#zalin shadowsunder

[curiouslich]

Literature Aesthetics: Zalin

STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE

ᴄᴏʙʙʟᴇsᴛᴏɴᴇ sᴛʀᴇᴇᴛs / ʟᴀᴍᴘs sʜɪɴɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏɢ / ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ ᴏғ ᴀ ғɪʀᴇᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ / ᴜɴᴏᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ʙᴏᴛᴛʟᴇs ᴏғ ᴡɪɴᴇ / ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇɴsɪᴏɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢs sᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴛʀᴜʟʏ ᴀʀᴇ / ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴛʜʀɪʟʟ ᴏғ ғʀᴇᴇᴅᴏᴍ / ᴘᴀɴɪᴄ ᴏғ ʟᴏsɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ / ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴠᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ / ɢᴜɪʟᴛʏ ᴠɪᴄᴇs / ᴛᴏᴘ ʜᴀᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ sᴛɪᴄᴋs / sᴇʟғ-ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ / ᴏʟᴅ ᴅᴏᴄᴜᴍᴇɴᴛs ᴛᴜᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ɪɴ sᴀғᴇs.

FRANKENSTEIN, OR THE MODERN PROMETHEUS

ʀᴀɪɴ ʜɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡᴘᴀɴᴇ / ᴄᴀɴᴅʟᴇs ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴡ / ᴍᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴ ʀᴀɴɢᴇs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ, sɴᴏᴡʏ ᴛᴏᴘs/ ғʀᴇɴᴢɪᴇᴅ ᴏʙsᴇssɪᴏɴ / ᴀ ᴄᴇᴍᴇᴛᴇʀʏ ᴀᴛ ᴅᴜsᴋ / sʟᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀʜᴏᴜsᴇs / ᴀʟʟ-ᴄᴏɴsᴜᴍɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪʀsᴛ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇᴠᴇɴɢᴇ / ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀɴᴇss ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴛʀᴇᴅ / ᴀ sᴇɴsᴇ ᴏғ ᴅᴜᴛʏ ᴡᴇɪɢʜɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀs / ɪɴᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴀʙʟᴇ ɢᴜɪʟᴛ / ᴛʜᴇ ғʀᴏᴢᴇɴ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴄᴛɪᴄ ᴄɪʀᴄʟᴇ/ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴏғ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇᴄᴋ / ʟɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ sᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ sᴋʏ.

THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY

ᴇʀᴏᴛɪᴄ ʟᴏɴɢɪɴɢ / ᴘᴀɪɴᴛ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴘᴀʟᴇᴛᴛᴇ / ɢ��ʟᴅᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀʟs ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴏsʏ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋs / ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇsᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴄʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ / ʙᴇᴇs ʟᴀᴢɪʟʏ ᴅʀɪғᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴀss / ʜᴇᴅᴏɴɪsᴍ / ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋɴᴇss ᴏғ ᴀ sᴏᴜʟ / ᴀ ᴅᴜsᴛʏ ᴀᴛᴛɪᴄ / ʜɪᴅɪɴɢ sᴇᴄʀᴇᴛs / ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ᴘᴏᴏʟɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴏᴏʀʙᴏᴀʀᴅs / ɢᴜᴛ-ᴡʀᴇɴᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜsʏ / ᴀ ᴅɪᴍʟʏ-ʟɪᴛ sᴛᴀɢᴇ / ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ.

THE PRIVATE MEMOIRS AND CONFESSIONS OF A JUSTIFIED SINNER

ᴄʟɪғғs ʀɪsɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴜᴅs / sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴍʙɪɢᴜᴏᴜsʟʏ sᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʟᴜʀᴋɪɴɢ / ᴇᴅɪɴʙᴜʀɢʜ’s ᴡɪɴᴅɪɴɢ sᴛʀᴇᴇᴛs / ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏᴜs ᴢᴇᴀʟᴏᴛʀʏ / ᴄᴀʀᴇғᴜʟ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ / ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʀɪᴠᴀʟʀʏ / ᴀ ʙɪʙʟᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴅɪsᴛɪɴɢᴜɪsʜᴀʙʟᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ / ᴀ ғᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ’s ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴄʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ sʜɪғᴛɪɴɢ / sᴄᴏᴛᴛɪsʜ ʟᴀɪʀᴅs / sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴɪᴄ ᴍᴀsǫᴜᴇʀᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴀs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴘᴜʀᴇ.

DRACULA

ʟᴇᴛᴛᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪᴀʀɪᴇs / sᴜɪᴛᴏʀs ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴀ ʟᴀᴅʏ / ᴄᴀsᴛʟᴇs ɴᴇsᴛʟᴇᴅ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ғᴏʀᴇsᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴs / ᴛᴇʀʀᴏʀ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ / ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴡʟɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴡᴏʟᴠᴇs / ᴀʀɪsᴛᴏᴄʀᴀᴛs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴏʟᴅᴇɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇs / ᴀ ᴄᴏɴsᴜᴍɪɴɢ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ / ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ʀɪsɪɴɢ / ʜᴏʀsᴇs’ ʜᴏᴏᴠᴇs ᴛʜᴜɴᴅᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴀ ᴘᴀᴛʜ / ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ sᴛᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ sɴᴏᴡ / ᴄʀᴜᴄɪғɪxᴇs ᴡᴀʀᴅɪɴɢ ᴏғғ ᴇᴠɪʟ.

WUTHERING HEIGHTS

ғᴏɢ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏʀs / ᴇᴍʙʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ɪs ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ / ᴀ ᴄʏᴄʟᴇ ᴏғ ᴀʙᴜsᴇ / ᴠɪᴄɪᴏᴜs, sɴᴀʀʟɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɢs / ᴀ ʜᴏᴜsᴇ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴜɪɴ / ᴀ ᴛʜᴏʀɴ ᴀᴍᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏsᴇs / ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʟᴏᴠᴇ / ɢʜᴏsᴛs / ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴡʟɪɴɢ ᴡɪɴᴅ / ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇɢᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ʀᴏᴛ / ᴡᴀsᴛɪɴɢ ᴀᴡᴀʏ / ᴀ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪғʏ.

Thank you @thanidiel

[theislesunfamily]

The Glass is Probably Half Full

“Remember this time last year, Ithanar?”

“When I was sitting in the bath and you were chastising me about… something?”

“About everything, yes…”

“As you damn well do, Hylaen.”

“No, I was reminiscing about you… not having anyone to send gifts to for Winter’s Veil this time-”

“Reminiscing? Really?”

“What?”

“It’s good that you have friends, Ithanar.”

“... You’re not wrong.”

Around the holidays, a series of gifts are sent to various individuals; some are affiliated with the Sunguard while a few aren’t. Each gift is wrapped meticulously in brown paper and no bow, simple and unremarkable, while containing a small letter. 

They are all signed by none other than Ithanar Islesun...

For Faervell Bael’nar ( @pyrar ) … 

A box of Winter’s Veil-themed chocolates, each one a different flavor (milk chocolate with caramel for example).

Faervell,

I am glad we have the friendship, the relationship, we have. It has meant a lot to me, more than I think I have let on. Sure, we have had our jokes here and there but to have a friend like you after being alone for so long? After keeping to myself for the most part for a decade? For someone who will laugh with me, joke with me, have a beer with me? It means the damn world.

P.S. This letter became very you know. But I mean every word. 

For Esme Sunshard ( @esmesunshard ) … 

A dozen bottles of the cheapest wine imaginable. The woman has her tastes.

Esme,

Sorry. About that one time. You know what I mean.

I count you as a friend, even if it does not always seem that way, someone I can trust with things even I do not mean to say them at first.

For Esheyn Flamethorn ( @kinari ) … 

A potted plant of many beautiful red blooms. Closer inspection or a knack for knowing flowers reveals these are geraniums.

Esheyn,

Thank you for letting my drunk ass sleep on your couch, and always showing me kindness even if there were times I may have not deserved it.

For Thanidiel Highdawn ( @thanidiel ) … 

An ornate dagger crafted by one of Silvermoon’s many forges; the handgrip is wrapped in hardy red cloth and gold lettering has been carved into the flat of the blade. 

If one knows Thalassian, it reads: ALL OR NONE

Thanidiel,

I had plans to write something lengthy, but we both know that’s not our style exactly. Know that I trust you to the fullest extent as a friend, a comrade, a fellow soldier and I appreciate the trust you have put in me. That, and you have given me more cigars than I can count. Here’s to another year.

For Bricini Lightwing ( @jessipalooza ) … 

A rather nice coffee mug with the words “PROPERTY OF BRICINI LIGHTWING” emblazoned on one side and “AZEROTH’S GREATEST MENDER” on the other side in red-and-gold lettering.

Bricini,

I know you will probably never use this because your flask is ingenious. Therefore maybe you should use it as a mantlepiece? Or maybe something to store your quills in on your desk at the Dawnspire? I am sure you will figure out something.

For each member of the Sunspear Battalion ( @thesunguardmg ) , including Knight-Commander Emberstar and the Sentinel Zalin Shadowsunder… 

An ornate wooden box which contains twelve cigars and a lighter with the Sunguard’s emblem emblazoned upon the surface.

Fellow Sunspear,

It has been a pleasure and honor getting to know most of you over the past year. Here is to many more battles, more training sessions, and defending Quel’thalas to the best of our ability.

And in a small note left for Aurelian Indaris ( @korkrunchcereal ) … 

  We do need to duel soon, don’t we?

For Sakialyn Emberstar ( @sakialyn ) … 

A small golden coin. Simple, but meaningful in a way.

Knight-Commander,

In case you ever decide to take up that bet you respectfully and understandably declined when I joined the Sunguard a year ago. You took a chance on me, so thank you. Old knights die hard but I plan to not to. Hope I have lived up to what I promised, what I took an oath to do.

For Zalin Shadowsunder ( @curiouslich )… 

A simple letter and a pouch containing Ithanar’s Winter Veil bonus.

Sentinel,

I appreciate and accept your invitation. Let us share a drink soon, whether that be in Voidheart or at the Isle. I am returning my holiday bonus not out of disrespect, but would rather see it put toward a better cause: improving our facilities. Use it in any fashion you choose for such an effort.

For Caeliri Dawnsworn ( @caeliri ) …

A pair of rose quartz and gold earrings. They are simple, but still rather pretty. 

Caeliri,

Glad we have spoken here and there, even if it has not exactly been often. I did not know what to think of you at first given our initial interaction was while you had your head split open courtesy of a certain fiery Illidari, but know that your work as a Dawnmender is appreciated.

For Iiloridan Sunshard ( @edaigoa ) … 

A box containing the same cookies Ithanar made for him months ago, shaped like little angelic wings. These seem a bit more professionally made.

Iiloridan,

I did not know you very well when we first met, and under rather ridiculous circumstances, but after a few months? I consider you a friend, someone I would trust with my life. That, and you are a Dawnmender so it is appropriate. Know that I can offer any assistance needed with hunting down the individual who took your eye. I have mentioned it before, but I do not mind giving a reminder here and there. Thank you. 

For Vaelrin Firestorm ( @vaelrin ) … 

A simple letter, a small bottle of damn fine whiskey, and a dozen cigars contained in an ornate wooden box.

Vaelrin,

Drinks and cigars soon? The elderly folk need to catch up. 

For Lirelle Dawnbrook and Arrenir Silversun ( @retributionpriest | @thepilgrimofwar ) … 

A full-color illustrated map of the Isle, a rather large island located off the northwestern coast of Quel’Thalas; both know this is where Ithanar hails from.

Lirelle and Arrenir,

It has been some time since we have spoken, so I hope the both of you are holding up alright. Let us do something soon? Once this whole war ends? If it does. I also owe you two a tour of the Isle, which we spoke about months ago over drinks.

For Avie Silverbrooke ( @thenaaru​ )  …

Jewelry in the form of a necklace of twisting gold marked by small rubies. It is an ornate design, something she would probably like, and appears to be something that would match well. Perhaps Ithanar has some taste.

Avie,

Trying to use words to describe our relationship is a difficult thing, but I am going to give it a try. You have proven to be someone whom I trust in battle and in other places.  I don’t need to go into detail for this, but I do hope you like the gift. At the end of the day, Avie, all I can say is thank you for being a damn good friend.

See you tomorrow night? Maybe? I am sure we’ll chat.

For Qeren Bloodmantle ( @entropytea ) … 

A seemingly ordinary shawl of dark green, perfect for wearing in cold winter weather. However, upon closer look, the shawl carries a small symbol near the bottom: a falcon trapped with a circle, the sigil of House Islesun.

Qeren,

Just as you gave me a way to speak with you at any time, this shawl will give you a way you to travel to the Isle if you want to. Otherwise, it’s rather warm and cozy. Miss you and hope you are doing- I had a word here, but I do not know which to use. Just keep safe for me. Please.

For Emirenne Sunspite ( @snarksonomy | @sunspite ) …  

A brooch of gold surrounding a mulberry red jewel, something that could be pinned on something like… a Winter’s Veil sweater?  

Emirenne,

Thank you for the noodles, the Winter’s Veil sweater (everyone loved it), and your general kindness which came out of an unlikely scenario. I hope we get to see each other more in the new year and if you do want to go adventuring some time soon? There are definitely a few jobs and places in mind. Let me know and hope your children are well. 

For Sare’wen ( @airiannagrace ) ...

A shawl of periwinkle blue, perfect for cold weather, along with a simple letter. 

Sare’wen,

I owe you a picnic since you provided last time, so consider that my Winter’s Veil gift. I also need to give you back the thing you gave me, entrusted me with, for it is safer in your hands now that this fight may be coming to a close. I trust in your control, in your not losing yourself. 

Thank you for your friendship.

Finally, one last gift; it is for Elleynah Stormsummer ( @stormandozone ) … 

A framed picture, taken by a Goblin-crafted camera. The picture is of Ithanar and Elleynah relaxing against a bench, his arm around her shoulder, smiles on both of their faces as the sun shines brightly overhead.

Elleynah,

I have been meaning to give you this for a while, a picture we took some months ago. I had it framed and then let it sit on my desk here at home for a while, but it’s in better hands with you. It has been a long year, but you have made it worth it. You welcomed and accepted me moreso than really a lot have over the past decade.

I know there seems to be no end in sight to any of this, to the war, but keep hope? That would not be the word I might use, but keep faith. Something to that degree. I love you like a daughter and will always be there for you through thick and thin.

Just as you have been for me.

[sonofkhaz]

A Thank You Note

[Sentinel, please be advised that I am writing this on Muroco’s behalf, since he has told me that he doesn’t know how to write or speak in Thalassian. He was kind enough to pay me, but he is staring at me expectantly as I write this. Considering the fact that he seems like the type of tauren that can bend my spine into a pretzel, I assure you that everything else written here is from his mouth, and I have no intention of fabricating falsehoods.]

Sentinel,

Thanks for the kodo steak. It was really good. People might think it’s degrading to give one of your soldiers a slab of meat for their work, but what do they know? Blood Elf food - uh, no offense - has a hard time fulfilling my physical needs.

Anyway, someone told me it’s customary to give a gift back. Assuming the courier isn’t a little weasel and ran off with it [he’s referring to me], there should be a dream-catcher attached to this letter. When I was very young, my mother taught me how to make them. Considering that killing things is all I’m really good at, this is the only thing I know how to make. I made it from an oak branch I found in the forest, and I bought the beads from a tailor, but the black feathers are from a wind serpent. Have you ever seen a wind serpent? They’re like snakes but six feet tall and have wings. Some tauren tribes consider them to be a bad omen, but they’re considered sacred by the Grimtotems. Whether or not that’s true is debatable, but it’s always entertaining to see them electrocute STUPID HUMANS [he insisted that I capitalize every letter] that don’t know better.

I’m not very good with words. Fighting is a lot easier and, somehow, requires less effort in a way. But you have been like a brother, and for that, I am grateful.

Never Give Up,

Muroco Rockhoof

@curiouslich

[jessipalooza]

Archon Telchis Truefeather,

I write to you as one of you skilled Dawnmenders. My name is Bricini Lightwing, Doctor and Lightward. I report to the Oracle, Sunward Elleynah Stormsummer. I write to you in regards to your talented Sunward, Zalin Shadowsunder, the Sentinel.

Allow me to briefly explain and add context to this request. I am in the process of a medical breakthrough. One that can help soldiers above all, I believe. I have found a way to organically regrow limbs. This includes organs as well. I will not bore you with the details, but it is very much a reality. Most recently, I have managed to regrow Emberward Thanidiel Highdawn's eye, lost to rot and disease many years past. However, the vision in the eye is blurry and poor - a result of her continuous sparring and battle during a time when the eye should have been growing.

I was approached recently by Sunward Shadowsunder. As I am sure you are aware, he lost his arm in the line of battle. He wants it back. I can give it back. However, it will be difficult to give him an arm that will be capable of raising a sword or shield if there is not a suficient amount of time or precaution to allow it to grow properly.

The Sentinel has already expressed his sincere want for the arm, but his reluctance to stop fighting...lest I get a signed letter from you requesting that he halt behavior that may otherwise stunt the growth of this new arm.

I am writing to you with a request to speak to your Sunward. I believe that I can get him an arm that will be as good as the very one he was born with, and he will be an even better fighter for it. But he will listen to you far more than he will listen to a Doctor.

Please do not hesitate to contact me with any questions on this matter. I am at your service, Archon.

Lightward and Doctor

@felthier | @curiouslich | @thanidiel

[thenaaru]

SW: Day 5

5th: Write a letter or a poem to someone who is estranged or distanced from you in some fashion. This can be from your character to that person, or your character musing on a person of interest.

Avie sat at her desk, frowning deeply. Why was she writing this? She held no love for him. Her usual flowing script was wobbly, and ink blots covered the page in places where she had scribbled out words or hesitated.

“Father Caemenas,

I hope this finds you well. Actually, I’m not sure I care how it finds you. This letter is one of formality only, so that your precious reputation can be seen to be upheld by your nuisance daughter. The rumors you will no doubt of heard are true - yes, there is an illidari under my roof, no, I do not know where my husband is and nor do I have energy enough to find out.

I suppose I should inform you that within a few months I will graduate to spellbreaker and be above your station - so anything you wish to order me to do, do so prior to my leaving your command proper. Should you take further issue with my enrollment, take it up with my commanding officer and tutor, The Sentinel, Lord Zalin Shadowsunder. If you are perhaps so desperate to have me back within your control do take it further, I am sure the Archon has nothing better to do with his time than answer your sniveling letters.

I hear from Avari that you have returned to the isle. Good, may you stay there until such a time that I must return to take your mantle. If you have one good bone in your body - tend to mother. She will get lonely on that hill and though you may not have ever loved me, I do believe that you loved her and that that is the only reason that I am here today and not in an infant sized box.

If there is such an emergency that I must be contacted immediately, you may send word for me on Stormheim where I am escorting Kalyanar Brightquill on his way. Though, trust, there are few reasons considered great enough that I would ever return to your foul hand. The day you struck me a’fore my men was the last day you will ever raise a hand, or weapon, to me. I assure you of that.

Your daughter,

Lady Avie Sin’thorel.

@edaigoa @curiouslich @felthier for brief mentions.

@sparklepriest

[hierophant-x]

SW: 2 “Gone”

2nd: What is/was your character’s relationship with their parents? How do they express their feelings towards one another – or, if their parents are deceased, do they carry on their legacy in some fashion? @sparklepriest

Feyhestra stood at the head path leading to the Mourner’s Grove, a place that held a deep spiritual significance to all of those that lived within the Dawning Glade. The rangers quiet steps made barely any sound as she walked, her head bowed and her eye half closed. She passed through the gate that marked where the imperfect world that she lived in ended, and the serene detachment from life that the temple offered began.

Dozens of families had personal shrines in and around the Mourner’s Grove, those that were wealthier kept a spot in the temple, and others had small wayshrines in secluded locations, hidden away from outsiders. But the ruling family, the Dawnmourns, had a shrine within the heart of the temple. Feyhestra had walked through the halls of the temple countless times, praying for protection, success, healing, this time was different. She made the pilgrimage to the temple to put her mind to rest.

Months ago she was called to travel into the depths of Helheim. Sent to find a lost relative of Zalin Shadowsunder, but instead was met with a deceptive spirit. She took the form of the ranger’s mother, and offered to come back, though at a price. Feyhestra knew it was a trick, she had seen her mother’s crumpled body at the base of one of the protective wards within the Dawning Glade. She knew her mother gave her life to keep the wards up against the endless waves of the Lich King’s undead army. She was there as she was enshrined at the temple. She knew that her mother was gone. But to see her again… it tore at her heart.

Feyhestra pushed open the door to the inner sanctuary of the ancestral temple, and before her laid the names of those in the Dawnmourn bloodline. Each name was inscribed on a small plaque and given its own space below for offerings, incense or candles. Enmara Dawnmourn’s shrine was barren save for a few flowers likely left by Feyhestra’s father. It saddened the young woman to see her mother's shrine left so -empty-. She knelt down before the plaque, and lit several half-melted candles.

“Enmara-” Feyhestra spoke as she read the name inscribed on the shrine. The name lit a fire within her; anger, regret, sadness, heartache, and oddly enough, love. Feyhestra's mother was a powerful woman, a Magistrix that sought to have a child that may one day fill her shoes and carry on her work. Her work, she was married to it, more so than she was married to Tanthrus Dawnmourn. Her cares were of her studies and growth of power, not of her two children.

She tried for a time to teach the twins to harness the power of the arcane, but was met with opposition. Her son was drawn to the Light, and had a far stronger grasp on it’s use, while her daughter had no magical talent at all. Infuriated, she retreated into her work where she would leave a legacy herself instead of relying on her children to carry it on for her. Feyhestra’s memories of her mother were bittersweet; how she tried to study and produce a single flame, only to be met with failure and rejection. As a young girl she wanted nothing more to gain her mother’s approval, but with no aptitude for magic, Enmara saw her daughter as useless.

The wave of memories hit her hard, but Feyhestra’s focused breathing as she meditated did not falter. All she could do is hope that by praying and leaving offerings, Enmara may appreciate her daughter in death, as she certainly did not in life. Opening her eye, she shook off the memories and pulled a small bundle from her bag. Cakes, blessed by the temple priests, were placed in the offering bowl beneath her mother’s name. With the prayer complete, and the offerings made there was no reason to linger, “Goodbye, Minn’da.” was all Feyhestra could say as she raised herself from the floor. Without another word, she left the chamber and her memories behind.

Tagging: @curiouslich & @stormandozone for mention of the Finding Sei mission

[raptor-racket-blog]

Outfit commission for @stormandozone for her partner’s character, Zalin Shadowsunder.

[curiouslich]

DnD class: Zalin Shadowsunder

Mystic

You are a mystic! Your power comes from the Far Realm, a cerebral realm which the likes of Chtulu call home. Naturally attuned to this realm gives you supernatural extrasensory powers known as psionics. These psionics can manifest in a number of ways, from telepathy and mind control, over altering one's own metabolic processes and physical characteristics to abilities such as teleportation, telekinesis and pyrokinesis. Different orders of mystics focus on different psionic capabilities. Some focus on telepathy, some on self-altering, others on emotional manipulation or teleportation and others yet on manifesting psionic power as physical energy. To use these abilities, a mystic needs razor-sharp focus and an unerring mental discipline. A mystic is a strange and supernatural sage, who uses varied and unpredictable powers for battle as they take steps on a path to self-perfection and a greater understanding of the universe.

You can find the quiz here

Tagged by: @thanidiel

Tagging: @captainswingbeard @sakialyn @stormandozone

[theislesunfamily]

A Letter to Some Friends (You Versus You)

The following letter contains a script that could be best described as “to the point” and legible while the parchment itself is rather messy. It appears this note was written with time in mind, but not much detail, and it reads...

Ithanar gravely injured. In the care of our family. Recovery time unknown. 

Dealing with something bad. Very bad. Cannot explain what, when, where, why as of this message. 

Being followed, being hunted.

Will give update when I can.

Ildrielen Islesun

It appears that this letter may have been copied multiple times through means mundane or magical with the express purpose of having it delivered to multiple people through the Hawkers; the following recipients are... 

Zalin Shadowsunder ( @curiouslich )

Elleynah Stormsummer ( @stormandozone )

Thanidiel Highdawn ( @thanidiel )

Bricini Lightwing ( @jessipalooza )

Esme Sunshard & Faervell Bael’Nar ( @pyrar )

Avie Silverbrooke ( @thenaaru )

Emirenne Sunspite ( @sunspite )

Qeren Bloodmantle ( @breathofaether )

[curiouslich]

SWC - Day 1: Simple Spells

Tomorrow marks the start of the Court of Seasons. It is the first court that will be held on these lands in decades. I have been the Lord of the Shimmering Vale for many years now, and only now do I grasp what that means.

To many Sin’dorei I am a youth barely old enough to know anything of life. Yet even at this age I have to ask myself if what I have done is worth it? Everything I have accomplished in my life.

I am still a child in the standards of my people. At least that would have been the way of things before the fall. Nearly a quarter century has passed since the third war, and the children of that age learned to grow up quickly.

For generations there was a way of things, nobles, merchants, land and family. They all meant something, something that couldn’t carry the candle to what they mean now. Still an infant by my grandparent’s standards I picked up a sword, a shield, a book, and I became a Sunward. A General of a military that hadn’t needed to exist in their world.

Their world passed, and a new sun rose. I have spent all this time building and working for a future, one I always questioned if it was worth it. My family hated me, why would they listen to the last breathing son of a forsaken house?

That didn't stop me though, something pushed me. With my own hands I reformed the House of Sunders. I earned the resources to gather allies. I forged the alliances to bolster a force. I commanded troops and reclaimed Shimmervale. A land taken and rotten by their world. I cleansed their sins. I alone led my House through the darkness left by my father, left by the House of Shadowsunder.

Taking my title and throne of Lord I still didn’t understand why I had done any of it, why was this so important to me.

The first time I spoke it I knew why. Like a new spell I felt a tinge of magic flood through me. Letters that had no meaning moments earlier grew into something so powerful. Once it touched my ears the box was open and it was real. The meaning of what I had built finally made sense to me.

I have studied arcane magics my entire life. I have drawn glyphs, runes, and filled tomes with my knowledge… Nothing I have ever done in my life has rivaled what I felt this afternoon. The feeling of running my hand over her stomach and uttering one simple word.

.... Sedatyra

@stormandozone

[curiouslich]

Zalin Shadowsunder

Appearance -

Gender: Male

Race: Sin’dorei

Height: 6′3″

Eye Color: Violet

Hair Color: Onyx

The Facts -

Name Day: Summer Fire Festival

Occupation: The Sentinel, Knight-Lieutant, Lord of the Shimmering Vale, Spellbreaker

Sexual identification: Heterosexual

Romantic identification: Reserved

Alignment: Lawful Evil

Criminal History: Former Shadow’s Hand

Relationship Status: Single

Favorites –

Favorite food: Sleeper Sushi

Favorite drink: Water

Favorite artist: None

Favorite scents: Smoke, Arcane, Books, Phoenix flower

Favorite person(s): Elleynah Stormsumer

Randoms –

Ten facts about your muse:

⚫  He is the second born of Zavylx and Sedara Shadowsunder, the leading members of the family before the War of Seasons

⚫  The Black Phoenix crest is a family symbol branded on his Right arm. Orignially it severed as a rune for a magic glammer that covered his eyes and made them appear green. 

⚫  He ascended to lord of his house after the ‘death’ of his cousin. Seilaran left the burden to him in her will. Despite it being the cause of the War of Seasons in Shimmervale Zalin delights in the irony that he is the Head of the House.

⚫ Loathes will not tolerate anyone that compares him to his Father. Viewing Zavylx as a tryrrant that destroyed Shimmervale.

⚫ The death of his mother is what spurred Zalin to join the Sunguard. His final mission in the Shadow’s Hand was to detroy the last traitor to the family, upon learning the target he refused to harm Sedara. In the end he was unable to stop his former comrade from completeing the task.

⚫  His common companion is a Shadow Phoenix he named after his grandmother Sedeli.

⚫  After finally allowing himself to grieve for the death of his mother he took time for introspection believing he no longer wanted blood on his hands. Speaking with Telchis Truefeather he dedicated himself to becoming a Spellbreaker

⚫ As a result of his work with an Ogre Breaker Stone and a magic explosion he is covered in their Breaker runes.

⚫ On the evening of the Gala celebrating the defeat of the Bleeding Eye Zalin lost his arm defending Azriah from a the Dawnbreaker, leader of the Eternal Dawn.

⚫ Zalin is still suffering the effects of a hemoragic curse and the inability to replace his arm. His medical conditions weighs heavily on him as he rushes to build a legacy.

Five Things -

Things they like: - Magic - Midnight - Ice Cream - Phoenix - The Oracle

Things they dislike: - Dogs/Wolves especially Worgen - Disobedience - Cowardice - Nobility - Sloth

Good habits:

- Loyal - Resourceful - Brave - Cunning - Reserved  - Leader

Bad Habits:

-  Shy - Stuborness - Weakness to Light - Stubbornness - Manipulative

Personalities they gravitate toward:

- Honest

- Strong 

- Knowledgeable

- Curious 

Personality types they avoid:

- Know-it-alls

- Self-serving

- False Courtesies

- Indecisiveness

Fears:

- Changing Nothing - Becoming a political pawn - Becoming his Father.. - Being the survivor

Tagged by @felthier

Tagging @stormandozone for Mentions

[curiouslich]

Zalin Shadowsunder

╳   flaws

moody |  short-tempered  | emotionally unstable |  whiny

controlling |  conceited |  possessive  |  paranoid  | liar

impatient   | cowardly | bitter  |  selfish   | power-hungry

greedy |  lazy  |  judgmental |  forgetful | impulsive

spiteful  | stubborn |  sadistic  | petty | unlucky

♔   strengths

honest |  trustworthy | thoughtful  |  caring |  brave

patient |  selfless |  ambitious | tolerant  | lucky

intelligent |  confident | focused  | humble |  generous

merciful  |  observant | wise  | clever |  charming

cheerful |   optimistic  | decisive | adaptive |  calm | loyal

[theislesunfamily]

A Letter to Elleynah Stormsummer [You Break, We All Break]

The letter addressed to Elleynah Stormsummer is rather plain, but still formal enough, stamped with a seal belonging to House Islesun.

A blocky script contained within most definitely belongs to Ithanar, but it seems hastily put together with some spelling and grammatical errors here and there.

Elleynah,

I just wanted to apologize for my absence in the recent weeks. I know you have been busy, that we have all been busy, but some personal events have come up that I had to take care of.

There is no easy way to write this, to pen this out, but there is a chance I may not come back from said personal events.

I’ve left my family in shambles for too long now, and I want to give them one last thing to cling onto. I’m no leader for them, no shining example, but I will try my damndest to be one for them now.

With this all in mind, I have some requests in the case that I do not return, which seems quite likely given what I am headed into…

Tell Velianor I am sorry we never got to finish those swim lessons.

Tell Enne, the taller Illidari woman, and Seven, her Felstalker - it is a long story - that I am sorry I did not get to spend more time with them. I really enjoyed that pup, and her company of course although it was brief.

Tell Eldriana and Waralyon sorry that I was not able to enjoy their rather fine and hilarious company further.

Give Lirelle and Sederis my thanks for the wonderful company and drink the other night. I made the bed in their guest quarters before I left. I’m a grunt, but not a savage.

Tell the Spectre, the Knight-Captain, whatever title she goes by now - I’ve put a gift together for her and Bael’nar.

It’s sitting on my desk now as I look it over, but I won’t say for it’s a bit of a surprise.

Tell Bricini she still owes me coffee, yes, even if I am a ghost or spirit.

Give Synthiel my thanks for the conversation. She’s a mysterious one, but damn intriguing. I wish we had spoken more. 

Tell Zalin that he needs to protect you with everything he has, protect all of this. You two are the future.

Tell Dawnsworn that she needs to stop getting hurt in the infirmary, but she is damn good at her job and her giving a damn matters more than perhaps anything. 

Tell the Wildfire that she still owes me a truth.

She can make that up by giving such an “honor” to you.

Tell Nuellen that she assuaged my concerns about being some old and worn down soldier who couldn’t keep up with the Sunguard. Tell her thank you for that. 

Tell the Knight-Commander thank you for giving me a damn chance to prove.

If you ever run into a woman named Qeren Brightmantle, let her know that she was fantastic and that green was her color. Most definitely. Make sure she is alright, at least for my sake.

Finally, thank you. You keep doing what you think is right, Elleynah, for you have a good sense for it.

I’m sorry we didn’t have the chance to spend more time together, to go explore ruins, to go seek out some ancient runes, to see the world, to continue our friendship but don’t mourn me. Do that all for me, would you? 

There are good things ahead.

Ithanar

This letter remains on Ithanar’s desk. 

It was never sent.

No, instead a note has been scribbled on the far right corner.

He’s coming back.

I’m not sending this.

[curiouslich]

Made of Scars

“10th: Describe your character using sensual, positive language. Consider the description akin to the description of a harlequin romance hero/heroine, or other romantic language used to describe a person.”

The history of a person is made in the tapestry of their skin, and he was no different. A weaved network of scars told the tale of dark times and survived horrors. Each trailing line fought to tell its own tale among the myriad of screaming voices that created the song of his existence. No song was louder then the glimmer of magics buried in his skin. A mirage of shimming colors skating in the complex lines of a barbaric culture.

Stretched like the canvas of a troubled artist struggling to show his vision there was no part left untouched from damage save for pale slopes of his face. Like the cap of a distant mountain, unmarred and unchanging the edges jagged yet beaten by the erosion of a life less easy. Set in the filigree hands in the roof of his being were a pair of Amethyst nebulas.

Crowned in the night sky of jet black strands that flowed like rivers. They cascaded down to cling to his neck and shoulders building the picture frame of his face that at times held a chiding smile, and at others a fragile line of contemplation.

The Sentinel was still a youth among his people, still a child that had not seen the world, not learned of its lessons. Yet he told another tale, one of a man who has seen the grandeur of the universe, felt the ravages of wars, and even more was made of the scars he endured.

[curiouslich]

...A Miracle

There were rumors that the Sentinel was not well. Whomever thought they were just rumors never met the man. They didn’t hear his cries. Didn’t witness his pain. Zalin Shadowsunder. Sunward of the Sunspear, Knight-Lieutenant of the Sunguard, Shield of Quel'thalas. Was completely broken.

It should have shocked the Dawnmeneder more to see the empty bed then it did. How many times had Zalin scolded the rank and file. “Obey the menders, you need rest to be strong… Of course, he didn’t take his own advice.”  

Fortunately, though the injured man had not gone very far. Nor did he go with much stealth. Zalin had left a trail of disarray through the infirmary halls. A trail that his assigned mender followed, and once again should have been more shocked to see the High Cleric’s Office lit up in an orange glow.

Stowing himself for confronting a Superior officer the mender reminded himself of the rank of the infirmary over the rank of the Sunguard.

Pushing into the office his resolve melted with the sight of the man. White robes and sterile wraps covered the phantom visage of a proud commander. Gently bobbing stars furthered the ghastly illusion with their weak light.  “Sir you should be resting. I know you and the High Cleric where close, but I have to insist.”

Zalin’s was hovering over a book stand, pouring over an ancient text. Shifting his gaze to the intruder he gave him an icy glance before focusing back on his work. 

“Sentinel Sir, I have to insist you need rest to heal. How many times have you chastised your own men for doing just this?” Stepping further into the office the Dawnmender started to shiver. It was cold.

This time Zalin didn’t even move his head in response. “Then bring my bed here. There is too much work to sleep.”

“Sir, we can’t do that, we can bring whatever you need to your room, but you really must stay there.”

Zalin pounded on the book stand sending out a jolt through the air that showed more strength then his fragile form should have possessed. “AND have to wait on you people? There is too much to be done, I will not rest until she is safe, until she is back.”

“Sir, please…”

“Another word and it will be insubordination. Am I understood?”

Pushing down a chilled breath the Dawnmender advanced again. He needed to do something or Zalin would reopen his wounds again, if he  hadn’t already. “Please Sir. I need you to understand that we are all doing what we can. I have no doubt the Suncasters are hard at work deciphering everything that took place over there. But from your state… over 70 percent of your body is covered in shadow burns. The fact that you are even still alive is a miracle!” 

Miracle….

     An act of the divine...  

           An event that can’t be explained…  

                     His voice was low, a whisper muttered only for himself. “I am alive because she made a choice…” Bandaged knuckles growing white. As his violet eyes began to burn with wetness. “She is gone, because I made a choice.” The room grew even colder. The heat of his breath showing in the light of floating suns.

“She would want you to rest.”

         She would want…

“Please. Sir, go back to the infir..”  The Emberward’s plea fell silent. His request died in the frigid air along with the rest of his voice. Brilliant streaks of arcane light flashed just under the oathsworn’s chin before a sense of constriction coiled throughout his body. 

The Sentinel was unmoved by his guest’s increasingly panicked movements. “It wasn’t a miracle, it was spell.” Returning to the book stand before him he reached for the next weathered tome. As he pushed his hand forward his eyes fell back to the lines of drawn ink. Memories flashing of just nights ago.

They had marked one another with intricate runes and symbols, all of which told the tale of whispered promises and long-awaited love. Letting go of his breath he released the spell. The silence of the office vanished with the crash of something heavy hitting the stone floor. 

“And any spell, even a Tel’dorei deal is still magic, it has flaws and ways to reverse it. A life for a life. My future, for ours…”

@stormandozone​

[curiouslich]

Restraints

The man was helpless in this state. Eyes covered. Mouth sealed. Hands wrapped over his shoulders around a thick piece of wood. Chains strapping over his waist as thick leather straps kep. Finally the prisoner’s ankles cuffed to a steel spike jutting out the wall. He seemed like a macabre marionette.

Lifting an eyebrow at the dreadful scene the medic glanced over to the warden serving as a guard. For a moment he contemplated the situation.  “Are, you sure this is all needed? He is just one man, and injured man at that.” Doctor Luxford was perplex. Who was this man, what happened to him.

Bloodied bandages covered much of the captives left side. Reports said he took a spear clean through. It was a miracle none of his organs were ruptured, or fates cruel twist to force him to linger on.

The warden though shook her plated helm, an aura of disapproval. “This man is an enemy general. Zalin Shadowsunder.” Turning to face the bound individual on the floor before delivering a kick right up against his bandaged side.

The captured commander grit his teeth. No doubt he would have howled in pain if he was capable. In this state though…. He may as well be dead. Perhaps he’d be better that way the doctor mused. Quickly shaking  the thought from his head. He was a doctor, he was tasked in ensuring this. Mr. Shadowsunder survived. Loathe as he was to admit, every life was important. Even a Sin’dorei combant.

“The horde may be a barbaric force, but does he really deserve this?” Human eyes still looking over the scarred man on the floor. Almost transfixed by the figure. Bound and held up like a battered sheet out to dry. Glowing runes arcing from blue, to green, to purple covered his chest, and one of his arms. What was he even? He didn’t seem so dangerous.  “Couldn’t we at least remove one of those things.” Reaching out to the elf the doctor’s fingers touched the blindfold. “Surely his eyes can’t do much?” Like a flash of lightning the Warden grabbed the Doctor’s hand and scoffed at the offending human. “This man is a wanted criminal. He is a Spellbreaker General, one that has literally bathed in the blood of our people, your people.” Even behind the plated helm the Doctor couldn’t help but gulp. He must be staring down a death glare. “Do you even know what a Spellbreaker is? What he is capable of doing?”

Shaking his head the doctor couldn’t place the title beyond being something of elven creation. “I imagine a magic adept of some sort?” Relinquishing the man the Warden replaced her grasp with a lock of the prisoners hair. Pulling back to expose his obscured face. “Correct, and that is why all this is needed. If our magic isn’t enough he will break it. If our restraints are too weak…” Delivering another kick into the now reddened bandages. “He’ll find a way out.”

The Doctor couldn’t help but to wince at the treatment.  

“We are under orders to prevent his escape at all costs. That, is why this is all needed. A ruthless man who’s cold actions will earn him Elune’s judgement. “ Turning the Spellbreaker’s head to the side she offered him up.  “Now do your job Doctor and sedate him. I won't have him have his complete faculties.”

The doctor lowered his head. There was no other option. Though was against his oath, against what he stood for…. but he made a pledge to fight for the Alliance. To defend his home… He just never imagined that protecting his comrades meant abusing captives.

Feet moving over their own accord he stepped forward and drew the needle. Making sure there was no air in the syringe he offered one more look to the poor man beneath him. Wordlessly he pressed the metal to the man’s exposed neck. He couldn’t help but wonder if his measurements were right, would this dose kill him? Still he delivered the ‘medication’ hoping it was at least ease the suffering of this lost soul.

It was quick, and almost an instant later the prisoner’s head start to droop.

He was out.

A smile grew on Zalin’s masked face. First the compliments then the familiar feeling of a needle laced with sweet relief. At least it would dull the radiating pain from a poorly sutured wound. Closing his eyes he started to slip.

Leaving the cold prison cell the Spellbreaker found himself floating on an empty ocean of serene water. A flash of red and green and the smell of earth and herbs soothed his exhausted mind.

Her order was simple. “Come home.”

@stormandozone @thesunguardmg