#Sunguard Writing Challenge

[thenaaru]

DAY THIRTY ONE: What has ended recently in your character's life, or what new thing has just begun?

[musical accompaniment]

“...I want you- and I want to know you.”

Kalyanar’s voice was barely a whisper, low as he met her eyes. Not a trace of doubt on his face, or in his tone. Trembling fingers curled around his neck into deep red hair, a moment of hesitation before she leant in, lips barely touching his in seeking, asking brushes. Every single piece of her was his, her heavens and oceans laid bare for him to see. He treated her so softly, his touch cool against the flush on her skin and taught her things she had never known to exist. His gravity was all consuming, his every kiss pulling her further under.

“You have me.”

The darkness then had been intimate, the words on his breath drawing them closer together until they were flush. Neither of them had had the courage to put the feeling between them to words then and they had gone unspoken.

The darkness now was terrifying; within it it illuminated all her doubts, her fears. She missed the sight of his bright green eyes, of his handsome face and the smattering of freckles over his nose. The way he looked at her with things they couldn’t yet say. Things she would never see again.

If she could have seen his regret now it would only have broken her further. He should have told her.

“I miss you.”

Wordlessly, he pulled her in against his chest and held her tight. In his arms, Avie clutched at his shirt and refused to let her pain overwhelm her again; she would let his light chase away her shadows.

“Don’t let go.”

Heart and soul she was his, with him she would step into a great unknown. It frightened her, to lay herself so bare to him, left her trembling as she reached up to place a hand on his cheek. It was so hard to both know what she felt and not understand it. Kalyanar delicately unfurled her fingers from the fabric at his chest, laying them smooth against his shoulder and his own over them. With his other arm hooked securely around her waist, he pressed her forehead to hers and for a moment they just breathed the same air together.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

White-blind eyes turned up to him searchingly, confessions on her tongue that refused to settle in the space between them. As if he understood, Kalyanar squeezed her closer and closed his eyes. It was too much to tell her now; she was too fragile to face the rawness of the words should they be spoken aloud.

“I meant what I said.”

His words soothed her and she lay her head upon his chest, listening to his steady and sure heartbeat. When exactly they had become something more than friends she wasn’t sure, but somewhere along the way they had begun something new. The thought rekindled the fire in her chest for him, flames that had been quiet since her world had gone dark suddenly bursting back into life and with that, Avie wasn’t so afraid anymore.

@edaigoa

[theislesunfamily]

I

Write a diary entry for your character, dated 10 years in the future

They find it on his desk.

A small crystal, perhaps the size of a person’s hand, resting atop the wood.

At first glance, it seems nothing more than a bauble the color of a clear summer sky. Jagged in some edges, there’s no doubt it holds a reflection, a trait or two, of its owner. Touching or holding the bauble appears to activate it.

There’s a buzzing sound, and then a voice emanates from the crystal itself.

This… this thing is on, right?

[Sound registered: poking a finger against glass]

Damn, I’ll be. Thing actually works.

I told… hold on… at first, I thought this was going to be an awful idea. But now using this thing? Getting a chance to test it out? It’s not too bad. Here, let me try something for-

The transmission ends, but only for a few moments, before it springs back to life.

There’s no image, only audio.

A voice, gravelly and low, which unmistakably belongs to one Ithanar Islesun.

Dear Diary? No. That won’t do. Hold on.

The transmission ends again. A few seconds pass, and then it buzzes alive.

Hello. No, fuck, I- oh, screw it.

[Sound registered:  a growl, annoyed]

It’s been a long day.

Not that it’s bad it has been.

A long… good day, if that makes any sense.

Sent out letters in the morning. Worked on some possible rune patterns for Thanidiel. Something about a gift for… well, who knows if Bricini will get hold of this thing. Wasn’t sure if it’s a surprise. Light, let’s hope… no, no, I shouldn’t worry about it.

What else happened? Training, discussions, a meeting about pockets of activity in certain places of importance. I’ll keep that under wraps, brief, just in case this ever does fall into the wrong hands. Not that it will. We’re rather safe, secluded here almost. The passes are hard to get through during the winter, and we’ve enough staff that…

Well, I’m not worried about it.

Haven’t exactly been for ten years.

Some things have become more simple. Others a bit more complicated.

I’m in a better place than I once was. Quiet, stable… not nearly drinking as much. A glass of red wine a night? Maybe something a little harder here or there when Faervell comes by.

But… there’s a lot to do.

Need to catch up with Elleynah and Zalin and… well, you know. See how Qeren is, how Avie and Kalyanar are doing. There’s so many people to check in on.

It may sound like I’m complaining. Probably does.

But deep down? It’s a good feeling. To have people who depend on me, and in turn depend upon them. It’s… refreshing is the word? That’s what I might call it. I-

[Sound registered: a child’s wail]

Ah, damn it. [Unintelligible] woke up. Where’s-?

The transmission ends here.

Contains mention of characters belonging to @stormandozone, @curiouslich @thanidiel, @jessipalooza, @pyrar, @thenaaru, @edaigoa, & @entropytea

[alestra-kai-rp]

DAY 1

Day 1: Write a diary entry for your character, dated 10 years in the future.

April 10th 11th Renae turned 15 today, can’t believe how much she’s grown. Most days I still feel like she’s my little sister or niece or something half the time, I'm stuck felling like a kid myself when surrounded by all those council official types. Stuffy pricks. Anyway the party was good! Mum hired the band from mine & Mals anniversary party. Me and the wife might have gotten a little friendly with the bassist afterward...Speaking of Mal, she got a little too drunk again but at this point no ones surprised, kept telling Cel how good a mum she was and then slipped up the stairs, probably have a bruise by tomorrow, I swear I'm looking after 2 kids half the time. Myrlath got Renae a knife for her birthday, mum wasn’t best pleased about that but I’m glad Myrs taken a shine to the kid. I think we made the right choice naming her godmother. Can’t believe how we used to constantly butt heads and now she’s showing up every over month with presents. Still butting heads with everyone to be fair but... Aernath and his hubbies got back from Stranglethorn, spent a month visiting Threads’ old village & Lorarrin apparently did some future-sight ritual with the witchdoctor, said it was full of good signs and prosperity but I couldn’t make heads nor tails of it. Mums set the wedding date for Autumn, in time with the 5th anniversary of getting engaged to Rhea. Says it’ll just be a small event but I’m not sure she knows the meaning of the word. Caterers have already been booked for 300 guests… Light save me. Anyways, keeping this entry short, Mals down at the stables teaching the kid how to fight. Gotta make sure my wife comes back in one piece. Cya!

[ryther-writes]

SWC: Day 2

Write about something presently in your character’s life that is “worth it”.

“Well, what is it?”

The bartender had been pressing the question for a long while to Eran’thul, and he had always had a way to dodge it, a way to not answer such a personal question that came from a stranger.

Isn’t that what they’re supposed to be? Not my friend, but not a complete stranger either. A friendly stranger.

He wanted to tell the bartender off, to tell him that he shouldn’t be asking such questions of the half-elf. But he also knew that he could easily be cut off if he was so rude, and the night was still young. He had only had a glass or two of rum, and he wanted at least one or two more. The Dawnmender huffed, taking the last drink of the current glass he had. He raised his hand and pointed at the bottle that lay on the bar, but the bartender shook his head.

“I won’t be giving you another drink until you give me a straight answer. I promise I’ll leave you alone the rest of the night if you do.”

“That’s not very professional of you.” He shot back angrily. “I’m just here to relax for one single hour from all the chaos around me, but even in here I cannot find peace it seems.”

The bartender dared to laugh at Eran’thul’s words, shaking his head. “You think you can find peace here? I didn’t take you for a blind man. Look around you for a moment, and tell me if you think this is peace?”

And so the Paladin looked all around him, at the patrons, some who appeared to be shaken up, likely trying to destress from the situations they faced in recent times, while others kept their heads low and shot angry gazes at Eran’thul when he set his eyes on them. And still there were others who were drunk and merry, laughing and hollering with other folk, some of whom appeared to be embarrassed with the behavior of the company they had on this night. He then looked around at the bar itself, which appeared to be rather old at this point. Defaced and repainted several times over was the logo of the bar as well as various other symbols such as the Blood Knight sigil and the sigil of Quel’thalas itself. It was dirty, but not overtly so that it was disgusting. A perfect place for a cheap drink, which was what the half-elf had been aiming for. The bartender leaned forward onto the bar itself, shrugging at the Eran’thul.

“There’s no peace to be found here, friend. An escape, perhaps, but not one that I would consider very peaceful.”

Eran’thul turned back to face the bartender, a frown on his face.

“Perhaps not, but what’s the point of all this anyways? Surely you must have something better to do than ask someone who you barely know such deep questions at this time of night.”

The bartender laughed once more at Eran’thul. “You are the sole person who chose up to sit at this bar, and yet you share something in common with the rest of the patrons who aren’t as bold to do such a thing. You have something that’s worth it in your life. If you did not, you wouldn’t be in this bar at all, drinking some cheap alcohol at this time of night. You wouldn’t wake up every day to the chaos that surrounds your life. So what is it that’s worth it to you, that which keeps you going on a day-by-day basis?”

The Dawnmender gave a frustrated sigh, and he found himself in a state of faint disbelief as he actually found himself thinking over the question finally. Contemplation was a rare state for the Dawnmender, he didn’t try to get very sentimental with people. Not because of his dislike for them, but because he wanted to make sure there was still a sense of respect between them and those he interacted with professionally. Such was a hard thing to do once in a while, but generally it was easy for him these days to put that barrier between him and others.

Be friendly, but don’t be their friend.

An early lesson taught by his father, and one that he never truly forgot.

His mind raced with the things he valued. His talents, the talented people he managed to surround himself with, the money...but those were quick, entering his mind one second and then leaving the next. One item stayed for longer than the others, and even though he tried to pass it to think of another item, it returned time and time again. That which allowed some who knew him to consider him reliable, professional, and a valued voice. Yet something that others considered him rude, disrespectful, and a general nuisance. It was what enabled some to call him “honest”, while others referred to him as “asshole”. Something that scared him at times, like when Rainwood had brought around the idea that there might be others with powers beyond his dreams that were half-elves themselves, but the curiosity of it all drove him to edge closer to it despite his fear.

The fear of the truth.

And the truth, he realized, is what he valued most in life. It wasn’t until there was a solid knock on the bar that his attention returned to the bartender, and the bartender opened his arms up some.

“Well, what is it? You don’t have too much time to think it over.”

Eran’thul hesitated, licking his lips a few times and tapping his foot lightly against the stool. The answer was on the tip of his tongue, which only frustrated the Dawnmender.

Say it.

“Duty. My duty is what’s worth it to me.”

The bartender was still for a moment, and then he gave a nod of approval to the answer. “See? Wasn’t so hard. What was it that you wanted again? The rum from Booty Bay, right?”

“Aye. And make it on the rocks, too.”

Keep running from it. One day, you’ll find it.

( @azriah for brief ment.)

[thegoldenkraken]

SWC #9: Tundra

She sighed, her breath instantly visible.

Why'd it have to be so cold?

Pulling her fur-lined cloak closer, she stared out across the rolling tundra. It was barely visible, winter locking the land in semi-darkness.

I envy those on the other side of this forsaken continent. At least they could see the sun.

The Horde had been generous and thorough in their preparations to invade Northrend. They knew how to wage war no matter the environment. She glanced over to her partner for this side of the outpost, a friendly orc. Thranna noticed her look and gave her a wave. A warm smile, melting the cold atop the outpost.

It wasn't all bad, at least.

[swingbeard]

Sayonara

I wasn’t intending on writing a long post or anything.

But it just didn’t feel right, even if I feel like I’ve been overemoting a little bit lately on Tumblr. In a case like this, it’s best to go against your instincts, your anxieties, and just say how you feel. 

After nearly three years with the Sunguard, things come to an end this evening as the guild closes its doors. When I look back on where I was in December 2016, I didn’t see myself becoming this invested. I thought I’d become someone who stayed near the boundaries, went to a guild event here and there, and participated in the chatter.

Hey, maybe I’d make some friends along the way? 

What ended up happening was something I didn’t foresee. I was drawn in by the stories put together by the guild members and felt a creative spark I really hadn’t in quite a long time. I found some really great friends, people who I could spend time with and come to trust and love. 

A big shoutout goes to the officer core: @felthier, @azriah, @stormandozone, @jessipalooza, @cynfuldax, @sakialyn, @curiouslich,& @forever-afk. 

Thank you for not just being great leaders and officers, but also for being a friend. You took a shot on me, and it means so much.

There’s a lot of people here I could tag, but I’ll just put out a general thank you for your kindness, sincerity, stellar creativity, and your friendship most importantly. We’ve conquered some great challenges whether as a raid team or in roll20 events, and I appreciate all the minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months. 

Here’s to the Sunguard. 

Here’s to whatever comes next, and here’s to each and every one of you. 

@thesunguardmg

[starcunning]

XVII. Untouchable

17th: Share the last thing your character got genuinely excited about.

Not not canon, anyway.

Light behind his eyes woke him, and Wystan groaned, throwing his arm up across his brow. For a moment, he missed the fog and dim of Spectre—but only for a moment. Memory flooded him, chasing out sleep, and he remembered enough that when he opened his eyes, nothing surprised him.

Almost nothing, Wystan amended. Eleena Koi—taskmistress, trainer, and the only other Untouchable on the ship—was propped up with pillows, reclining against the headboard. A corner of the coverlet had been half-pulled over her lap; her bare knees poked up so she could lean a data-slate against them.

“G’morning, sleepyhead,” she greeted him. She lifted a hand to untwist one of the straps of her camisole. “Morning,” he croaked back. Eleena stretched out her arm, retrieving a glass of water from the nightstand. He drained it greedily, and had to dry-swallow the analgesics she passed him a moment later. “You kept those back just to spite me,” he accused, but he smiled up at her as he said it. “Oh, I did not,” she insisted. She ran a hand through her hair, exasperated. The passage of her fingers left her close-cropped brown locks all askew.

By habit, he patted at his breast pocket, and touched only bare skin. She rolled her eyes, fishing a lho-stick from the crumpled pack on the nightstand. She lit it for him, making disapproving noises all the while. “Never going to improve your lap times like this, you know,” she scolded. Her full lips twisted in not the smirk he expected, but a smile. He took a long drag and let the smoke plume out his nostrils, and then he laughed. “I was trying to buy myself a second, come up with something really very clever about lap times, but …” “But that part of your brain isn't what anyone on this ship is interested in,” Eleena said. There was a sort of softness in her voice. “Brains aren't usually what gets me waking up next to pretty girls anyway,” Wystan pointed out. She shook her head: “I didn't sleep here.” Eleena turned back toward her dataslate.

The light glinted off her limiter like some kind of perverse halo; the reminder of its existence brought a phantom pain to Wystan's own temples. He lifted a hand to run it along the metal, body-warm, that encircled his own skull. He reached past her to tap his ashes into an overflowing tray. “What are you reading?” he asked at length. “Your next briefing?” Eleena laughed. She had a wonderful laugh, and it filled the antiseptic space of the room. “Not even close,” she said. “Well if it's not Secret Inquisition Business, you can share,” he pressed. “No!" she squealed. “Go back to sleep. You were cuter then.” He leaned in, discarding the butt of his lho-stick. His cheek grazed her shoulder. She made no move to shrug him off before he withdrew. A moment later, she listed slightly to one side, her arm pressing to his. Her skin was warm and soft, though the exercise she was always ordering him to join her in meant she was anything but pliant. He didn't dare move for a long while.

In the bright light of the ship's wake cycle, he had to squint to make out the screen. “‘Her thighs went rigid and her ankles locked tighter around his waist as her body convulsed in deep, milking clasps on his manhood.’ Mamzel Koi,” he read, laughter overtaking him. “I had no idea you read—” “Terran classical literature?” she cut in, forestalling his own description. “It's pre-Unification.” “That's not why you read it,” he said. Fascinated now, he reached out to pluck the slate from her hand, lips moving as he continued to skim the lurid text.

She pounced him, and it sent him sprawling over the blankets and pillows. Eleena was stronger—no doubt there—but he was taller, and he stretched his arms over his head, holding the slate away. She scrambled over him, her body pressed to his. It wasn't her state of undress, or his, or the fact that she was very pretty that made him go still. It was the simple animal pleasure of her playful touch. There was nothing timid about her, locking fingers around his wrists and wrenching her slate back. She let out a triumphant laugh. She was halfway to sitting up again when she paused.

His expression had changed; Wystan could feel it. Tears threatened, hot in the corners of his eyes. He turned his face away. “Wys,” she said after a moment. Eleena set the dataslate aside, next to the cooling ashes. She slipped under the sheets. He sat up. One of those hands—so delicate in appearance, but bearing a marksman's calluses—skimmed over his back. “You alright?” she asked. “No,” he said. “I'm Untouchable.” His barking laughter was sharp in the space, thrown back at him from the corners. Eleena swore, ugly words coming from her pretty mouth like shit from a flower. She leaned against him. He didn't dare put an arm around her. He didn't want her struggling like a hooked fish. “So am I,” she said. “Does it feel like it to you?”

He paused, taking inventory. Her thigh grazed his; her short hair tickled at his bicep. He could feel the strength of her hands; the slight damp and rush of her breathing. Wystan Frauka felt nothing of the revulsion he had inspired, unknowing, all his life. He shook his head.

“They call it skin-hunger,” she said. “Or Lizzie did. In the Distaff we … found a kind of solace. We don't feel anything.” “Including each other,” he finished, realization dawning. “Is that why you climbed into my bed? Missing your old cuddle-buddies?” “Partly,” she admitted. Her fingers closed on his wrist again, and she lifted his arm to hook it around her shoulders. “The rest—well…” “Well,” he echoed, tracing a fingertip along the rim of her ear. She shivered, and he realized there were thousands of ways he could touch her and slake the hunger he hadn't known to name.

Wystan Frauka vowed to find them all.

[nuellen]

Site Write - Day 13

Day 13: Start your writing with a sentence that is genuinely happy and upbeat, with no double meanings. Then end it with the same sentence, but this time it is chilling, dark, or otherwise negative.

“It’s for you.” The smile of her husband only made Nuellen grow more skeptical as she looked at the box, wrapped carefully and a bow tied at the corner.

“What is it?” She replied with a small laugh, patting the spot beside her on the couch, only taking the box once Kordael sat beside her.

“It’s something I think would be of good use,” he paused to lift an ankle, resting it atop his knee as he relaxed against her, bright blonde hair mingling with her dark tresses, “At least, when I’m not around to be able to help you once the children are born.”

A hand moved to rest against her own, gently caressing her round, large belly. It wouldn’t be long now, before they were ready to be born. Nuellen recalled the mention of two children. She hoped one would be a girl; there were so many men in her life, it would be a relief to not be the only one. Being with this paladin, taking his name Sunthal, she was grateful for the chance to finally settle down after all her years. He seemed to think the same, but even as she was homebound now, his duty was never done. She was sure she felt the tremor through her feet this time, looking up at him.

“Those are getting more frequent. Do you think you’ll have to leave again?” She frowned at the idea, only finally getting to see him for the first time in weeks. She was growing restless being alone.

“I’m sure it will be asked of me. The Argent Crusade is doing what they can to try and relieve much of the stress between the rogue undead and these cultist camps popping up.” He matched her own expression briefly before wrapping his free arm around her shoulders, pressing his lips to her temple before returning his attention to the box. “Come on now, before I’m called away once more.”

She laughed and leaned into the paladin’s side. Kordael continued to surprise her with these random gifts. The box happened to be rather small, which only made her wonder about what was inside even more. Carefully untying the bow, she opened the box to find a simple, silver bracelet with one large, blue gem set within the band. Nuellen let out a small ‘ooh’ and picked it up for a closer inspection. Around the gem there were arcanic runes etched into the setting. She felt Kordael move and he pointed to each of the runes.

“It’s been enchanted so that you can make a copy of yourself. If you need to, you’ll be able to do twice as much, and hopefully you won’t be overburdened when I can’t be around to help you out.” He explained further on the instructions on how it was done, and after one test to make sure it worked, Nuellen beamed.

“This is so thoughtful! Thank you, my love.” She leaned to kiss him, ears perking after a moment as she heard a familiar and - quite honestly - bothersome chiming. “Already?”

It was his communicator, making itself known from one of the other rooms. His sigh was a tired one as he moved to lift himself from the couch. She watched him walk into the other room and frowned. She could see how the constant calls for assistance were wearing on his energy, especially as his shoulders slouched when he returned to her a few minutes later.

“It’s another cultist camp. Numbers are being stretched thin as the crusade tries to help both Alliance and Horde. They need as many hands as can be spared.” He moved to rub his palm against an eye, something he did lately as a reaction to stress.

“You know I can’t make you stay, but just make sure to take care of yourself out there. And come home quickly.”

“I’ll leave tomorrow. No sense in running out the door when I can at least help you out a little and get a restful night of sleep while I’m at it.” He smiled and walked to her, leaning down for another kiss.

Weeks had passed since that day. The tremors were frequent still and she hadn’t heard from Kordael through their communicators for the past few days. She began to worry, wondering what had happened.

Continued stress and worry had sent Nuellen into an early labor, to which she was left fatigued beyond belief after giving birth to her two daughters. She was in a haze when she thought she saw her husband standing next to her, holding the little girl who would later be named Alna’cenia, giving her praise for a job well done. They would be safe and loved.

Weeks still passed; she was slowly recovering from the birth. Kordael still hadn’t returned. She quietly continued to hold onto hope, until one day, she heard a knock at the door of her home. No one she knew ever knocked. The pit in her stomach grew and grew until she finally placed her hand on the doorknob to open it. She blinked as she looked at the stern face of another elf, dressed completely in their paladin armor, reaching for their satchel to pull out a libram. This, this was familiar, even through the veil of tears that were covering her eyes. A note was placed on the libram as the paladin frowned somberly, holding it out to her, “Nuellen Sunthal? I’m sorry to say... It’s for you.”

@thesunguardmg

[thedragonisaprincess]

Howl In The Dawn

The first sign of daylight had lightened the night sky into a muted purple, and the Sunguard’s main camp seemed quiet save for the guards getting ready to be relieved of their shift; perhaps those who were early risers had begun to stir in their tents. Snow was still present, and though the cold nights had not been quite as harsh as before, the ground was becoming more wet as signs of Spring were beginning to show with a gradual melt and crunch of those white hillsides and banks.

Approaching from the east, a dire wolf as massive as many of the cavalry’s warhorses and nearly camouflaged by her pale sand-colored fur, slow and tired from an arduous journey. One guard who was a volunteering fighter from The Farstriders recognized the beast and allowed The Blonde through, though curious and somewhat alarmed that the wolf was alone; missing the woman she was bonded to. Tied at the neck and hidden under The Blonde’s thick, winter guard hairs was a satchel that seemed to be made from skins of animals recently caught. Determined to reach her target, The Blonde did not stop to let the Farstrider check this satchel, and walked her way silently through the camp with only the crunch of snow beneath her paws alerting her presence.

The scent of Ethalarian Dawnstalker and Nuellen’s wolf Moro grew stronger and eventually The Blonde had arrived in time to greet the Blood Knight when he walked out from his tent, still pulling himself from a restless sleep.

His reaction, understandably, was one of immediate shock and then panic. He began to look around the immediate area The Blonde was standing, “Where is she?! Where-- Where is Nuellen?!”

He addressed the dire wolf directly, knowing the connection The Blonde and Amarr had to Nuellen, and seemed to understand general feelings and intentions from others. Yet, all the wolf did was wag her tail gently and lean forward to lick the entire left side of his face with the broad side of her tongue. He seemed to grow more frustrated and was about to continue his fruitless interrogation of a four-legged creature, but forced himself to calm as he watched The Blonde sit back onto the snow and yawn wide, lifting her head to expose the leather pouch tied to her neck.

The surge of concern and adrenaline made Larry’s hands shake as he went to untie and remove the pouch. Another deep breath was needed before he opened the pouch, not caring to admire the fact that somehow Nuellen had pulled enough twine from her supplies to sew the damn thing together.

Inside were three pieces of parchment folded neatly and marked on the outside with different sets of initials: BK E.D., AK A.B., and Arch. T.T.

He quickly identified which initials belonged to their person and made to remove his letter, but his eye caught the glint of metal resting at the bottom of the pouch. He reached and felt his heart sink as he pulled forth two necklaces; one of which was very familiar to him. Thinking the worst already, he looked down and pulled his letter. He only read what was addressed to him, but after some time, he dressed and left his tent once more, letters in hand and moving to make sure they were delivered to their intended recipient.

Nuellen’s Messages:

Under The Cut

Ethalarian,

I write this as I camp somewhere on the far Eastern side of Quel’Thalas, between a mountain range and perhaps a few weeks walk to The Goldsea; it’s a bit hard to tell right now. I don’t plan to linger very long here, and I don’t know how long this message will take getting to you, so I can only say that I’m alive and have avoided most conflict. I’m uninjured, if a little hungry, most of the prey animals are keeping warm and out of the snow.

These weeks of tracking have been almost too long - Amarr and The Blonde caught scent of Kipcha and we followed her trail as some allies were trying to get her to lead them to Velianor’s location, but Kipcha broke away and ran back the way they were traveling. I expect perhaps Frostblaze is injured and she was returning to her mate... Instead of turning back, we pressed forward; lost the scent a few times, but have finally found something.

Time has worn away any sort of direction Veli and her pack were headed, but someone had her on the run. I found wolf bodies, well worn by decay, but no sign of Velianor or a body. I’ve been canvassing the area for the better part of two weeks now; I may have found a site where she could have fallen, but there’s no signs of a body, nor any kind of scavenging. I have a fresher scent now, though...

I also have proof that I’ve made headway and have packed them with these letters to you, Aestus, and The Archon; I remember catching a glance of her wearing these necklaces a few times and I assume they weren’t removed voluntarily.

There is no trail, so Amarr and I will circle and widen the area for any possible signs or routes that she could have taken. I will not assume that she has been taken captive or killed.

I’ve done some training of my own with Amarr and The Blonde. I believe they now will have a connection to my well being, similarly to Velianor and her wolves but not quite as strong. The Blonde is to remain with you and Aestus for the time being, but if she will let you know if something is wrong.

I love you. This will have a positive outcome. Believe in that.

-Nuellen

P.S. Please make sure that Archon Truefeather gets my report.

Aestus,

I write this as I camp somewhere on the far Eastern side of Quel’Thalas, between a mountain range and perhaps a few weeks walk to The Goldsea; it’s a bit hard to tell right now. I don’t plan to linger very long here, and I don’t know how long this message will take getting to you, so I can only say that I’m alive and have avoided most conflict.

Finding our Velianor has not been easy, and it remains a challenge, but I believe I’ve made progress finally and now have more to work with.

Bad News first: Much of her pack has been eliminated, it seems. Some kind of skirmish happened and she was forced to retreat but not without pursuit. I found the necklaces I’ve sent with The Blonde hanging from a tree in one valley section, but I also found a few other signs that Amarr and I could get a solid scent from.

Better News: I have not found any evidence of a body or scavenging from other animals. This means she’s not here and I will continue to track her down. It will still take some time to circle the area and extend our search, but I’m confident Amarr and I will catch up to her. Wherever she is.

I realize this message may bring you and Ethalarian more distress, but keep your head clear. Don’t let the Worst Scenario worm it’s way to you. There’s something in my bones telling me that she isn’t gone from this realm; certainly you feel the same thing?

Keep hold of that feeling.

I’ll find her; and we will return together. Keep breathing.

-Nuellen

Archon Telchis Truefeather,

Nuellen Swiftstrike, Pathfinder Dawnward and Farstrider Ranger-Captain, writing to you in regards to the whereabouts and status of fellow Dawnward Velianor Novastorm. Apologies, first off and also in hindsight, for departing without previous approval from Superiors; this mission to track and locate the Dawnward started and has only been one of Personal and Emotional gain to myself and other members who are close to Velianor. However, I am acting alone and did not attempt to convince anyone else to join me; any repercussions for my actions against orders, I will accept when I return with Dawnward Novastorm, alive or otherwise.

I’m unaware of her reason for being so far from any other units, but that is not a concern to me, at current... Only that myself and others were alerted by one of her bonded wolves that something severely wrong had happened to her and the wolf pack she travels with. She had escaped the main camp and I decided to follow.

I’ve managed to track down a site along the mountainside South East of The Goldsea that I believe she had encountered an enemy force and retreat was required. However, the retreat was followed - perhaps harried - as many of her wolves are now rotting in the snow. The body of the Dawnward in particular was not discovered, nor have there been signs of any scavenging in the area; not even a finger bone was located. I have, however, found a lead and have chosen to follow it. If I find she is captured by any enemies, I will send my black Dire Wolf Amarr with notice and continue to track, but I will not engage. Otherwise, if she is found recovering or otherwise, I will report to the nearest camp with Dawnward Novastorm in my care.

I understand this is a minor update among events that are far more important. Please consider this letter an official report of investigation for The Sunguard’s archives.

Light and Lady Aessina Keep You Safe,

Nuellen Swiftstrike Alah’ni

Long Overdue Post Regarding Velianor Novastorm’s Phoenix War Stories: Planting Seeds in a Garden You Never Get to See and What’s Left Behind while eventually leading up to The Forgotten Pt. 1 / Pt. 2

Tagged For Mentions: @ocarina-of-what // @theletter27 ( @shampoocommercialelves ) // @trained-trainwreck ( @ethalarian) // @felthier ( @thesunguardmg )

[thenaaru]

DAY SIXTEEN: Write about a time your character reflected upon something.

The deck of Her Lady’s Grace was quiet, all decked out in colours of crimson and gold with banners showing fire and phoenixes. Quel’thalas. It was everywhere; the deck beneath her feet, her crew, the sails of her ship - the very oath she had taken. Taeonthrial had never been loyal to Darnassus, for a long time her loyalty had lain outside the law. Her people would have cast her aside without a second thought with cries of piracy and witchcraft. Here was her second chance, a ship given to her on the end of a promise that if she stepped a foot out of line she would find herself wishing she were hung. The Spectre was a sharp woman, but she was right. She took a great risk in taking a kal’dorei captain under the flag of the Crimson Fleet, a kal’dorei with hundreds of years as Mate of the notorious Khalind Starlock; his lover, student and ultimately, betrayer. She feared the day she saw the living ship upon the horizon.

And what had her decision brought her? A ship? The right to call herself captain? Every choice she had made from the day she had left the Galestorm behind her had only taken her further away from the one thing her heart ached for. The gentle rustle of leaves at her side reminded her she had at least one friend with unquestionable loyalty to her; for all she complained about Akaela, it was undeniable that the little sapling would follow her to the ends of Azeroth. Even when she had taken him from the gale tree, told him he would likely never see it again, he had simply placed a flower in her palms and followed her anyway. Taeonthrial laughed, how sad was it that a tree bore more loyalty than her?

She missed them, sometimes. Anlathia, Khalind. Taegann and Adnox. Velmiera too. But none of them as much as she missed Tulav. They had crossed paths since, once or twice. An infirmary, a bar. His refusal to speak to her about their broken engagement hurt. It made her angry - she had no right to be. Every time she looked to the stars her heart cracked a little more and she knew she would still give her soul to him if only he would ask.

“Lost in thought, Captain?” “You don’t have to call me that when no-one is around, Bhal.” Bhaltair shrugged, coming to stand aside his sister with his arms folded across his chest. “You’re thinking about him again.” “Them. I’m thinking about them.” “But mostly him.”

He was met with silence even as he turned a scrupulous golden eye down upon her. He had never much liked Tulav, but at least she had been happy for the short time they had been together. Taeonthrial stubbornly ignored his look, fearing the conversation or questions that might come of it should she engage him. Bhaltair sighed and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You should rest soon, we have a meeting with the Anchorage harbourmaster an hour after sunrise. Moon forsaken blood elves and their mornings.”

She nodded and then she was alone again. Bhaltair at least knew when to leave her to her thoughts. Slowly, she turned her eyes to the stars; the sight of them hurt, as she had expected. Someone had once told her she was more beautiful than each and every twinkling light up there in the sky. Against her chest, on a leather string around her neck, lay a ring given to her by the same person. It had never made it to her finger; but she never gave up hope that one day it would if only he would let her love him again.

“Where are you, Tulav?”

mentions @jessipalooza @isei-silva @bracelet00 @kurai-no-bara @blencem

[theislesunfamily]

SWC - Day 14

What is one piece of advice you would leave a child to carry with them for the rest of their life? 

Looking forward to what you all create today! 

[makotokino]

sunguard - one year

It’s mind boggling to me to realize that I’ve been back in WoW for over a year. When I left at the beginning of WoD, I was pretty certain I was never coming back. The game had lost a lot of love in my heart, partially because of personal circumstances but overall, I was burnt out. BFA’s trailer brought me back in November of 2017, and I spent some time on the outskirts until I poked my head into S.O.S. While the experience was great, I do have some mixed feelings on it now - but one thing I am grateful for is that it brought me to the Sunguard.

This past year has been an absolute boon for me in a lot of ways. Being a member in Sunguard has challenged me creatively, and looking back over my writings last year to now - I can already see an improvement. Not just in how I write, either, but how I create. I spend so much time brainstorming with stories I love, and that’s lead to so much more creativity even outside of Warcraft writing. I’ve started writing original content again, I’ve picked up painting; I’m excited to challenge myself in the future because I feel confident and creative. For someone who has struggled with creativity and especially feeling confidence in my work, this is so wonderful.

Y’all have given me a place to create and express my characters, to grow their stories. So many parts of Sanarissa - a character I’ve been writing for eight years - have grown into something more nuanced, complex, and interesting. I’ve also had the opportunity to create more characters who I love, which I’ve never really done before - being someone who focused only on my main.

So I wanted to say thanks - to everyone I communicate with, write with, and share the experience of TSG with on a daily basis. I also have a few special thank you’s because I’m a giant sap. But for now, thank y’all for this amazing year and I can’t wait for more.

The Officer Corp, with special thanks to Felth @felthier, Jess @jessipalooza, Mel @stormandozone, and Azzy @azriah: From the first moment applying to the Sunguard, the officers made me feel welcome and wanted. That was a huge thing for me. Along the way, y’all have always been supportive, attentive, and nice to talk to. Especially the four of you I mentioned, I feel like I can always come to at least one of you with questions or concerns. So thank you, for making the guild a great place for not only me but everyone else - and for always being there to answer my (sometimes) dumbass questions. Not to mention y’all inspire me so much with your work.

Tiah / @forever-afk: Tiah, you are one of the reasons I joined TSG to begin with. Between you and Thomas after S.O.S., that’s really what pushed me forward. I know we haven’t gotten to RP in a loooong time due to our own lives not meshing, but I’m still so glad Sana and Vaelrin are buddies.

Aimee / @thanidiel: I know we don’t talk super often but I am very glad to have you around to jabber at, get advice and critique from, and joke around with. Having you around during S.O.S. was a boon, and I’ve enjoyed being able to make old MG veterans memes with you sometimes. You inspire me so much to be a better writer, creator, roleplayer, dude.

Cari / @retributionpriest: So I was devastated when Lirelle died without ever really getting the chance to interact, besides like one social event with a couple sentences, because of my own Anxiete. But I am soooo so so so glad that we’ve started talking and roleplaying a little back and forth. Being able to chat with you over Elementalist stuff and the brief RP we’ve been able to do has been so fun. I look forward to so much more in the future.

Harm / @thelaughingvulture: Fave Light cultist, bar none. But honestly, Brae is such an interesting character and I love her and despite the constant Brea/Brae confusion, I am glad we’ve gotten to talk and RP more over the last few weeks. I’m SAD that Sana is a traitor again, but the interactions we are keeping were so good - plus we’ll have bards we can write, or Light nerds. I’m super excited to keep on truckin as your buddy.

Veli / @ocarina-of-what: Hi. I love you. RP with me at some point. No, but really, having gotten to know you a little bit over the past few weeks has been absolutely incredible. You’re such a gem and a darling, I love you to pieces already. I hope we get to know each other much better AND ACTUALLY GET TO RP SOON. LOVE YOU.

Matt / @captainswingbeard: Hello, I know I’m a horribly slow RP partner, but your kind words and genuine interest in my stories are so wonderful and great. I was soooo surprised when you took interest in wanting to RP with me but it’s been so fun and interesting. I love reading your stories and I’m so interested in how everything will play out for the Old Man. And I swear, I’ll reply soon (unless I already have because I wrote this ahead of time - ha!)

Larry / @trained-trainwreck: I genuinely cannot like, preface enough how much your friendship means to me. You are one of my best TSG buddies and you mean a lot to me. We are Team Southern America and that’s important to me to have someone who comes from a similar background and history that I can share my experiences with. On top of that, being able to write with you is one of my favorite things, despite us not having much time to do so. Larry and Sana’s parallels are so interesting and I’m sorry she has yet again betrayed his trust. Also, I love big murder boy and I swear, at some point, I will be able to accept your invitation to level in ESO together.

Jase / @veloestian: Hey. You mean a lot to me. I know I communicate to you in gently bullying terms a lot, but you’re a dear friend to me. I love writing with you even though I’m slow and a horrible partner. You were the first person I wrote Melori with and so much of her grew from the interactions we had early on. You help me feel better when I’m sad and you send me dumb memes and I love that. You’re a good bean and I cherish you.

Gibby / @please-respond: Bridge troll or not, you are like my brother. My horrible gremlin brother who I sometimes want to kill, but brother nonetheless. Our relationship has been based a lot more off of friendship than RP, which makes me sad sometimes - but I’m glad we’re getting to RP and write together. I love the things you create, I love the opportunities you’ve given me towards my character arc for Sana, and I’m thankful for all the advice and talks we’ve had. Thank you.

Archer / @pyrosophist: Hey. Hey Archer. Hi. You’re my favorite fetus in the universe probably. I am so, so honored and consider myself truly lucky to count you as one of my closest RP partners. Of course, I can talk about Team Fel and how much I have loved seeing them grow from enemies to tenuous allies to friends to lovers to ENEMIES AGAIN, how much their natural, organic growth has fascinated me, how much their parallels hurt my soul, how much I enjoy writing them with you and what will come of it in the future.

But there’s so much more than that. It’s become routine to just talk to you everyday, about creation and headcanons and ideas - you have such a creative energy and you inspire me by even being near you. Digging into headcanons and character work with you and throwing ideas at the wall to see what sticks has quickly become one of the highlights of my day; right alongside of planning what kind of stupid shit we can do in roll20. I even love hurling stupid pinterest posts and songs at you, it’s all part of the friendship.

Being able to share lore, ideas, AU’s, and RP with you means so much to me. You’ve made such an impact on my time in the Sunguard, and I can’t thank you for that enough. I can’t wait to see the storylines you unfold, now and in the future, and be there to experience them. Also, you always draw me wonderful things and I cry a lot.

Thomas / @jonathan-nevermore-smith: I had to save you for last, goober. From the moment we started writing together a year ago, I knew that I was in for something special. Writing Ash and Sana with you has been a rollercoaster that I have been happy to be on, even now. They mean so much to me. You’ve given me so much opportunity to revisit and grow the character that I love so much.

But it isn’t just Sana. Because of your brilliant ideas, I’ve gotten to create multiple characters that I love and adore. It was your urging that pushed me to make Melori a fully-formed, true character. It was your fanon lore that brought me Zaerise. You’ve always encouraged my ideas and thoughts, even when I thought they were extra. You’re always excited to talk with me about things - and that means so much to me.

You’ve let me take a lot of your fanon and just run with it. Being able to work out the religion, culture, and history of the Ridges - its customs and what makes it tick - has been such a fulfilling thing for me to do. Not to mention the Coven, and how much I love and adore them and all that you’ve let me do with your inkling of an idea.

You’re way more than an RP partner though. You are one of my best friends. Talking to you everyday just feels like part of the routine - always have to check in and talk with Thomas. You’ve become such a common point of reference in my life. You share my Hulu account with the real life squad. You’ve been there for me in some of my hardest points this year; you’ve listened to me cry, heard me drunk, and you’ve been there for me every moment in between.  I’m more thankful for you than I can easily put into words. So thank you, Thomas, for a year of amazing friendship and roleplay, and here’s to so many more.

[ryther-writes]

SWC: Day 1.

Write a diary entry for your character, dated 10 years in the future.

New year, new me. That’s how the saying goes, right? It feels like hardly a thing changed in many years, besides getting older and my body breaking down more. I suppose that’s the sad thing about being a human among all the elves- they can go along this long and barely a thing changes for them, but here I am, only a few short years from entering my forties. Sooner or later I’m going to have to stop fighting and do something that doesn’t involve me putting my body at risk. Maybe I should’ve been a Dawnmender instead, I would have gotten more practice at writing things than I have with the path I’ve taken. Maybe I’ll ask Prisa to give me some of her old stuff for me to get a hang of the idea.

Still, it isn’t all that bad. I wasn’t sure if I was going to even live outside of my teen years, let alone well beyond my twenties and into my thirties. And I’ve met some great people along the way. Experiences both good and bad, like the whole conflict with the Alliance...that was rough for me to do at times. But on the other hand, I also managed to find myself and what I believe in, and I managed to fight for those beliefs to this very day, and hey, meeting the love of my life is a nice plus too. But I always learned from those experiences and grew, good or bad. Not bad for a girl from Elwynn, I’d say.

Kyranyx looked over her shoulder at the person who was sleeping soundly in bed, a small smile on her face as she turned back to the diary she was writing in, finishing her thoughts up.

Well, here’s to another year, me. May your blades be swift, and your injuries be few, and whatever else it is that you do, be sure to pick up an easy hobby to gift for once. It’s what she would want.

-Kyranyx Ryther

( @pyrar for ment.)

[thegoldenkraken]

SWC #4: Childhood.

A room.

Every inch of it, memorized.

The lock on the door. The barred window. The runes on the walls.

Her father's voice.

“Be good, child.”

Words tinged with sincerity.

Smoke.

Ash.

Flame.

Madness.

[pyrosophist]

Gifts and Letters

It is a strange thing, when she finally pays mind to the holiday season and feels the impulse to do.. something, for once. It has been many years since she has had more than the smallest handful of people to give gifts to.

Through varying degrees of occult and official means, she sends out a variety of things over the course of several days, when the Archon turns the members of the Sunguard to their own business. Most of the letters are bewitched, unable to be read except by their intended recipients. 

---

Aestus receives a leather armband with elaborate patterns seemingly burned into it, stylish but unobtrusive. On the inside face is inscribed in Thalassian script, “The night does not survive the dawn.”

My friend,

Of the guard, you are the first with whom I spoke besides possibly the dryest interaction I have ever had with the Scion. Though we have not done so in some time, I count you among one of my few steady friends. You have seen the darkness that lurks in the mid of my nights, as I yours.

Trace the script and read it aloud, when it becomes hard. In addition to it, I grant you one favor, to call upon my talents or resources as you will it.

@shampoocommercialelves

Westel is sent a box of pies, professionally made and still-fresh through some minor spell settled over them. In addition, a hunting knife that comes sharpened, its hilt carved and wrapped with artful patterns evocative of woodland beasts, with leafwork embellished along the spine of the blade.

Westel,

You were one of the first to show me friendship among the Sunguard. Three months ago I would not have called it that, but times seem to be changing. I thank you for the kindness, however small it may have been to give.

Where the hell have you gone? I miss Ithruiel. How dare you keep him from me.

@westelfirewing

Nuellen receives a strange, enchanted necklace -- a raven’s skull formed of blackened, petrified wood, attached to a thin, sturdy cord. A note explains its purpose to give the wearer resistance against ambient fel energy or exposure.

Swiftstrike,

Not a week passes that I do not think of my grandfather and how fortunate I was to have him. I have wrestled with feelings about his death for a very long time -- I don’t believe that I am yet done mourning, or that I ever will be -- but I am infinitely grateful to know that I am serving alongside some of the few Farstriders who served alongside him. Thank you.

@thedragonisaprincess

To Thanidiel is sent a cloak of brilliant, blood red fabric. Through some workings of alchemy, the cloak seems to be a remarkable insulator, despite its light weight. Some of the warlock’s sorcery is bound to it as well, and upon investigation it is revealed to be fireproof -- and furthermore, made to deflect magical flame and heat. The underside shimmers against the light with hues of orange and gold. An attached note reads, “This one won’t burn up. Use it well.”

Highdawn,

It has been some time since we have spoken, regrettably. I am still bitter that we did not get to face off at Shadowsunder’s tournament. Though through battle I have regained familiarity with my sorcery and its limits, I would still test it against you when you are available. Consider this a challenge.

@thanidiel

Caelinda is given a pair of boots, sturdy, stylish and well-crafted. Enchantments scribed onto the seams ensure that it will last an eternity of travel -- in addition, the monk feels a little lighter on her feet, when she wears them. To accompany the gift is an ornate brooch fashioned out of gold and ruby to affix to a cloak or scarf, and a batch of festive cookies that are still warm and fresh through some minor spell.

Caelinda,

There are few words to describe the depth of affection and fondness I have for you, however much I may loathe to show it around other people. You have given me a sense of peace and welcome that I have not had in such a long, long time, and I am grateful for your love. I will strive for all my days to be worthy of it.

@superspicedinosaur

Tyleril is sent a piece of everburning coal, infused with sorcery. It is warm to the touch, and a note explains that it can be activated and deactivated through a command word. When active, it effuses strong heat and flame, presumably to be used in the forge or a fireplace. The note warns not to hold it at inopportune times.

Silversword,

Thank you for hosting me in your home the night of the bonfire party. I know that I can be abrasive at the best of times, but it is appreciated, and I wish your business good fortune.

Keep the coal out of Samiel’s hands. That boy has fire in his eyes.

@tyleril-silversword

Vaelan receives a bottle of fine wine, Suncrown vintage. This brand is only seen on shelves practically once in a blue moon -- she must have been holding onto it for some time.

Vaelan,

You’re a fine man to work and drink with, though I fear I tend to grow only more abrasive when inebriated -- but I appreciate your friendliness, and our banter. Put this wine to good use. It’s far too damn fancy for me to drink it myself straight from the bottle, and I’m less inclined to put myself into a stupor on a regular basis, nowadays.

@greatmaulsoffire

A book, old and ornately bound, is sent to Veleth. It appears to be an in-depth study and analysis of extraplanar phenomena, as well as the planes themselves and how they intersect with the material world.

Ashcaster,

I had never expected to find a kindred scholarly mind among the Blood Knights. You are a steadfast ally in battle, and I appreciate your respect and curiosity for my studies. I hope that we both might benefit from learning into the future, with Argus on the horizon.

@veleth95

To Synthiel, a Reliquarian’s sanction for the regulated study and use of alchemically-synthesized anima.

Cloudseye,

It is refreshing to speak with another pyromancer on a level of exchanging knowledge and technique, and for that I thank you -- I have not enjoyed the privilege for a very long time, different as our disciplines may be. My expertise in commanding Wrath hones sharper by the day, and I have you to thank in part for that.

@spiral-seeker

For Ka’ese, a potted Thalassian plant, with delicate leaves in hues that range from scarlet to gold -- it is bright, and fragrant. A piece of home, preserved through magic that is clearly not the warlock’s own.

Brother,

Past our twenty-fifth year I did not think I would ever write to you and say ‘Merry Winter’s Veil’ ever again. I’m still not certain on how to feel that I am doing it now, but I know that I should, after everything. So much has changed since our reunion in Azsuna. Argus yet looms in the sky, and you should know that I intend to see this war to its end. I hope for your health, through it all.

One day we shall spend this time of the year together again, as brother and sister.

@turalyon

The Magistrix Starshard’s gift arrives on the wings of a strange raven with eyes like embers, bearing the warlock’s distinct aura of magic. In a small leather case strapped to its back is a token -- metal fashioned into the emblem of the Sunguard, with its reverse face inscribed with Thinariel’s unique sigil -- and a message of rolled and sealed parchment.

Thradia,

I cannot even begin to presume what you may believe of me at present -- I apparently have an unfortunate habit for disappearing off the face of the world. You have the deepest apologies I may give, and the greatest hopes for your health and success. You are beautiful and strong, more than I could have ever taught you to be.

Know that I survive, and that I had no choice but to take my leave of the Black Harvest when Vataan abducted my brother from Dalaran (yes, I have a brother). Through his hand and mine, no trace of my tower remains in the Twisting Nether. Without my refuge, I serve the Sunguard. So much has changed that I cannot put to words.

Argus looms high in the sky; you know where I must be.

Stay the course.

@ladyliadrin

[goaprose]

.9: Bag of Holding | SWC 1.2018

Day 9: How does your character deal with weather away from Silvermoon? Do they prepare, or just assume they will find what they need? 

“Why didn’t you take the tent?” “You didn’t. Offer. It!” Kalyanar snarled, ears going back in the face of Iiloridan’s laughter. “I can’t believe a bear ate your fucking cheap-ass tent!” “It didn’t get eaten, it got torn to pieces- Shut up, Lori!” From his seat on the floor, the priest rolled onto his back, cackling. Kalyanar dropped into his chair in disgust, throwing a cushion toward Iiloridan’s face- which was batted away. “Here, if you’re going to turn into an adventurer-” “Like hell I’m going out there like that again!” “-we need to get you a stash of supplies of your own. So you don’t fuck up Avie’s tent next time,” Iiloridan grinned, teeth bared. “You mean the ‘cheap ass’ tent?” He snapped, only to be ignored as Iiloridan, still on the floor, reached over to a shelf, pulling down a well-stitched bag that shimmered in the light. “Here, look.” Iiloridan upended his bag. Despite the ease in which he hefted the fabric, far more fell out of the mouth than should have been able to fit inside. Ugh. Enchanters. Kalyanar watched in disgust as Iiloridan spread out a veritable cornucopia of supplies, every one of which could have come in handy during his trip into the icy mountainside with Avie. “Tent…” The bundle was massive- yet far more compact than it had any right to be, considering how huge Kalyanar knew the tent to be. “Double-walled, thick-based, all sides enchanted-” Kalyanar groaned. “Collapsible cots, to keep you away from the cold ground-” “I fucking hate you.” “Collapsible fire bowl, rope-” “Rope? What the hell, we weren’t mountain climbing.” “Have you ever fallen into a frozen fucking river before?” Iiloridan asked, tone suddenly gone snippy. He turned the rope over in his hands, before setting it aside, and Kalyanar’s nose wrinkled. “No…?” He said, pausing when his cousin only raised his brows pointedly in answer. “Wait, when the hell did you-” “I didn’t, no,” he corrected, stare gone chilly as his teasing tone vanished. “But without the rope...I would have come back alone.” Kalyanar winced, faux-anger fizzling. “But when do you think? I’ve been to Northrend twice. If you think I’m ever going near any icy hellhole ever again without every possible disaster covered, you’re wrong.”

@thenaaru for mentions