mongoose-enchant

[mongoose-enchant]

Throbbing has reached his ears and the world around him sounded more like the rhythm of his own heart than the onslaught of battle.

Bosco had shouted something just now. His voice was as large as he was but as for the content of his words, that was lost. Senkrads was only able to tell as the vibrations reached him. Was his war cry that loud? Or had Senkrads become that weak? He looked at his hand. It should have been wielding his warhammer but through the offensive it had become lost. Instead it had been replaced by blood, his own. It stained his gauntlet blue. His side was open and an arrow pocked his shoulder.

It didn’t hurt.

And that scared him.

He fought through the numbness and reached out to channel his connection to the Light. A stream of light bolted from his palm. Bosco had unleashed his ordnance against many but this one within the group withstood him. His smite was brilliant. A yellow crescent slice, with a white-hot the center, accompanied by streaks of blue, and orange. This display, no doubt, marking Senkrads as a target. The attacker recoiled, staggered, and then returned to his stance of charging right at the group, only now with Senkrads as the focus. It lunged. Senkrads had placed his shield between the two in time but there was no power behind it. He was drained from his wounds and the exertion was only progressing his blood loss further.

Senkrads was on the ground now, thrown a few feet back. The attacker didn’t come finish him off, not yet at least. Perhaps another member of the Sha’tor had finished it off, and they would soon notice his absence and find him splayed out on the ground. Maybe it had diverted it’s attention elsewhere, thinking him as dead? What if he were to die? Senkrads couldn’t escape these thoughts just as he couldn’t escape the position he was in. It hurt. It hurt far too much to move.

Could he accept dying here? His life was full, after all he had done so much with it, and even now he wouldn’t consider it to be in vain. He had saved lives, innocent lives. He hoped it was enough. Almost pleading to himself that no others had to fall. Names and faces flashed passed him. Skepna. Protect her. Eiridiel, Orynthia, Ishdra, Khaamara. Protect them. He continued to name others to himself. So many to think of. Those of his conclave, those of the other conclaves. Those under the protection of this Order. He was so new to the Sha’tor but he could see their valor. Their importance. To whatever force was looming above, against them: Please, don’t take more. He was enough.

Was there anything now he could do to keep them safe he wondered? Again he stirred attempting to get up. He wasn’t ready to lay down and die just yet, even if he had accepted his end. He failed, and failed again, and then failed a third time. There would be no returning to his hooves. The Sha’tor would either win, here and today, and maybe catch Senkrads threads away from dying or they would finish the evacuation and retreat themselves. Would they be safe then? What if they were found while licking their wounds and seeing to the sick? Senkrads was pulled to a memory between him and the Exarch. If he were ever to be compromised… Senkrads shifted his weight and unlatched his shield from his hand. It was the only one with any strength left. He held tightly his comms crystal in his and squeezed. He put more and more pressure on the device, wanting it to crack or shatter or anything! If taken they would listen in, or even be used to track other crystals.

Unfortunately his attempts were put to an end. A volley of suffering and pain struck the area that the Sha’tor had been protecting. Senkrads were not asked to endure any more. His life ceased and Senkrads drew in no more breaths, only exhaling his last. The light in his eyes faded away.

…

……

………

Like a cicada grown too large for its shell. His soul emerges shedding free from his coiled form. It pulled away from the lifeless husk and drifted from it. Each tug from the tethers that bind the two together rip causing the body to spasm and shutter. When the last cord of connection breaks, now it was the spirit that shakes and convulses. Also like the nocturnal insect, when this happens he wanted to scream. Nothing sounded. He had emotions with no vent. Pain with no release. He knew what was transpiring now to his soul, to himself, was by some deviant matter, the what’s and why’s still alien to him. Just that he knew he wasn’t alone in his act. There were others in the mist of souls, others who felt familiar. And others who Senkrads could feel were the conductors of this orchestra. However he wouldn’t have this feeling for much longer. His thoughts, and his feelings, and anything and everything left faded. Away into an unending pitch black darkness.

[mongoose-enchant]

@star-spire

The path ahead was scattered with the leftovers of war. A battle had broken loose and the carnage of it laid scattered. Senkrads studied the wreckage trying to determine who walked away as the victor, puzzling away at what might be ahead of him. His surveying of the area caused a discovery of a person, a casualty from the previous scene. She must have been forgotten when they were reclaiming their dead and now found rest in a small pocket of foilage. Senkrads wasn't proficient at dictating the difference between the Kal’dorei and their different heritages but the garb, a dress not druid-like or priest-like, gave him reason to believe she was of the more arcane attuned Highborne, likely also a practitioner of the magical arts.

She was tall, likely just under six and a half feet. It would be easier to tell had she not been left to lay here, crumpled in the dirt. Senkrads could tell she was also young. Her hair white, reaching past her shoulders. She had been holding her side when he found her.

"I'm sorry, lost fawn. Your story shouldn't have ended here. Rest well."

Senkrads placed his hand over her forehead and channeled holy light into her, hoping to giving some guidance in the afterlife.

He had decided to move the body so she looked more natural, as if sleeping, and to clean away the dirt from her face. She had a small scar over her lip he noticed and found it mildly amusing. Some oddly common ground between them, he humored about, as he idly rubbed his own lip wound.

He respectfully searched the body for personal effects. A small plain leather bound journal was found. It wasn't for him to read of course but eventually he would open it to find a name. From there he could find the next of kin or possibly a loved one to pass it along to.

He said his goodbyes and went on.

[mongoose-enchant]

heres some moody screenshots of the four i’ll likely be taking into bfa

[mongoose-enchant]

A edit commission I finished for @mikerads for today’s warm up! It was fun messing around with light stuff! :D I LOVE DOING THESE EDITS BTW.

[mongoose-enchant]

Draecember - Day 7

The crackling expression of Fire. The whispering words of wind. The endless babble of water. The resolute, yet sparse say of earth.

Senkrads knew these Elements had a voice. Feelings? Unsure, but defiantly interests. He had seen them take physical form, well, as physical as a gust of wind could get. They traveled from their realm. Sometimes summoned, sometimes escaped.

Something nipped at his ear, and he *knew* it to be them. Days were spent trying to answer back. Spare hours lost to meditation. He was not alone in this endeavor. His people were a community. Senkrads reached out to them, seeking aid. The elders of the circle had much more important duties to attend to than train the uninitiated, so most of the help came from other fresh faces, shamans who just entered the ranks themselves.

Tips, training, exercises. Nothing fell onto deaf ears. Even the suggestion to physically embrace Azeroth’s central four was taken. That scene ended poorly with a very mud covered, burn poxed, wind-blown Senkrads, and the notion that he might never ascend.

His aspirations of becoming one who communed with the Elements ended shortly after. Frustrated with meditating, he set off. Senkrads scaled a cliff side, one of his favorite activities back on Draenor. When he heard nothing, felt nothing, he quit.

Senkrads wasn’t bitter over this exchange. He had gained friends within the circle. Meditation came easier to him. His mind was more fit. More importantly, the Element didn’t *owe* him. Senkrads would reflect often on *why* this outcome, but never found a satisfying answer.

Draecember: Day 7 - Feeling Left Out

[mongoose-enchant]

Draecember - Day 6

Daggers cared little for armor. Directly against it; completely useless, but since when were thieves and rogues ever straightforward? Armor had its openings, areas of oversight, and this wretched demon had lunged for one in Senkrads’ plating.

Initiative favored the foe. Already in his personal space, the tip came dangerously close. There were no thoughts or planning, only pure instinct caused Senkrads to jerk his shield arm in the way. To late to catch the blade with it but in time to strike the arm of the assailant. Their arm buckled under the force, causing the blade to redirect. Harmlessly it struck as steel clashed with steel. No blood to be drawn, yet.

This demon, still disguised as an allied Kaldorei, saw Senkrads come back with a counter and push away just in time. The Hammer left a trail of white radiant rage behind it. Sneak attacks where maybe one of the quickest ways to piss off Senkrads. He would smite through the assassin for this attempt.

So much hunting, so much investigation. Precious time spent looking for this sulking murder? Senkrads’ tail flicked with unchanneled aggression. It really shouldn’t have been such a shock. The Burning Legion and those affiliated were known for their subterfuge.

So why was it such a revelation? Signs had pointed to this impersonator before. But when Senkrads pushed farther with his examinations the clues would diverge away from them. He hated the idea of titling this fiend with the label of ‘Mastermind’, but was that really the answer?

Senkrads matched steps with his opponent. He just wasn’t ready to engage yet. There was a bigger puzzle to be solved, he knew it! They circled the area of battle. The demon shifted the dagger from right hand to left, then back, while Senkrads relaxed his grip on his hammer and readjusted.

So much had happened in an instant, and added with how sly this demon continued to be, Senkrads nearly missed the showing of a trap. Every time his judgment would turn to this seemingly normal Kaldorei another would turn over some new evidence. Always a new path to follow. There was a collaborator. The Marksman! Were they too were shifting their appearance and misleading him?

Almost as if to answer and prove him right, two bolts soar through the sky. Senkrads was ready this time. He again moved his shield, catching one and deflecting the other. Senkrads then waited, expecting the other to attack simultaneously. His hypothesis paid in full as the assassin traveled through the shadows and appeared before him.

The demon’s weapon was cocked, ready to attack, but so was Senkrads and his hammer. Senkrads wasn’t look for damage. His goals strictly asked to tilt the demon, push their balance off. It wasn’t much more than a glancing blow but at least now the demon knew the taste of holy steel.

Again the demon pushed away. Senkrads had revealed their hand faster than they wanted but they still had numbers over him.

TO BE CONTINUED. . .

Draecember: Day 6 - On a Mission

[mongoose-enchant]

Draecember - Day 5

How could a world have a song? Draenor was lively, yes, but nothing compared to this. The water, the air... it moved. Draenor seas and sky weren’t still, not all, but they always felt like they moved only because they moved. Nothing more, nothing less. Almost factual. What other reason would there be for waves to form and breeze to blow? Here, on Azeroth, they had passion and reason. They acted with playful purpose.

Senkrads wish he had the time to simply indulge in the spectacle of this new world. The whisper, the lovely melody of Azeroth, wanted him to as well. But no, not while people, his people, needed able bodies. Too many were hurt from the crash landing of The Exodar.

For now Senkrads, delegated his time to supply running. Amman Vale had set up a temporary housing for those hurt but not critically so, and Azure Watch stood as a half way point between the Vale and the The Exodar.

Things were a mess. There would be dead to tend to eventually, and there people were still lost and displaced. These current events should have painted everything grim, dark, and foreboding. But fellow Draenei wore smiles. Tired, weary, honest smiles.

This was likely due to the land not taking immediate advantage over their misfortune. On Draenor, ravenous, blood crazy animals would have stalked half the survivors to death, while the other half suffered from mind altering fungal spore which rotted brains. Much had tested the meddle of his kind. Each challenge, be it, demons, Orcs, or the wilds themselves, took it’s toll.

Azeroth had her own quirks and still would tax the Draenei in other unique ways, but Senkrads knew this could be his new home. A world he wouldn’t dare flee from. It was evident with his very first comment about her.

“I love the smell of this air.”

Draecember: Day 5 - Discovering A New Place

[mongoose-enchant]

Draecember - Day 4

It was night time now. Street traffic had slowed and became sparse while corner stand owners packed up. It was only the cool air and distant tavern music that gave Senkrads his company. Occasionally a passerby would come along but never anyone he knew. Most carried a brisk pace with them, likely wanting to return to home. They disappeared from sight, then from mind.

Senkrads wouldn’t be sitting alone for long. There were plans for an special outing with another and she should be nearing soon.

He idled with his time. The city of Dalaran was enough entertainment on it’s own to allow minutes to pass without notice. His sight wasn’t fixated on any one thing, just bouncing from structure to structure. His gaze found it’s way to the walkway under him. The arrangement and pattern of the stone was of high craft, but he did wonder if it was all masonry or if illusion magic found it’s way into this aspect of Dalaran as well.

A chill ran along his spine. The air was cold, but not cold enough to do that. Senkrads puzzled at the source only to conclude that the memory of Northrend had found a way to bind itself to this particular detail of Dalaran.

Back then, he was surrounded by the undead. Granted, not much has changed since then, only the faces and names of the enemy. How depressing. This wasn’t the state of mind he wanted just before a date! Senrkads looked around, searching for something to erase the sudden appearance of Northrend.

His mind answered. Senkrads recalled an incident between him and a commissioner. This happened quite sometime ago here in Dalaran. A simple enough request; a gem for the new pair of pants this person had looted. Being a warrior, one who favored a big two handed weapon, wanted a very bold looking ruby. The type of cut and finish would easily aid in the desire for more strength. Only... they wouldn’t shut up enough for him to work. By the time Senkrads had finished he had mistakenly crafted something of a more delicate design. He wasn’t the best judge of someone’s intelligence and couldn’t be sure if the warrior would notice. Senkrads didn’t want bad word of mouth to get out to the public so he did what he thought was best. With a little bit of dust left over from a previous enchantment commission he simply caused the gemstone to appear ‘bold’. The warrior accepted the work, didn’t tip, changed in front of him, then ran off.

The warrior didn’t make it far before tripping on a loose rock. Senkrads swore it was due to his newly found agility that the warrior didn’t face plant right there in front of him. He turned, smiled, gave a thumbs up, before continuing on his run.

Recalling this memory had Set Senkrads off into a full on titter. In the moment, the humor was lost on him. But now? Realizing he had gotten away with it? It took the realization that he wasn’t alone any more for him to stop. “By the light,” he said between chuckles, “I am- I am so sorry!”

Draecember: Day 4 - A Memory

[mongoose-enchant]

Draecember - Day 3

Light struck the gem, giving it the appearance of false life. The way the many facets captured, bounced, and redirected the workshop lamp caused this illusion. Senkrads peered closer, craning his neck to do so. His breath caught the magnifying lens he was using causing it to fog, reminding him to move the stone, not himself. The haze faded and he readjusted. He was no expert jeweler. He could have been, easily, had he not been so unwieldy as a youngling. His mother tried many a time to be his tutor. She had arts and trades carried over from her days on Argus. Senkrads often thought of her when he crafted. The opportunities he missed, the culture lost from his negligence.

He turned over the gem with his mithril tweezers. His cut was passable, but no doubt sloppy. “Nothing a little illusion enchantment can’t fix up, right?” he said to no one. “...Or maybe I’ll just leave it as is.” Again he thought of his mother. One of her first lessons was about working with your mistakes. Sometimes you course correct. Others you start over. But there are even times you let your errors live on as proof that nothing is quite perfect.

He carried his tiny payload to the setting. This time; a ring. The brassy bronze complimented the green gem well. The loop was actually two bands made to look like bark that twisted together. The item wasn’t wholly self inspired. It was reminiscent of the necklace his mother wore, the first bit a jewelry she crafted upon arriving on Draenor. The where abouts of that necklace, if it even still existed, was unknown. She, along with his father, perished on Draenor, before the Exodar’s departure. Senkrads could only take solace in the fact that they would not have to grieve for each other.

Perhaps next he would make something for his father as well?

Draecember: Day 3 - Losing Something/Someone Very Important

[mongoose-enchant]

Draecember - Day 2

While the other races still complained about the constant humming, Senkrads found it to be a reminder of home. The Vindicaar made for a good stand-in for the Exodar. From the architecture to the ambiance, it mimicked the old ship well. Sure, the Vindicaar lacked in it’s sheer size, but here was no less safe. The thrum was an aura of peace and protection in auditory form.

Senkrads often roamed the halls in his off duty hours. He found himself doing exactly that now. The layout just made sense to him, as it would to any Draenei.

Senkrads wondering came to a stop. The set of stairs before him lead up, into the observation room. He didn’t need to take them to see what he wanted, though. Azeroth. The ever constant reminder why we risk our lives while fighting on the surface of Argus. Truly a jewel in the sky.

The window stretched high, high up above, and as Senkrads marveled at the planet, a shadow suddenly loomed over. Legion command ships. At first it was just one, then two. They cut through the sky above like a dagger. Black and poisonous. They were ruiners of everything, and even now their presents alone sullied the visage.

Fortunately, they poised no danger to the Vindicaar this moment. The command ships were too far up for any substantial attack and anything long range would be taken care by the ship’s shielding. They were likely avoiding the Vindicaar all together and heading to aid ground forces.

Senkrads swore, then walked the path up. He would return to active duty, reinvigorate with new a freshly ignited fire in his soul.

Draecember: Day 2 - Traveling Aboard A Trans-Dimensional Ship

[mongoose-enchant]

Draecember - Day 1

Perhaps it was time. After such a long wait the idea seemed strange. Strange that today, unremarkable as it was, would be the day he read it. Senkrads opened his pack. He felt no pressure or hurry. Honestly, he waited for something- anything to stop him. Expecting that thing to prove to him that, no, today would not be the day.

He flipped it over. Blank, featureless, a plain yellowish-white envelope. Nothing telling who it was for or who it was from. Senkrads turned it over again. The flap met a point and was garnished at it’s tip with an olive green seal. He remembered watching the wax being poured and pressed. After, the person who had sealed it told him that it was enchanted. It wouldn’t come undone by mistake. There would have to be a person to open it and that the person would have break the seal with purpose. He was also told that the letter and the contents inside were weather proof, easing his mind during his travels with it. Senkrads huffed a bit of laughter. “Perhaps they knew I would not be reading this for *quite* awhile.”

His thumb ran under the lip of the flap. This was no Winter’s Veil gift, something to be torn asunder to reveal the present inside. This was acceptance letter to a Mage’s collage. A letter of promotion, alerting you of your new rank and title. Mail from your elders, sending a message of warm tidings. Senkrads opened this letter as if it were any one of those things. It was beyond satisfy how cleanly the seal came off.

Senkrads pulled the neatly trifolded parchment from the envelope. The neatness, he discovered, ended with the folding. The penmanship was sloppy but at least forgivable. He knew why too.

“Senkrads,

I suppose if you are reading this, then all is well. That is what we agreed upon, correct? The pain is gone?- Or at least manageable? Unnoticeable? I pray you still have the damn thing.”

He paused and inspected his dominate hand, the right one. It was sickly in color, tainted by shadow and void, but as he rolled his wrist he felt no sharp pains or discomfort. Indeed, at least for today, the aching was absent.

“It hurts. It keeps me up most night with the pain and agony. It feels... alive. Like a parasite that refuses to leave it’s host. It gnaws at me. But not just at my flesh but my mind too. The nights I do sleep I feel trapped with it.

You know of the lengths I have went to mend this. You know. But it still persist.”

Senkrads noticed how many times the writer stops mid-sentence, sometimes mid-word.

“I have been asked to write this. For both our sakes.

The idea is that I can put my hope and faith into a time where this is not our life. Please, please, open this one day. On any day you aren’t tormented by this curse. When the pain is manageable, and not controlling. I don’t need it to be soon, just for it to happen. Please.

Till then . . . With much love, keep us alive, -Senkrads”

Draecember: Day 1 - A Letter to Someone

[mongoose-enchant]

“...but I have come to understand their love.” -Senkrads during his pilgrimage home.

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[mongoose-enchant]

“...is a planet of death.” -Senkrads upon seeing Argus for the first time.

[click each picture for the full caption!]

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