together in a harmonious fashion. The air amongst them was light and unburdened, drinks flowing and meals being shared in small or large fashion. The bar was bustling, waitresses and waiters managed through the crowds -- Grins, laughter, rowdy chatter was everywhere in every direction. The smoke lounge, tucked away in a corner with stairs leading down to the basement had tendrils of purplish smoke twisting outward from behind the crystal curtains of the open doorway...

People danced in roguish, inappropriate fashion while others waltzed together slowly, multiple eyes around the area sharing in loving, hungry or passionate stares -- The music rounding out the night was softer in tune, the chosen live entertainment a violinist. A whore under Susan's regime, actually; A young maiden of fulgent smiles, her tall lithe figure swaying to and fro as her fingers jumped between strings in fluid motion.

She held the Madam's gaze momentarily, the young matching the burdened stare of the wizened. Eventually Esme would turn, resuming her performance.

To Susan, the mood this evening felt much more melancholy than usual... A heaviness to it. Others clearly had a peppier tone to their nights, but the Madam seemed weighed.

"So... How did you decide this was the life path you wanted?"

Susan glances over her shoulder briefly before looking forward to take in the magnificence of the building and it's patrons. The years began to play before her eyes, all the events that occurred within these sturdy walls. All the wars, the love... The hours and sweat poured into maintaining the business, the blood spilled to protect it... She'd shake her head briefly, brown curls shimmering in the dance light, "I didn't choose this," she says firmly. Her hands would reach forward to grip the tops of the banister, clutching at the wood to steady herself as she then adds, "It was chosen for me."

Momentarily she was reminded that her history would no longer be truly known by all -- her inactivity of pushing parties and mingling with the socialites had put her out of the eye of society. Partially... She felt the relief of it, but another part of that loss of infamy sent a pang through her chest. The realization was that the assault on her innocence would be for not if it were forgotten...

"This business was... A family business, of sorts," she concedes, turning around to lean her elbows atop the banister now, her eyes taking in the inquirer with a careful glance over before continuing, "The kind where if I didn't take it upon myself and make some dire changes to the structure and vision, it would be the same old bitches taking advantage of the exploitable. This business I wouldn't trust anyone else to take on, too many lives were lost when I was brought up with people being indentured to corrupt, greedy whores. My mother, to clarify. It's as simple as that."

Thank you! @nahisummerhold

Briefly mentioned: @esme-erynn

[the-dragon-mom]

A Lun'alai Touch.

Over the course of many days and several nights, this strange trollish woman had been visiting the village. Some days to bring various trinkets and what seemed to be broken pottery to store next to a tent that appeared a little too large for her. Several nights she would be seen basking under the moonlight when her much larger companion was away. Throughout most of the days, any of the village members could find this feathered Lun'alai woman dancing along the tips of her toes marking out a spot next to the tent, even slightly around it and its little fire pit. Dragging a slight avian clawed nail along the ground mapping out what her mind sees. 

Lines here and there, pauses to swipe her foot back and forth to erase a line because she didn't like where it was. Often seen with her elbows tucked into herself and hands pulled close to hold back the many necklaces that served as a top so she could see her work. Occasionally having to remark due to the tail feathers sweeping  away her guide lines. When she was satisfied with her handy work, Zilvera quickly went to work. 

Over a course of a few more days and nights, Zilvera would come by the location as a massive raptor and set bags of soil she obtained a few ways off to start building some spots that needed to be raised up. Using the pottery and various sticks she obtained to create the remaining wall. Even using some of the more intact pottery to embed into the soil of the raised beds. Filling to top them off with soil. Finding a few decent sized rocks, the trollish woman lined the inner part of the garden that led to the campfire and tent. 

To the left of the tent some twisted, healthy vines began to grow into a couple of small trees.  It provided some shade to the raised and lower beds to the left of the tent and a nice little area for the Lun'alai to snooze in. A quite comfortable little spot. Finding a few more decent sized rocks, she would be seen rolling them over to the tent to secure the left side some more. Looking around the village, she looks for any discarded wood to fashion a table on top of those rocks. With some daily looking she would finally secure the perfect piece. 

Grinning and even giggling to herself, Zilvera fashioned up a workstation. Setting up her porcelain made and stone made mortar and pestles, along with various other tools one would assume was for medicine creation. Jars of viscous liquids and dried goods began to line under the table in the shade in a very specific order over time. As if Zilvera was bringing her supplies from one camp to here. Along one of the branches that she had grown over her work table, several dried herbs hung in a specific order. Along other branches, other bundles of various drying stages of herbs hung in quite a fragrant display. Additionally, Zilvera found a roughly carved moonstone bowl. Using some druidcraft to secure it to the table towards the middle back with vine growth with Moon flowers growing along it. She would carefully take the bottle of water she gathered from a moonwell in Ashvale to pour into the biason of the bowl. A connection to her Loa privately on her work station.

Quite happy with this little display. Her focus returned to the tilled soil. By now, that a few days had passed, the soil should have settled. Taking the opportunity now to plant the seeds of many various herbs and flowers used to create the medicine and salves. Of course it was not all of them she used, but most of the common ones that could survive the climate and careful shade planning. With being a druid there was a bit of extra tending to keep some of the more heat intolerant plants alive, though that was not her priority as of now. A later priority. 

Using a tiny bit of druid crafting, she would encourage the seeds to sprout to little seedlings. Just enough to pop their little leaves from the top soil. Clapping her hands happily, she went off to the right-side of the tent and for the first time in a long time, those around to see the display would see Zilver become flat footed. A weird look crossed her face when she did this. A look of … discomfort? Going from avian clawed nail to heel and measuring several feet away from the tent to mark off a small wobby circle to dig out. 

Back to her tip toe self, Zilvera took several deep breaths. “Oke… dis one can do dis… dis one practice… dis one can do et. Matron please help dis one…” Her words carried on quietly with closed eyes. Falling forward on her hands, a man of fur and feathers grew as her body did. Opening one eye before the other with excitement at her new ability. A sight to be seen as a feathered fur bear moved to its hind legs and clapped their front paws. The excitement and utilizing that energy she began to dig out the oblong circle in hopes passing rain will start to fill it.  

Staying in the bear form for long periods of time wore her out as it was still new. Though she could not wait to show her Drakkari family. Content with her project with a satisfied look. The Lun'alai Troll started to collect more wood for the fire pit and lined it up on the right side of the tent between the pond in the making and the tent itself. 

Hands on her hips, she was content with everything she had done in the last several days. Tail feathers swaying back and forth with several nods to herself. “Ja, dis good. Hehe.” Clapping her hands together she went to work making her next topical salve to alleviate discomfort and pain around types of scaring. 

[manamaddened]

manamaddened

a tumblr rp blog for the WoW oc Daenera Morrowseeker .

info here: https://todayandtomorrow.carrd.co/

[ writer is 21+, they/them, autistic and anxious so have patience pls ]

[the-silver-circle]

[January 2024]

PREMISE

(& a link to the website recap thread!)

The Dreamweavers invite the Silver Circle to accompany them to Amirdrassil on the neighboring Dragon Isles, and lend their assistance in the construction of Bel’ameth. The peaceful forest offers the promise of a peaceful repose for the night elf people, but not all is quite as it seems.

[thecloudcitymarket]

CCM - May 10th, 2023

Below are the list of vendors this week!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Sunrise Lattes - Caythaes Mekandawn MENU

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

Glamrock Fashions - Jazzy S. Glamrock of the Cast Company Collective MENU

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

Constellation Canvas - Celeste Runewhisper MENU

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

The Azure Star - Saeni Silverbell MENU

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────  

[ooc-miqojak]

DWC 2: Opportunity/Eternity

She couldn't tell you when the realization had settled over her, like a yoke about her shoulders - her people were a long-lived race, yes, but... with what had been done to her, it was eternity she was facing, now.

Lilliana had really only just come into her own as an adult, before this ocurred, and was now cursed to not only change, with time... but to have nothing but time, in the end. She would have longer with people than if they were human, but... in the end, she would outlast them all - and what kind of life is that? An eternity of being looked at askance - with worry, or trepidation, because of what demons had done to others. She would outlive even her own child.

What was there to do, but accept it? The young woman had railed against it again, and again, but there were no answers. No one had been able to help her. No one knew how to undo what had been done to her soul, because it wasn't the sort of thing that was done. Tampering with souls wasn't the sort of thing the average Kirin Tor sorcerer would have experience with. That was the prerogative of darker arts, and more often than not, those who practiced as much would be more inclined to keep her as she was, or make it worse, rather than assist her in un-doing what had been done.

She had tried to see it as an opportunity, instead - but it was like a thin veneer behind which Lily knew the truth: she didn't want 'forever'. A good, long time, yes - but eternity was not something she'd ever asked for.

The weight of it all was maddening - the fel corruption, the invasive thoughts, the hunger, the changes... and the knowledge that it would all would last forever. It would corrode and erode at who she really was, and who wanted eternity as something they didn't choose to be?

@daily-writing-challenge

[chillidari]

Hey, hey! Long time no see~ Been to the After Dark show yesterday? Liked what you saw?

[celassa]

Priestess Celassa by Firbess

[camliristarfallen]

[regaeljas]

Ghosts in the Dark

Bronze scales streaked across the upper reaches of the Azj-Kahet caverns. A glittering figure passed rapidly through the deep dark, weaving between the massive silken webs of the upper spires. The denizens of this dark and eerie world took notice of the rapidly passing figure, and many of them took no action. They scuttled about their business, concerned but assured that the Queen they served would deal with any unwanted intruders.

A swarm of shadowed creatures emerged from around a great stalactite and swarmed the Dracthyr. Natharas evaded a couple of them before crashing deliberately into two. They speared one with their halberd while attempting to drive the talon of their left wing through a second, sending the three figures into a freefall. Natharas cast one off of his halberd and then used the axe-blade to attempt to pry the second from his wing talon. As the twisted flying beast wrenched free of the wing talon, Natharas spread out both wings, catching themselves in the air and stabilizing into a glide. As soon as they arrested their fall, six more of the spider-like flying creatures crashed into the Dracthyr, sending them tumbling once more.

Natharas coiled their tail, wings, and limbs inward as the beasts swarmed them. The teeth and claws of the creatures tore at scales and pulled at armor plates, but as they fell, suddenly, Natharas uncoiled violently with their left side, sending the cluster into a horrible spin that flung most of the beasts from them with little chance of recovering. Natharas then uncoiled the right wing and pulled in the left, attempting to quickly stabilize the terminal spin. Nath’s wings caught, suddenly arresting their fall again, and they surged upward with several grasping flaps from their wings.

Natharas released their grip on the halberd which caught in the beasts’ chitin and drew a crescent-bladed axe looped on its belt. Natharas, feeling their breastplate begin to buckle beneath the beast’s roaming talons, swung the axe into the face of the beast, striking a series of eyes and being splattered by horrible gore. The beast screamed in fury and agony and raised a talon to block the next strike while Natharas extended their wings and let the sudden shift of momentum pull it free of the beast’s grasp.

Natharas jerked away from the beast and twisted their body, forcing its wings to surge away from the beast as they drew a short javelin the length of their thigh and tossed it with a practiced ease at the beast. Natharas turned away without even watching to see where the javelin struck and began to sail away from the beast as the monstrous creature began to pursue the much smaller Dracthyr. The dart sailed into one of the beast’s many legs, piercing it and almost tearing the limb away completely. The creature roared its hatred and frustration, but continued onward.

Natharas caught sight of yet more approaching winged swarmers and swallowed air, attempting to still their rising fear. This had escalated faster than they could have imagined. Natharas drew another javelin and tossed it at one of the lead swarmers, managing to pierce the beast and the creature behind it. Both swarmers fell from the terminal height, never to rise again. Natharas drew another and tossed it, barely missing the next swarmer in their haste. Then again. The last javelin struck a swarmer in its webbing, shredding it and sending the creature falling from the cavern’s upper air.

Natharas reached for another javelin, but felt a torn leather strap where it should have been. They must have lost it during one of the many spins. Natharas raised the axe as they collided with the remainder of the swarmers, lashing out with axe, talon, and wing as they fell for a few feet before dispatching the bulk of the swarmers with their sudden onslaught and regaining control of their momentum right before impacting with the ground. Natharas dare not rise higher, or they would lose speed and they could not be very far ahead of the beast. They listened as they avoided stalagmites, fungal growths, and uneven terrain. They heard the beast’s wings growing closer and closer.

Suddenly, a battlecry sounded as something screamed behind and above Natharas. Nath heard the clang of metal on chitin, and then the sound of something hitting the stone floor–hard.

Natharas, however, was fixated on the figure descending next to the corpse. Natharas knew this one.

A dark blue Dracthyr with white soft scales and horns descended toward the creature below. Natharas slowed their own descent and landed near the blue Dracthyr as her claws touched the stone. The pair locked eyes and Natharas rushed to them.

“I am happy to see you are still alive,” Natharas said in a soft tone, “It has been so long, that I was not sure.”

Something in Aumigosa’s eyes belied a frustration with Natharas. Natharas was not sure why she would be frustrated with them.

“It is good to see you are alive, too,” she said, her tone sounding strained. As their crests touched, Natharas felt her scales soften and her aspect shifted. She was no longer Dracthyr, but now a horned human woman with black skin and blue hair. Her horns remained the same, but she had turned to her visage. Her face was even more confusing now, for she seemed to be holding back tears.

“I am sorry,” Natharas said, furrowing their brow as they released the back of her neck and tried to pull their crown away from her own. Aumigosa did not release the embrace, and instead closed her eyes to push away the tears. Natharas’ eyes spoke of their confusion, which was clearly turning to frustration, “I hope that I have not troubled you too greatly today. I am not sure what I have done.”

Aumigosa did not respond for a moment, and for Natharas the moment seemed to stretch on, compounding their frustration. Eventually she spoke, right as Nath opened their own mouth to speak.

A small airship with a pair of gnomes hanging from either side of it floated up to them at breakneck speed. One of the gnomes bore a rifle that it was using to pelt shots into a chasing skyrazor. The other gnome was steering the vessel as it shot through the air propelled by massive engines mounted to its rear.

Natharas stole a glance over their shoulder as they shot through the air away from the coming skyrazors. Nath could tell the ship had been battling with skyrazors while they’d been tangled with the one that had been killed. Nath glanced at Aumigosa, their eyes searching hers for some sort of explanation for her companions. She shifted her expression to convey that they should be trusted.

Natharas eyed ahead the twisted mouth of the cavern system that led from Hallowfall to this dark and horrible place. Natharas could see the wreck of a giant airship framed by rays of Beledar’s light, reflected down into the darkness of Azj-Kahet. Natharas could see the spore mines floating in the mouth of the cavern that led upward toward Hallowfall like hungry teeth in the mouth of a dragon.

Natharas turned to Aumigosa and pointed to the spore mines. Nath made a few hand signals, the communication of their weryn in flight. Aumigosa put her hand to the tip of her snout, an acknowledgement. She fluttered closer to the gnome with the rifle and shouted to them. The air snatched away any hope Natharas had of hearing her words, but the gnome nodded then quickly spoke with the airship pilot and the ship quickly adjusted course for the sporemines.

Natharas and Aumigosa dropped into a steep descent to follow. The group picked up speed as they traced a downward path toward the lower spore mines and the wrecked airship. Natharas and Aumigosa began to slow and drop lower than the airship as the swarmlings and the skyrazors swarmed down toward them on both sides. After the airship passed over some of the spore mines, Natharas and Aumigosa passed through them and cut the threads binding them to the floor of the cavern. The mines, held taut by silken webs above them, surged upward as the razorwire holding them in place gave way and plummeted into a cluster of swarmlings.

The mine detonated among them, instantly coating a dozen in webbing and sending them flying helplessly through the air like organic missiles. The swarmlings pelted one of the skyrazors that had almost caught up to them, shattering swarmlings and cracking parts of the skyrazor’s chitin. The skyrazor plummeted to the cavern floor where it impaled upon one of the protruding stalagmites.

The second skyrazor pressed onward as the pair of Dracthyr and the airship made a desperate scramble to gain altitude before smashing into the oncoming ground. They rose, alighting from the near-on collision with the surface, when suddenly Aumigosa wheeled left and fell from the air. Two more silken spears shot upwards from a cluster of three Nerubian webcasters clustered at the base of a hill anchoring the ruins to the cavern.

Natharas dove downward, with enough presence of mind to check the gnomish airship. The gnomes pressed onward and upward, the rifleman firing shot after shot into the swarmlings still giving chase as silken spears protruded from the underside of the ship. Natharas watched, for only a moment, before turning their gaze back to the form of Aumigosa on the cavern floor. Natharas descended to her as she stirred, rose to her feet, and pulled the silken spear from her shoulder. Natharas landed next to her and raised their halberd, bracing against the coming beast as the skyrazor fell upon them a moment later.

As the beast dove into Natharas, who’d positioned themself between Aumigosa and the skyrazor, Natharas’ halberd drove into the beast’s chest cavity, shattering under the strain. Natharas immediately let go of the halberd and drew the crescent axe, flaring their wings out to flutter backwards from the creature’s embrace before it could bind Natharas as the one before had. Natharas drove the axe downward on a slashing talon while beams of arcane power soared over Natharas’ shoulder into the creature. The creature stumbled backward, reeling from losing two talons on its left hand as its chitinous shell crumbled beneath Aumigosa’s barrage.

Natharas detached the shield from their back and took it up in their free hand, striking the shield with their axe to goad the beast onward. As they did, something struck Aumigosa from the distance as more silken spears rained down on the pair of Dracthyr. Natharas shifted closer to Aumigosa who was now crouched on the ground.

“Shifting!” Natharas called to her in draconic, the words more automatic than intended, as they moved, shield raised, between Aumigosa and the Nerubian webcasters.

“It's out,” she called back in draconic through strained words. After a pause, she groaned, “It's bad. You should go!”

“I’m not leaving!” Natharas growled as a trio of silken spears shattered against the ornate draconic shield they bore. Then, as the skyrazor roared, Natharas shouted, “Too late!”

The skyrazor surged forward and Natharas rolled out of the creature’s path. The creature missed Aumigosa, who suddenly fluttered upward with a powerful shove of her wings. Another trio of silken spears thudded into the skyrazor, one of the spears impaling the beast where Aumigosa’s arcane magic had shattered the chitin. Natharas quickly shuffled, moving so the skyrazor stood between them and the Nerubians. Aumigosa landed hard as her wings gave out and shuffled to her feet to stumble to a small opening in the cavern floor where it dropped a few feet into darkness below.

Natharas watched the beast, feeling the icy chill of fear creep into themself as the danger to Aumigosa no longer clouded their own reaction to the hulking beast before them. Natharas rested the axehead on the top of their shield and took a deep breath, steadying their pounding heartbeat. Natharas felt the sluggish ice of fear drain from their veins and replaced it with hatred.

The creature roared and surged forward again. Natharas crouched down, folded their wings in on themself, and braced for the skyrazor’s descent. The creature wrapped itself around them as it crashed into their shield. As soon as they impacted against their shield, Natharas pulled back their axe and started swinging into the chest of the creature where their halberd had embedded itself, striking over and over again. The beast shuddered as the axe tore through the broken chitin, cutting a massive hole. Natharas then reached into the hole and struck at the organs that resembled vital organs.

The creature gurgled and shuddered again, this time seizing as the axe tore deep into its organs, and then the creature stopped screaming and continued to twitch for several minutes. Natharas continued to swing until all within was a vicious mess. When they were satisfied the creature was dead, Natharas returned their shield to their back, placed the axe back on their belt, and then recovered the halberd.

Natharas emerged from beneath the creature, awkwardly crawling out from under the corpse of the beast. They scanned the location where the Nerubian webcasters had previously attacked from, but they were no longer there. Natharas then ran to the ledge they’d seen Aumigosa descended and looked around.

“Aumi?” Natharas called into the darkness. Natharas cocked their head to the side, listening, as they scanned the skies above them. There was no evidence of her departure, nor could Natharas see the gnomish airship. Natharas blinked, confused, and then extended their wings and surged upward, soaring home toward Mereldar.

[cultivators-loss]

Mo Ran

the basics ––– –

NAME: Mo Ran

AGE: Mid-20s (Elven Years)

BIRTHDAY: April 9

RACE: Quel'dorei (Alliance-MG, Horde-WrA)

GENDER: Male

SEXUALITY: Bisexual (male leaning)

MARITAL STATUS: Single

physical appearance ––– –

HAIR: Long, Black

EYES: The left eye is black with hints of purple while the right is red which is mostly covered with an eyepatch.

HEIGHT: 6′4

BUILD: Toned, slim

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Scar on his right eye is covered using a magical illusion and a beauty mark on the bottom left side of his lip.

COMMON ACCESSORIES: Black leather eyepatch over his right eye if you're capable of catching him with his true visage.

personal ––– –

PROFESSION: Hired killer

HOBBIES: Having hobbies is a sort of foreign concept to him, but he knows he enjoys sweets and can't handle spices too well

LANGUAGES: Thalassian, Orcish, Common, and Dwarvish

RESIDENCE: Drifter

BIRTHPLACE: Unknown

FEARS: Losing whatever sanity he has left, losing his "family"

relationships ––– -

SPOUSE: None

Children: None

PARENTS: Adopted by his Benefactor

SIBLINGS: Has 5 other siblings from his birth parents but knows none of them

OTHER RELATIVES: [ Open to pre-established relationships ]

ACQUAINTANCES/FRIENDS: [ Open to pre-established relationships ]

PETS: None

traits ––– -

extroverted / introverted / in between.

disorganized / organized / in between.

close minded / open-minded / in between.

calm / anxious / in between.

disagreeable / agreeable / in between.

cautious / reckless / in between.

patient / impatient / in between.

outspoken / reserved / in between.

leader / follower / in between.

empathetic / unemphatic / in between.

optimistic / pessimistic / in between.

traditional / modern / in between.

hard-working / lazy / in between.

cultured / un-cultured / in between.

loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between.

faithful / unfaithful / unknown / in between.

additional information ––– –

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

[the-dragon-mom]

Gifts from the Frostfire Settlement

Keara Silentfang, the Frostwolf Huntress leads her pack of wolves quite efficiently. Riding on a decently large wolf with dusty white fur and a slight hue of spiritual magic. Hanging from the wolf neck was a medallion with the very similar insignia of the Frostwolves. A quiver of arrow hung on the saddle strap as well as one at her lower back for quick loading of her arrows. While traveling the roads and trails leading from Winterspring south,  Keara kept her bow in her lap. 

Behind the two was a young adult Icehoof, it's wooly fibers already picked and sheared down for the trip to the Blacktusk Clan's Village. Said Icehoof was pulling a rather enormous wagon lined with crates under piles of dense hard evergreen wood. Some of the wood was kept in shape to be used as poles, others cut in boards by a fellow member of the Frostfire Settlement. The easiest of things to see at a glance with this small convoy. 

Ahead of the Frostwolf was a larger black furred wolf with a similar medallion, her form much larger than the wolf Keara rode. Her ears listened while they traveled the paths south. Occasionally letting out a small snarl to inform one of the two flanking wolves to check something out that may be deemed concerning. These two dusty brown wolves flanked the wagon and would wander off to check a noise or follow a scent but often returned quickly without much issue. Following behind was another of the pack, more grey in fur color keeping an eye on the wagon from behind. Much further back was the last wolf of the small roaming pack. His fur is in shades of dark grey and black with a little white around the muzzle. He took up the rear some distance away.  

It was quite the sight to see coming into view from the village. It of course took a few days' travel, but the small convoy looked quite rested. Keara let out a sharp whistle, one to allert the village on her arrival and the other meaning for all the wolves, minus the one she rode on, to scout around. To find common ground and not impede where they may seem as a threat. 

Meeting some at the edge of the Village, Keara's attention perked seeing the familiar orc that introduced her to this particular clan. Telling her a good flat spot to unload the wagon the Icehoof had been hauling. 

“This is a lot.” Keara chuckled and shook her head to the aid that came to help unload. “This is just a bored day for the Mok'Nathal in the settlement.” She informed the aid. Sliding off the saddle of her companion, strapping the bow and spare quiver to him. She patted his hind quarter to  walk off and sit to watch Keara. Eyes trained on her the entire time she unloaded the decent size piles of wood. 

“We halted much of our building in the settlement, so some of this is seasoned already, some fresh. Ruko … got a little carried away this season.” Keara explained to whoever was helping unload. After the wood was removed there were three rolls of hide about the same width of the wagon. 

“This is stitched together, treated hide, easily unstitched for whatever you need it for. It is Icehoof Hide.” She explained casually. 

 Then they got to the crates. Two rows on top of one another. 

“Icehoof wool, unprocessed. Harden Leather, soft leather - some scraps from the Icehoves, others from bear, deer, rabbits, and boar. Some boar hide t-r-e-a-ts for the wolf den here. “ Keara carefully spelled it out because if she spoke the word, the wolf watching her might slip his guard dog duty. Moving to another couple of crates she opened it up. 

“Pelts - Deer, bear, rabbit.” There were a lot of rabbit pelts. “Ruko raises meat rabbits, gives her something to do…” Going to the last couple, after telling who was helping to leave three in the wagon. Those were specifically for Wolv as an appreciation gift. 

The last couple that were pulled off had an small pebble of a frost Elemental hanging out in one of them. It looked up with the tiniest of waves while Keara nodded to it. “Thank you for the aid, you may go home to Mags now.” The little element… squeeked?... before darting off towards the north. 

“Weird little things, this is some meat from the last icehoof bull we slaughtered, these ones are froze , this crate is salt preserved, and the last dried into Jerky rations.” Sweating some, she definitely was dressed lighter than normal but it was still very hot for the Frostwolf. 

“Do you have a temporary paddock I can lead this Icehoof to? Then I can properly introduce myself.”