vyvienne

[vyvienne]

The Ore and the Raven

I am reclining on a velvet chaise lounge in my room, again impressed by the luxuriousness in which the Sin’dorei live. I have a small wooden lap desk settled carefully on my knees with quill in hand, scribbling furiously. A cup of tea sits within reach on a small table and beside it is the beautiful raven Skormosh made for me. Tonight he requested one ton of Elementium and would prefer it within two days. I have no idea if my contact Liadrea is able to obtain this amount within the given time frame but if it’s possible, she will find it.

I joined my new group in the local pub in Orgrimmar called the Wyvern’s Tail. I have to admit it isn’t what I am used to. It’s much more...what’s the word? Gritty. That suffices. Fights, people yelling, it was certainly an eye opener. I thought the Pig and Whistle, my former haunt in Stormwind, was uncouth. Compared to the Wyvern’s Tail it was positively mannerly. And it had no chairs. What would Ham think, having no chairs to thieve?

However, it was pleasant to be out in the city around others. I spend too much time alone, I know I do. But that wasn’t exactly true. As if reading my mind, I feel something behind me. A slight ripple in the air, nothing more. I don’t bother to turn, because I know that feeling very well. My raven Amity is now standing tall as a beautiful and lethal Kaldorei.

“I do not approve of this new group you are becoming involved in, Vyvienne” the Kaldorei says. Her voice is soft and hard to hear. She disliked speaking common, saying it was hard on her sensitive ears. After years, I knew a bit of Darnassian but not enough to converse fluently with her. “You approve of very little I do these days Thorne. You’ve known me for over a decade. Why does this surprise you, of all things?”

The Kaldorei is shorter than her kin but her presence fills the room. She moves just like the cat she spends a good deal of her time shifted into, outside of playing my raven. “To watch over you” she would always say. She slinks across the room, choosing to sit on the floor as if the décor of the inn annoys her. Her robes are colored like earth and sky and she wears no shoes. Her scent is of jasmine and earth. “Why do you feel the need?” Thorne asks directly.

I put the pen down, turning to look at her. I knew this conversation had been brewing for weeks and I wanted to speak directly so there would be no misunderstandings. “You know what I want. I want my daughter back. Alive, Undead, it doesn’t matter to me how she comes back as long as she does.” I wait because I know how Thorne feels about the Undead and how she feels about using magic for “forbidden” reasons. She wasn’t alive when the Well of Eternity blew up but her parents told stories that had been told by their parents. Many Kaldorei looked upon magic suspiciously to this day and even though Thorne was a druid who focused on manipulating not just earth, but also the heavens, she still had that deep, genetic feeling.

“You cannot do that, Vyvienne” she says. “It is unnatural. Allow your child to join her father beyond the veil. Or do you plan to bring him back as well?”

“No. He took her from me. I have no desire to see him again” I say simply. It was the truth. My love had withered to rage, even with my thoughts that my father had somehow manipulated Drex into leaving. It was my nature to be untrusting and suspicious. I was tired of fighting my nature. “I hear her, Thorne. I hear Angelinne and I hear Emily. Or I think I do. I won’t ignore her again.”

With the words finally said aloud to another living soul, I turn back to my note finishing it quickly. I melt the golden wax and affix my seal. I hold it out to Thorne. “Please deliver this to Liadrea. She will meet you in Northrend outside of Ham’s spa. I have asked her to keep an eye on it in case he faces any kind of trouble.”

Thorne eyes the letter, then me, then back to the letter. “I dislike Northrend. I despise Death Knights. You know why.” I continue to hold it out. “I know, but this is important.” She sighs. “It is not “important”, Vyvienne. Mourning your child is important. This is only important to you and that giant you’ve decided to befriend.” I narrow my eyes. “When, or how, I mourn is my own business” I tell her. Also, you have told me I need more friends. You cannot now tell me you don’t like the ones I’ve chosen.” While the word “friend” may not be exact concerning the Sanctum as of yet, it was at least in the vicinity.

My hand reaches up to touch the locket around my neck. Skormosh had asked about it tonight. I was not ready to reveal that it holds a small portrait of my daughter and an even smaller vial of her blood. A few drops at most, but I have noticed that since wearing it my magic was more potent. I wasn’t exactly sure why. Perhaps because it was infused with Angelinne’s power? I shake my head slightly, unwilling to hypothesize about it now, while having a somewhat major disagreement with my friend.

“Thorne, please. I do not wish to ask Elineda to do this. It’s enough that she’s out trying to gather information for me.” Thorne rolls her eyes, which looks completely wrong on her normally calm face. Her face shows calm even when she’s angry. “Trying, and failing, I may add. The young one is not nearly as trained as your former mentor would lead you to believe.” I snicker. “I think you may just be jealous you’re not out doing the same thing. I’ve told you it’s unnecessary to follow me everywhere and it is completely ridiculous that I need constant babysitting. I haven’t had a babysitter since I was in the cloister.” Once again, the Kaldorei rolled her eyes but she reached out and took the letter.

“Yes, and that turned out so very well did it not?” Thorne sighed, her voice nearing a level of sarcasm completely out of character for her. “When I lost Laeorn I wanted him back” she spoke, so low that I had to strain to hear her. “We did not have a child, but he was my lover, my mentor. He was my world. Then he was gone. You remember. The grief nearly drove me insane.” She paused, voice raising slightly. “You are insane right now, Vyvienne. Drexdan was wrong before, but I am not wrong now.”

With that, she shifted back into my faithful raven. The letter was now in her beak and she flew out the open window. I paused, watching her go. Thorne was my oldest friend, since I had rescued her years ago from an attack by a Death Knight in Ashenvale. It was completely by accident that I ran into the scene and didn’t even think. I attacked, giving her enough time to recover herself and help. It turned out this was her former betrothed who fell in the Third War. She would not have him in his “unnatural” state and it proved too much. He attacked her and probably would have killed her.

Since then, Thorne had been at my side, almost to the exclusion of all else. Even when she married, she spent a good deal of her time with me. I knew (and introduced) her husband, so it was no issue. He was often busy as well, being a loyal Kaldorei solider sent on many missions. I did not like asking her to do something she was uncomfortable with and she did not like that I had turned back to how I was when she met me. She preferred that I was still serving the Cathedral and baking cookies for orphans.

Those days are gone for me now. Even if my daughter wants nothing to do with me, it is better she is alive than not. And I will pursue this with vigor because I can do nothing else. That is me. That is who I have always been.

[vyvienne]

Updated RP Profile

Name: Vyvienne Damora

Name meaning: From the Latin word for life or alive.

Nicknames: Vyv, CIA with Magic

Age: Unknown, Gestimated around early thirties

How old s/he appears: By how she acts? Fourties, or older.

Birthdate: Unknown

Zodiac: Unknown but by her actions? Virgo.

Nationality/Race: Sin’dorei (formerly Human, under an enchantment)

Eyes: Kerry Green

Hair: Golden Blonde

Skin: Porcelain

Body type: Slim, curves in the right places

Height/weight: 5' 0", 110ish lbs

Facial details: Heart shaped face, pert nose with a slightly upturned tip, full lips, cat like eyes.

Features/marks: None

Health: Healthy

Sexuality: Straight

Gender: Female, Feminine She/Her

Physical limitations: None

Physical advantages: Physically Vyv has little advantage over others. Mentally would be a different story.

Clothing/accessories: Custom tailored outfits; nothing gaudy. Soft colors, showing nobility but not greed.

Mother: Grace Mercer (Damora?), Deceased

Father:  Baron Eramis Damora, Lord of Autumnvale (Assumed Deceased)

Siblings: None that are known

Close friends: Falrith, Hamtaru

Nemeses: Eramis Damora

Significant other: None. Vyv is a widow.

Other relevant people: Thorne, Elineda

Liked or disliked?: Relative

Schooling: Well educated, both though the Church of Light and on her own. Athletics: Enough to stay in good health.  

Hobbies: Gardening, Reading, Observation, Magical discussion

Skilled at: Reading people, Magic, Noting how things come together, being silent Unskilled at: Making friends

Trait s/he wishes s/he had: Compassion

Temperament: Spellbinding, Frightening

Attitude: Observant, Cavalier about life      

Quirks: Vyv has a soft spot for orphans

Priorities: Safety first! Vyv will do almost anything to ensure her own safety.

Philosophy: Leaving someone alive today is asking for a potential problem tomorrow.

Good habits: Caring for the poor, the needy and the orphans in whatever area Vyv lives in.

Bad habits: Having little to no loyalty to any cause other than her own. She knows no faction, country or King.

Positive traits: Once Vyv actually is loyal nothing can break it other than betrayal

Negative traits: Little value for life that isn't connected to her own

Weaknesses: Hard hearted to the emotional needs of others making it hard to connect and make friends (this exclusion of feelings from her decisions has often lead to misunderstandings with people), doesn't understand the need or desire to save people or 'do good things' just because it's the right thing to do.

Strengths: Tenacious, magically gifted, analytical, diplomatic in many situations which creates the ability to benefit where others may not, immense amount of patience when the situation warrents

Fears/phobias: Never truly being safe, or being able to keep those she cares for safe.

Secrets: Vyv ensured she is the only remaining member (and heir) of the Damora family by doing away with the remaining two members after she was legitimized by her aunt.

Regrets: In some ways, Vyv regrets not living the life she started out living. A sister of the Light, someone who has faith in something larger than herself and finds comfort in that thing.

Calmed by: In general, doing things that make Vyv feel safe and in control. Knowledge is power.

Most at ease when: At home

Ill at ease when: In the middle of large groups of people, unable to watch them all.

Soft spot: Children, animals

In a crisis: Decisive, In charge

Under pressure: Vyv shines, her natural abilities come out.

In awkward social situations: Vyv would either try to smooth them or use whatever situation to her advantage.

Can s/he keep a secret?: Yes.

Independent or needy?: Independent.

Thoughts on others/People are inherently?: weak, untrustworthy and easily manipulated.

Day or night?: Night.

Pessimist or optimist?: Pessimist

Big picture or small details?: Small details lead to the big picture.

Important events in life: The most shaping was mid-teens, when Vyv discovered a child being murdered by a cult. It was this event that led to her leaving the cloister, as it was a fellow sister that had delivered the orphaned child over.

Short-term goals/hopes: Currently she wants to kill her father.

Long-term goals/hopes: Nothing I’m willing to put here right now.

How s/he feels about self: Right now Vyv isn’t quite herself. She recently was widowed and suffered the death of her only child. This has made her deeply disturbed and she is working to purge herself of the emotions she feels about what happened.

Drink: Bourbon/Milk (not together, you heathen)

Color: Blue/Orange

Animals: All animals

Chores: Gardening/Cooking

Season: Spring/Winter

Expletives: Vyv rarely uses curse words. If she does, things are very wrong. She does sometimes say Blood and Damnation!

Favorite Type of RP: Espionage/intrigue/criminal RP are the areas I find most appealing. I also enjoy social/open community RP.

Triggers: RP involving large amounts of screaming or quarreling for extended periods are a definite no to me. 

Things I Will Not RP: Sexual content with children.

RP Strong Points:   Adaptable from descriptive multi=para to concise replies; respectful of others story arcs, history and the time involved to create them. OOC communication friendly and generally willing to work with whomever involved to make the best experience possible.

RP Weak Points: In open/social RP I tend to get lost in the messages, try to read them all and often end up with slow response time.

Would They Be Known:  If you run in less savory circles you may have seen her face but you probably would not know her name.

Personality: Calm, cunning, determined, charismatic, resourceful, patient, diplomatic -   In most cases has the ability to read people well and offer them what they need thereby gaining loyalty from those around her.

Tattoos/Piercings: Pierced ears.

First Appearances: She is always dressed in clothes befitting a woman of her station. She is well groomed, clean, hair in place, her clothing is pressed. The only time you would not see her this way might be after an involved healing. She has a tendency to rip hems from clothing to wipe wounds before she heals or create makeshift bandages if people refuse Light healing.

What To Expect: Each interaction with Vyvienne is different based upon who she is meeting. When meeting her, Vyvienne will almost always act like a lady, use manners, smile and be polite. You will rarely, if ever, hear her say a curse word. She abhors rudeness but even rude people will often be greeted with politeness if it suits her purpose. She is a social chameleon and can blend into a situation if she needs to. She might choose not to, but she can. She's suspicious and untrusting. One noteworthy mention – she cannot be intimidated. She has no fear of magic, no fear of violence and no fear of threats. When she walks into a room she knows she belongs there and cannot be convinced otherwise until she makes the choice to go. 

Favorite Type of RP: Do I have to pick one? I do all sorts of RP, ranging from random meetings in a tavern to plot-drive adventures and character development scenes. If it’s RP, I’m probably down for it.

Triggers: OOC drama over IC interactions. This is make-believe fun time. Let’s keep it that way. 

Things I Will Not RP: Case-by-case. Mature content is fine, but there’s limits to what I find acceptable. I’ll speak up if it ever reaches that point.

RP Strong Points: I’m adaptable to all types of RP, from short, rapid-fire bursts to multi-para descriptive. Flexible in all sorts of IC situations, accommodating to other people’s stories, and a fast typer. I like to think I’m a good character writer too. :P

RP Weak Points: I tend to get caught up on the little details when I’m typing, especially in multi-para situations. I have a difficult time keeping up with many players at once.

[vyvienne]

Ham and a Better Class of Criminal

A knock comes at the door while I stare at my open journal. My thoughts won’t come. I have them, a lot of them tonight, but nothing coherent yet.

I saw Ham tonight for the first time in years. He made me track him down, apparently because he wasn’t sure the note was actually from me. When I think on what I wrote, I don’t believe there was anything in it that would have been specific enough to let him know it wasn’t some sort of trap. If that didn’t tell me how far afield I’d allowed myself to wander I’m not sure what can.

And why did I allow it, I ask myself sometimes? For love? No. It wasn’t love in the beginning. I saw something, someone, that looked at life completely unlike I did. Someone who was often in danger and yet never thought how the world was an awful place to defend against. In short, I was fascinated by his goodness. I’d only known one other person with it and she was a cloistered sister.  It’s easy to be kind when everyone around you seems to support it. 

Though I will not say Sister Janette didn’t at least try to instill in me a source of goodness and decency, a love of the Light and all it could do. It wasn’t her fault. By the time I came to her I had already seen more violence as a child than most adults ever see. How can you tell a young girl the world is good when internally she knows it isn’t. But she loves you and so she wants to *protect you* from that ugly truth. 

The knock came again, sharper this time. I jerk towards the door, shadow tendrils pouring from my hands immediately. I listen and hear a voice speaking softly. “It’s me, Lady. Elineda.” I shake off the internal snap to violence, stand up quickly and open the door. The young woman walks in, looking at me with an odd face. I stare her down. I won’t be answering questions for this one.

I say nothing, shutting the door behind her. I settle into a chair, waiting for her report.

“I have been into the cities. I focused on Orgrimmar as you requested.” Elineda pauses, as if she’s uncertain how to continue and I still wait, remaining silent as she struggled to compose herself. “To be honest, Lady, I have found nothing.”

At that I blink, my sign of surprise I suppose. “Nothing? How can there be nothing? No one seeking to kill another, no one talking loudly about cults or odd murders? Nothing?” Then I frown, my green eyes showing more annoyance than I desired. I stop, compose myself and continue. “That is an impossibility in a city that size. You must go deeper.” She nods at me. “Honestly, all I could find was two bit criminals, people shanking others in the darker streets, thieves trying to pickpocket. That sort of thing. It’s as if the city needs a better class of criminal.”

I laugh softly, my eyes lighting up. “Does it now? Does it indeed?” I wave her away. “Go back and go deeper. Find what I am looking for.” She nods, standing quickly, not liking the sound of my laugh, the look in my eye. I could see it in her. Fear. Fear of me and I had done nothing more than laugh. Perhaps this was best. A healthy dose of fear can keep you alive, they say. 

As she moves to the door, rather quickly, two thoughts come over me. “Before you go back to the city, go to this address. Check out the nearest small town. Check the spa. Ensure my visit tonight didn’t draw anything troublesome to the area. Try not to be seen, but don’t be surprised if you’re caught by a blind Pandaren.” She cocks a brow but is still slightly afraid so she keeps quiet. “Once you do this, I want you to return and watch in this city for a while. If anyone would be talking about cults, you should hear it in this city.” She eyes me but nods again. 

As she leaves the room, I pour myself a cup of tea trying to compose myself. I feel better since talking to Ham, but I left with more questions than I went with. However, one thing is certain. I’ve started on a path towards power and I refuse to turn away again. If Drex or bloody Angelinne try to sway me, I’ll send their souls somewhere they can’t bother me again. 

I turn back to my journal. It’s time to move on.

[vyvienne]

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Due to the more risque nature of our performances, an OoC Age of Consent form is required to be signed by all guests who attend. There are no exceptions. Please be sure to sign up on the character you are going to be attending with! You and your character must be 18+ to attend.

Link To Form => HERE!

WHEN: 16th November, 2024 (Saturday) WHERE: World’s End Tavern, Shattrath City (Lower City) TIMES: Doors open at 6pm WRA ( 8pm MG ) Performance start at 6:30pm WRA ( 8:30pm MG ) This is a Wyrmrest Accord hosted event! Cross-faction / cross-server friendly! ANCHORS TBA

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[vyvienne]

Under a Geas

I sit in front of the window watching the sun play along the furniture in the room, sipping morning tea. Long ago I began to drink Honeymint with a quarter twist of lemon after meeting Sarah Skyfall nearly by accident one day in Stormwind. Odd and quirky, Sarah was an engineering savant. She made Drex the most impressive time piece for Winterveil one year. 

It’s apparently become my habit to mull over the past in the quiet hours of the morning, to allow my mind to roam and, once complete, I begin to purge the feelings connected to what comes up. To find distance from the emotions, as I once would have done. 

It’s not that I’ve never felt normal emotions like other people. It’s simply that my life had no time for them until suddenly I was flooded. As if life found a way to push them into my soul, not allowing me to ignore them any longer. Once, I would have pushed them completely away but now I was wise enough to know I must give myself permission to feel them, if only for a few moments each day. Then I slowly snip the thread of connection, if the memory is unwanted, so I may allow my mind to clear. I can remember them without being overwhelmed by them. Walking this line between Shadow and Light makes it imperative that my mind is unclouded and recently that’s far from where I’ve been.

As I sit conducting this morning ritual there’s a quiet knock. I rise, annoyed to be brought out of my reverie before I was ready. When I approach the door I allow a bit of magic to flow into the one hand behind my back. Habits die hard.

As I open the door before me stands a beautiful Sin’dorei woman with jet black hair and bright blue eyes. She was tall, nearly three inches taller than I am. I let the magic grow in my hand, saying nothing, waiting for her to speak. When she does, I blink in surprise.

“My name is Elineda Dawnblade, niece to Aeras Dawnblade, your former mentor. May I come in, Lady Damora?” I step back, allowing her into the room and quickly shut the door while holding that one hand, now thrumming with magic, waiting for an attack. I have always had the suspicion that one day Aeras would attempt to kill me, if for no other reason than he hated leaving what he liked to call “loose ends”. So if young Elineda came for my demise, she would be disappointed.

“Please sit down” I say to her, while not taking a seat myself. She settles herself in a chair. “Tea?’ I ask, as one might when having a surprise visitor in one’s hotel room. “No, thank you” she replies. “I have come with a letter from my uncle.” Her face showed no hint of her nature, but I could sense the turmoil and the grief. I knew immediately that Aeras was no more. I reabsorb the magic, dropping my hand. She proffers the letter and a signet ring which I take and settle into the chair across from her, still cautious but feeling no ill intent from her. I break the seal of the letter, quickly scanning the contents. I look up.

“My dearest dark child (his nickname for me),

I will soon cross the threshold of the Veil, most likely before you receive this letter. I want you to know I have missed you terribly. When we fought that night, the night I left, I realized I had to go. I was breaking my own rule, finding myself unwilling to place you into harm's way any longer. It was then I realized it was time for me to come home. I could no longer do our life’s work. And it certainly turned into your life’s work, did it not, dark child? 

I want you to know I have followed your progress, have always known where you are, and even at times helped when you perhaps ran into odds you weren’t prepared for in the beginning. But you proved more resilient, more powerful, than I ever could have imagined when I took you in those years ago. My aid was less and less until it became completely unnecessary. 

I watched you grow, watched you fall in love, have a child and lose them both. Now I see you need my help again. I will not pass through the Veil until you have all the help I can provide. First, my signet ring which may help you anywhere the Quel’Dorei or Sin’Dorei hold sway. Please wear it in memory of me. I have had it sized down for you. Second, I will you my niece Elineda, who has been trained in the arts of subterfuge, poisons and assassination. You certainly have no need of help when it comes to the latter, but now you find yourself in a mostly unknown and unfamiliar land. Elineda can fill in those gaps for you until you may learn them yourself. I have trained her personally. She is young and eager but she has pristine instincts and is loyal. 

I would have liked to have seen you once more, dark child.

Walk in Shadow, Vyvienne.

Aeras”

I look up at the young woman across from me. She couldn’t be more than 18 or 19 but if Aeras trained her, I knew by this age she could easily be deadly. She watches me with curiosity but waits for me to speak. “He has “willed” your services to me?” What in the bloody Void does that mean, I wonder? Mischievous old goat. “You may have to describe these services. What, exactly, are you to do for me?” I did not offer her condolences, as a normal person might in such circumstances. 

She points at the parchment. “As he told me, I was to be your eyes and ears wherever you may need them, kill whomever you deem a target and keep you alive no matter the cost.” I look her over. No hint of fear, but how much combat could she have seen at her age? “Keep me alive?” I echo. “No matter what? Meaning regardless of the cost of your own life. You are under a geas, then. Your life belongs to me, is that what you understand?” She only nods. I shake my head. “I am unsure if I wish for another life in my hands but as always, your uncle is correct. I can use you. Therefore, I will accept his gift.” Knowing that acceptance could easily mean this young woman’s death, I realize I have no thought on that. Closer to what I was before. I am pleased.

“Take rooms here in the inn. Tell them to put them under my name.” She smiles. “I need only show them my signet.” She held up a ring that mirrors my own. “They will find proper space for me.” She waits. “Once you’re settled, begin to go out into the cities, especially here and Orgrimmar, and listen for things I may need to know. Who hates who? Who owes who? Is anyone speaking of groups dedicated to the Void or groups in the area that are too powerful to exist? These things I wish to know.” She nods, starts to the door and then turns back to me. “He called out your name at the end.” Before I can say a word, she leaves. I know she has tears in her eyes.

I look down at the signet ring. Two blades crossed, covered by the SilverMoon sigil does in reds and golds. The heraldry of House Dawnblade. I slip it onto the middle finger of my right hand. It’s a perfect fit. I’m beginning to feel more at home. I have reached out to my contacts concerning the ore needed by Skormosh. I once again have eyes and ears at my disposal. I have found possible assistance and camaraderie with the Sanctum.

Now I can begin again.

[vyvienne]

The Damp and Thoughts on Power

I am back at the small desk of gilded wood here in Silvermoon Inn where I’ve taken up residence temporarily, pleased to be putting pen to parchment. I expect emotions to well up inside me while I think of Drex, of Emily but today there is nothing. I’m glad, honestly, to let myself have a day free of grief and guilt. It’s been an exhausting but interesting week.

I spoke for some time with the Defiler while pursuing the library at the Damp. I found him to be a pleasant conversationalist. While I know there are many things he is withholding (as am I), he doesn’t appear to be planning to harm me or use me in ways I don’t wish to be used. Therefore I can accept his offer of help, to find the parts of me I am missing. But I have to wonder, what am I missing? I can think of one thing that would elevate my power and allow me to track Eramis.

Angelinne. Her power, added to mine, allowed me to heal spontaneously. It allowed me to absorb the Light from others, the one thing Varethuun realized quickly about me. She has passed through the Veil, perhaps onto the Shadowlands. But I feel as if she would not have. Her desire to watch over me was strong, even when I didn’t trust her. She considered herself my conscience and perhaps for a while she accomplished a goal of pushing me to consider others as well as myself. That seems admirable, and when I was Lady Vyvienne, Baroness of Autumnvale, Priestess of the Light (what a long and ludicrous group of titles), wife to Drexdan Lawrence, Mage of the Kirin Tor and mother to Emily Grace it certainly helped to, at the very least, acknowledge others. 

At times I even cared. I made friends, confidants…things I’ve never had in this life til that point. But now, those same things could get me killed. I am still not convinced my father somehow didn’t poison Drex’s mind. Father Dear is a priest after all. A powerful one, if Auntie Z was to be believed, and one who also walked the line between Light and Shadow as I have. If I am able to influence and even control people, to remove memories or plant them, to extract information from the unwilling, why couldn’t he have similar power? Again, I am just not convinced he isn’t at fault. But after your father tries to kill you once or twice, he becomes an easy suspect. 

Not to say I wasn’t…haven’t been…acting odd. I still hear the whispers and now I swear I hear the dead. Drex would have worried. He would have been concerned that his wife, who always had such an iron will, an “indomitable spirit” as he described it, suddenly couldn’t tell what she truly heard and what was in her head. He would have been worried and afraid. Not say it wasn’t happening and take our daughter. 

Which leads me back to Angelinne. At times I swear I think I’ve heard her, very faint, calling out to me. If she is in fact just across the veil, absorbing her essence  completely this time could enhance my power. And enhanced, I can find Eramis, end this and become more powerful than before. His abilities must be immense. If I can absorb Light, why not other things? It’s a curious thought and one that I perhaps should discuss with Varethuun. It has been years since I followed a quest for power, but I feel now is the time to enhance my own.

Besides my conversation with the Defiler I allowed myself to be drawn to the smithy where I found Skormosh. The man slowly opened up about smithing which I found quite interesting. For some reason, I enjoy Skormosh’s company. He is quiet, like me, but once a threshold is crossed he appears to be willing to speak a bit more, just as I am. He is looking for various ores for a project and I offered to reach out to my contacts. One thing I refused to let wither while I played the Priestess was my network of contacts. I have reached out to a few people already and hope to have information when next I see him. He also mentioned Ryo assisting him in his endeavor so perhaps I will be able to help.

I find it interesting that I care to help. Have I been ruined by Angelinne and Drex constantly pushing me to be open to people? Or is Varethuun and the Defiler correct, and others assisting you can be of great assistance personally, beyond what I normally would have used them for and be done when the job was done? It took me a few years to actually be able to  work with others in Stormwind without assuming everyone was going to attempt to assassinate me. Should I allow myself to be drawn in? Or have I already allowed it by accepting the assistance the Defiler offered? 

There is one small dark cloud in this week of surprises and that is Ham. He has not yet replied to my letter which means I will have to track him down. I dislike having to do this and am not very pleased that it’s come to this. But find him I will, whether he likes it or not.

[vyvienne]

“The sweetest smiles hold the darkest secrets…”

— Sara Shepard, Flawless (via thethirddeadlysin)

[vyvienne]

I sit here at the small writing desk, quill raised over a blank page. I hear the ink dripping onto the parchment knowing that it is immediately being absorbed back into the magical journal. His first gift to me, stolen from somewhere deep in Karazhan. "For all of your dark thoughts" he said, of which I have had many. I named her Blavatsky, enjoying the tooled leather under my hands. I can still see his proud smile, giving a gift to the woman who threatened to kill him the night they met. He wormed his way into my life and eventually into the one thing I never thought I had. My heart.

"Well this is melancholy" I think to myself, staring around the room at my opulent surroundings. I took rooms at the Silvermoon City Inn, a place I had rummaged from my memories of Aeras. "The finest inn with a reputation for being discreet." Considering it was on a street named "Murder Row" I suppose so.

Amity was on her perch staring at me, knowing my pensive mood will not produce crackers. "You should have waited for a reply" I tell her. "He would have jotted one off quickly." She continued to stare, simply fluffing her feathers as if to say it wasn't a priority. I roll my eyes at her, knowing the bird is truly my only friend now if Ham doesn't reply. "He will", I tell myself. "He will, or I'll hunt him down, bloody Pandaren. He knows it and I know it."

I allow myself a small smile and then it leaves quickly. I hear the whispers again. I put my fingers to my temples, trying in vain to push them out. This isn't like Angelinne talking to me. This is like an invasive species demanding attention. Sometimes I'm unsure if it is truly the dead that come along with those whispers or if I've gone insane. "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different outcome" I remind myself. I don't do that.

Slowly, the whispers leave and my mental state returns to normal. Something to bring up with Varethuun, I suppose. Odd to think of having someone new in my life who knows more of me than I of them. I am obviously off my game and it makes me feel unsafe. Unbidden, tendrils of magic begin to flow from my fingers and I stop musing to pay attention. A habit I had trained into myself long ago to use my magic for scouting any area I was unfamiliar, I had to shake my own hands to make it stop. Off my game doesn't begin to cover where I am in life right now.

I finger the small locket at my neck, another unintentional habit, and it instantly calms me. I wonder sometimes if I am wrong. If there is any way Drex wouldn't have gone to Dalaran, but I know that is a wish and not truth. He would have taken Emily to the one place he had a cadre of mages to hide them, to protect them. How could he have known the entire city would explode? Explode, leaving me a widow. Leaving me childless. I grip the locket so hard it cuts my hand. I am glad I no longer heal automatically like I did when Angelinne was with me. I let the tiny cut bleed.

"I hate you" I say to the air. "Hate that you didn't believe me. Hate that you left me. HATE than you took her away from me. Thinking I was the unsafe one, you took her to the one place that was more dangerous than you could ever know. YOU KILLED HER" I nearly scream aloud. Amity squawks at me as if to say "Shut up, you fool!" I feel the sting of tears and I roughly wipe my eyes. This is getting me nowhere. I stand, shaking myself intentionally before going to the mirror. I stare at myself, feeling the link with the others, wondering if they felt the surge of emotion. I hoped not. I didn't wish my new compatriots to know my tragedy. They are not allies yet. Certainly not friends.

I must recreate myself in my old image. It served me well before and will do so again.

[vyvienne]

I learned not to trust people; I learned not to believe what they say but to watch what they do; I learned to suspect that anyone and everyone is capable of ‘living a lie’. I came to believe that other people - even when you think you know them well - are ultimately unknowable.

Lynn Barber (via quotemadness)

[vyvienne]

I am a woman built upon the wreckage of myself.

Chris Cleave (via quotemadness)

[vyvienne]

I’m so proud of everyone. No matter the storms we faced or the joys we our guild has been a reason for pride. I love you guys. This break is necessary for me, but I’m so happy to read this and so blessed to be part of ADA. 

A Year!

Holy shit I didn’t think this day would come. A year ago yesterday I walked to a rehearsal for The Magic Flute, around 6pm, using the Discord app on my phone to talk to ADA co-founder Vyvienne about name possibilities. It started as a joke. Something dumb along the lines of ‘Well our guild absolutely has to alliterate.’ There were… Options… and looking back, I should never be allowed to name things.

The charter was signed the next night at ~10pm. In character the agency was formed that night in the Shady Lady, over a beer, with the line “Wanna be a detective?”. For the next few weeks we would work out of the Shady Lady, until it was clear that we were going to need our own space. As any GM in Stormwind can tell you, finding a free space for your guild is a challenge. But somehow we rose to the challenge. Almost entirely by accident, we ended up in the Dwarven district, talking about how class trainers had been basically useless sense Cata. And… Well…

Home sweet home.

And we’ve been there ever sense. The furniture not so much.

We’ve been there ever since thanks to a couple of people. Our members, of course, but I’ll get to them in a minute.

BER! YES YOU BER!

 Bre was in Ashes with us in Ashes, and when we made the ADA we had two big worries. 

1. That Ham (Ashes GM and professional Ham-Ham) would be mad that we left, which we really didn’t want because we did and do and will always <3 him, and 2. That Bre would finally come back to the game, see the new guild, and be all “Nah I’m good” and then we’d miss her. Also abysmal failure was number 3 but that doesn’t seem worth mentioning. Thankfully the stars lined up and she hopped on board. 

She’s done too much for this guild to list it all here (I’ll embarrass her massively and do that in another post sometime) so I’ll just say this; Bre is the officer every guild master dreams of having. Creative, smart, fun and funny, like a ball of energy crackling with enthusiasm and “Let’s do stuff”-idness. We couldn’t do it without you, Bre, we literally could not.

YES PERCO BRACE FOR CREDIT. Because at this point he’s more than earned it. The amount of advice I’ve got from this one over the past year is insane. Every time there’s a problem I’ve not encountered before or when I’m in over my head and Bre isn’t there to be caps locked at it’s Percy who swoops in like the guardian angel he’s been and starts fixing shit. Looking for a quote to use like the screenshot above I noticed a trend in our conversations. A rough outline goes as follows; Me: FUCK IT I’M DONE Percy: Why are you done? Me: BECAUSE FUCK IT MAN Percy: You need a better reason than that. Me: ALRIGHT THAT’S A GOOD POINT Percy: Is your caps lock broken? Me: NO I JUST TAKE COMFORT IN BIG LETTERS I may have added that last bit but other than that it’s accurate. A better shoulder to cry on (or scream in admittedly impulsive rage on) doesn’t exist than this man. So thank you Percy, for the crises avoided, the challenges overcome, and the random silliness.

And last but not least in this list, the lady behind it all, Vyvienne. Vyv, this was all you. The foundation you set, the seeds you planted; this is what has come from it. The ADA would very literally not exist today without you. Your work, dedication, constant push for quality over quantity, and above all the care that you put into this even when you’re away are what make us what we are. Looking through the backlogs what stood out were the messages, usually between 3 and 8 am, along the lines of “I’ve got an idea!” or “oh! Oh!”. My co-gm never stops thinking about this guild, and it’s impossible to express how much of a blessing that is.

To the members of ADA: I can’t believe we did it. I literally refuse to believe that it’s actually happened. We’re a year old. And there aren’t any folk I’d rather have spent the year with. So to all the members of ADA now, whether you’ve been with us a year or an hour, and for all the members of ADA past, thank you for being the community that you are. For coming together like you do, playing like only you can, and making this year one I’ll never ever forget.

For any aspiring GMs who happen to read this, here’s some advice; Find a co-gm you adore, find an officer who’s like a sister, and a friend who can listen to you bitch without complaining. Then fill your guild with people you could happily spend all day with. Then spend all day with them.

@percy-von-gacy @squirrel-girl-breana @vyvienne

[vyvienne]

The Great Nyehehe: Redeemed

Good day, mortals!! The Great Nyehehe, the once villainous Immortal Warlock Lord and the most evil and powerful being in the entire universe, has seen the error of his vile ways!! Nevermore shall he twirl his malicious moustache, obliterate any mortal that opposed his nefariousness, or commit a deed as dastardly as snatching sugary treats from infants or walking on the grass despite the nearby sign’s demands not to. 

 His burning hatred and enviousness of the Light has faded away, leaving him to become a loyal and devout Paladin. Casting off the sins of his past and supercilious name, he has since renamed himself to “The Good Hohoho”. 

Rather than committing dastardly deeds and scheming up evil plots, The Good Hohoho will, henceforth, be seen helping little old ladies walk across the street..,

Feeding the homeless and destitute in Westfall..,

Holding one-on-one redemption classes for currently out-of-work demons..,

And, of course, praying to the Light at the Stormwind Cathedral. He will forever and always henceforth commit only undoubtedly righteous and good deeds and-

JUST KIDDING, MORTAL FOOLS!! 

Nyehehe!! You have been tricked, mortal fools!!

Tricked!! Bamboozled!! Schmeckledorfed!! 

Did you foolishly think the Great Nyehehe would be doing any of that goodie-two-shoes balderdash!?! Nyet!! Never!! The Great Nyehehe is a villain!! And the most evil, powerful, and fashionable one at that, so don’t you mortals forget it!!

Unhappy April Fools, mortal fools!! Nyehehe!!

[vyvienne]

Stormwind Traffic Report

By Suzi Snapshot

Today’s traffic brought to you by the Royal Courier, your first source of news in the city!

Suzi Snapshot reporting, flying high above the city in the news chopper. Lanes are mostly clear today save some congestion in front of the Pig, where it seems the City Guard is having a hard time rousing those who slept off last night’s drinking right there outside the bar. Things are quickly clearing out now though. I think they all went back inside once the Pig opened.

Over above the docks there is a special sight causing a bit of gawker delay.

An Alliance airship is flying just above the harbor, running launching drills it seems.  Smaller glider-style longboats (skyboats?) are being launched from the sides, as part of an evacuation drill. I got special permission to fly closer to photograph one of these skyboats in between drills.

Air traffic is naturally being routed around the harbor and ship traffic below is limited till the drills are completed. The gawker traffic along the shore is the biggest hassle and if you can avoid any overlook towards the docks, it would be best. Unless you are wanting to come watch. In that case, the area around the memorial is still fairly open and would provide the best vantage at present.

The rest of the city seems fairly quiet. An overturned toy cart on the bridge between the Cathedral district and Dwarven district caused a minor delay as children swarmed the scene. A runaway horse over in the mage district has been caught and returned to its hitch. Otherwise, foot traffic is moving smoothly.

There are no reported construction projects at present and the weather is expected to be fair for the rest of the day.

Suzi Snapshot signing off, since I’m about out of fuel! Safe travels!

[vyvienne]

[vyvienne]

“She made broken look beautiful, and strong look invincible. She walked with the universe on her shoulders and made it look like wings.” – Ariana Dancu

[vyvienne]

Honestly, I love my RP partner.

The Letter, Part 2

“Now, Recipient, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking ‘my gods man you said you would die if you didn’t get help can’t you shorten this letter honestly some of this seems downright willfully superfluous’. And Recipient this is probably not the first time I’ve told you this but you need to calm right the fuck down. Without an understanding of the basic facts, you won’t understand what’s going on and won’t be much of a help. I swear, people these days.

So. Shitbag McShitperson takes off with my bike. I vow revenge. REVENGE!!! Sorry but this still stings for me. I’m in Goldshire watching my bike being incompetently driven towards Westfall. Some of the more competent mages would have merrily blinked along after him but the last time I did that for an extended period of time I ended up in two places at once and that gives you a serious headache. Realizing that my bordering-on-useless-non-motorized human feet were no match for my beloved ride, the only option that remained to me was to hire a horse.

I’ve never liked horses. They’re big and smelly and they spit more than you’d think they do. One time one stole an apple out of my hand and I’ve had trust issues ever since. I realize it is wrong to blame a whole species for one malicious miscreant but there’s not much I can do. My grudges are beyond my control.

But nonetheless, a horse was needed. Spotting an approaching horseman I ran to him. I did my best to quickly explain the situation to him but he stopped me about a minute and a half in and told me to go fuck myself and that no I couldn’t have his horse.

Now I know full well that two wrongs don’t make a right. But these were desperate times and anyways I’d wanted to for a while. While I was pretty sure I was going to need it when I took it from the commander’s room a few months ago I had imagined it being in less dire circumstances. Heart racing with excitement I pressed my metaphorical big red button and whipped that thing out.

The gold shield glimmered in my hand, a symbol of authority, confidence, dedication, skill, bravery, singularity of purpose, and a drive to serve the citizens of Stormwind. I felt a swelling of pride on behalf of whosever badge this had been, and a smaller but still significant swelling of pride that I had had the foresight to nick it off them.

The horseman (is that really the word? I feel like it should be Horser but whatever) looked at it and then at me. Knowing full well that confidence is the trick to any deception I imitated the actions of this other guard I know and bellowed “Get off that horse you pig scrotum.” in my best official voice. Having either recognized me as an official of the crown or decided that he was dealing with an unpredictable maniac who may very well resort to violence next, and if I’m being whatever he decided doesn’t really matter much, he got down from his horse.

Quickly and heroically I mounted the beast without spending a solid minute and a half adjusting foot straps and getting myself situated. I cracked the reigns and I shouted ‘Onwards trusty steed!’ as I’ve heard you’re supposed to do in this situation. The horse broke into a canter and we were off to find my bike and my REVENGE!!!!

Hoof clattered on cobble underfoot and wind rushed by my ears, along with horse saliva. The branches overhead became a blur as the trees blended into one long tunnel of barkiness.While I realized the chase would take me away from home and work I was confident, then, that they would be fine without me. Some of them would be considerably better off.

I had missed this. The thrill of the chase. The way it clears your mind of the little things. Suddenly the world around you isn’t complicated, political, or challenging. Family, friends, it all melts away. The world becomes two things. Point A and point B. You are point A and you’re going to catch up to point B and have your REVENGE!!!.

As I rounded the bend down by the old garrison on the border of Westfall the horse slowed, probably winded at this point (which is another massive drawback to using horses without motors). I saluted my brothers in arms out on patrol, although looking back on it now I realize this was unnecessary as they didn’t think I was a guard what with not having a uniform and also having rid like a maniac through the forest in what I will admit was a very unprofessional way.

Approaching the bridge I noticed grooves in the side of the road as if a two-wheeled vehicle of some kind had driven through, by a wildly incompetent shitbag of a driver, at considerable speed and had briefly gone offroad. I was about to urge the horse onwards when I spotted the corpse laying on the bridge. A fear crept over me that my REVENGE!!! might require the help of a very skilled medium.”

@percy-von-gacy (for his guardiness)

[vyvienne]

The Letter, Part 1

Drexdan Lawrence, crimefighter, wrong righter, and occasional archmage of the Kirin Tor when he could be bothered to show up, looked around the remains of his Dalaran office. He took in the scorch marks, the bullet holes, the splattering of purple ink, the gently oscillating penguin clinging desperately to an enchanted broom. There was no doubt about it. This had got badly out of hand.

He needed help. But from who?

He decided that part could wait. Just explaining what happened would take some time. He grabbed a stack of paper and a pen, set them down on the half of his desk not currently occupied by sentient and irate grimoires, and got to work.

“Dear,” he began. He left the spot next to it blank to be filled in later. He looked at it. That seemed lazy. Crumpling up the first draft and tossing it over his shoulder, he formed the second draft.

“Dear Recipient,” much better.

“I know this will seem out of the blue. You haven’t heard from me in a while, probably. You may have forgot who I am. Just in case here’s a quick reminder. My name is Drexdan Lawrence. I’m a detective. And I need help or I might die.

Now that I’ve got your attention please allow me to explain.

It all started about a week ago. Winter had set in in the lands of Elwynn Forest and I was out taking in the beauty of nature. Some people say this is best done on a stroll but my wife Vyvienne once made the horrible mistake of purchasing a motorbike for me and let me tell you the beauty of nature is taken in MUCH faster from that. Anyways. As I was peacefully motoring along the road, traveling hopefully as one does and aware that every second wasted on the beauty of nature was a second I was not being useful in any way and internally regretting this greatly, I came to the town of Goldshire. It is very fortunate that I came to the town of Goldshire when I did as it was at this moment that I unintentionally and with little to no fault of my own violently struck a denizen of Goldshire with my vehicle. As I said it is fortunate we were in Goldshire as he was close to home and I imagine this was some comfort to him.”

“‘Ah, but I am close to home and will therefore not have to limp very far to find succor and assistance’ I imagined him thinking to himself as I examined the damage his body had done to my beloved bike.”

“While examining it without the eye of an engineer or even someone who readily knows the difference between steel and that other one you know the one that’s yellow but isn’t gold. Sort of orange. Not the point. As I was examining my bike with my amateur expertise, made up for as always by an avalanche of enthusiasm capable of plowing through just about any problem I’ve come across, a local youth approached.

Now, Recipient, I don’t know if you’re up to date on what’s going down in Stormwind these days, so here’s a quick summary: People have been drinking the canal water and are slowly going insane. While I have not tested this theory it is the only explanation I can find for the number of gangs and cults in the metropolitan area. Ominous names based on birds are also common. While this sounds strange, and admittedly is strange, it works better than you would think. Gangs are usually too busy fighting cults for either to get much done and the ones that are both gangs and cults, Galts as I like to call them, spend so much time trying to be both that they eventually just give up. And peace in Stormwind is preserved.

With these thoughts in mind, and absorbed in the contemplation of a bird name for myself (possibly Baron Emu, I still haven’t decided. Honestly everyone has a bird name. It’s got out of hand. I’ve considered opening a night class about other kinds of animals that exist.) I was caught completely by surprise when the rambunctious youth hopped on my motorbike and drove away.

Watching the bike fade into the distance I made a decision there and then. I decided I would pursue that shitbag to the ends of the gods damned earth, get my bike back, and ride it mockingly around his bruised and broken body. In retrospect, the one-man crusade that followed MAY have been an overreaction.”