#hallowfall

[allysdelta]

We are the holders of hope.

[kottkrig]

Questing in Hallowfall as a shadow priest/warlock/death knight/Forsaken/Void elf where everyone talks about the Light every 0.5 seconds and look at you like you've insulted their entire ancestral lineage by just standing there

[sirdolraan]

Meditations

((DWC Feb 2025, Day 1, Hypnotic/Star, @daily-writing-challenge CW: None ))

Beledar's light shined brightly down on Dolraan as he stood on the wall, gazing up at the giant crystal. Some part of, aspect of the worldsoul, filled with life-giving light, as well as terrifying shadowy power that tempted the great evils of the world. And a song that could only be heard by those who were attuned to the Light, like himself. Lorellai, Spiru, even Janosis once they'd dug him out of Azj'kahet, couldn't hear it, even though the Radiant Song had come to all of them. But here, in Hallowfall, he could hear the crystal's song, soothing his mind and warming his heart.

No wonder the Arathi had decided to live here. It was, in every way that mattered, a blessing unlike any other. Beautiful. Affirming. Almost hypnotic.

"Penny for your thoughts, champion?" Dolraan turned to see Quartermaster Steelstrike walking up behind him, carrying two steaming mugs of tea. "Saw you head up here, thought you might like something warm to drink."

"That's very kind of you, Quartermaster," Dolraan smile as he received the mug, taking a sip of the tea. "As for my thoughts, too many and not enough. Questions that just lead to more questions. Even by my standards, this has been a very eventful time."

"I don't know whether to be impressed or worried, considering your stories. And please, we've shared a dinner table, you can call me Auralia, I won't tell the general," she said, winking. Her gaze turned up to Beledar. "You know, you'd think after years and years you'd get used to it, but it's still just so… magnificent. I'm glad to know that you outsiders can also look to Beledar for peace while you think."

"It is among the most remarkable things I've ever encountered, and I can say that with confidence. I think I agree with your historians; that you were brought here to safeguard it. I can't say that we'd have been able to stop Xal'atath's assault on it if not for the Arathi having established yourselves down here so well."

"I certainly like to think so. After all we've been through, all we've lost," she said, looking down and rubbing a ring on her finger, "having it mean something is important."

"I think it would have meaning, even if it was just a fluke. Because you gave it meaning. You made a decision, you built homes and families, and you work every day to keep everyone safe and happy. That's the Light, back where I come from."

"You have a real talent for making things big things seem simple," Auralia chuckled.

"I've spent the last five years teaching and training, I had to get good at it or I'd be embarrassed by my students, or ridiculed by my squire. Can't stand that thought."

"Well, I can understand that motivation. A toast, then. To keeping everyone safe and happy, even if it's as simple as sharing a warm mug of tea."

As Dolraan tapped his mug with Auralia's, Beledar shined brightly down upon the paladins below, her song audible to those who could hear it, echoing with notes of safety, and happiness.

[esperanta-dragon]

I almost thought I will never be invested in the game again. And then The War Within happened. I could say a lot about the writing, quest design, cinematics, mechanics, and how I overall enjoy the expansion.

What resonated in me was the Hallowfall questline, because it's can be easily put into a real life experience of trauma and going through hard times. But the Light always returns. So even if I would be the only one to wear this pin, I am still happy that I've made it.

You can get it here: SHOP

[anunendinggaze]

Daily Writing Challenge: Day 2 - Placate/Graceful

(Content warning: hints of assault)

Placating the wounded and dying was one thing, but offering the same level of peace to the broken was a whole other situation. For all the pious and noble virtues the Arathi possessed, this was one path they seemed less familiar with. Society dictated for them strength and faith were the pillars of success, a firm hand with a righteous cause could overcome anything. The Light would guide all home by the flickering flame.

Fayle was broken in their eyes and the one word whispered among the methodical healers was harsh than any sword could have been sharp.

Failure.

With graceful hands and full hearts they had come for in the ruined room of the Rest, taking bloody hands and slumped shoulders in their strong hands. Leading her by the cold corpse of her fiancé and the stern glares of the law. Slippered feet padding gently through the pools of blackening crimson that had long since stalled around Warbright's blonde hair, the former white robes splashed and sticky from the icor of the man's throat. The sight would make any sane person's stomach twist, perhaps in disgust or maybe anger or even just shock at the disgusting display of violence.

Fayle said nothing.

Fayle did nothing.

Fayle was nothing.

"Poor lass, the shock of this will never be without," whispered one of the healers as they finally exited the room and entered the hallway. The shocking smell of briny copper fading into a dull wafting cloud about the woman that left a scrape of a footprint behind her as they ushered her along.

They didn't go far of course, Dunelle's Rest was not a large inn or even the town of Kindness being that large either. A big city crime for small town community. Mouths would chatter and tongues would wag faster than a dog with a bone.

It would get uglier before it got easier.

Fayle just stared.

Fayle just walked.

Fayle just listened.

"Let's get this off her," spoke the first healer, an older woman who had seen more graves than births than she cared for in this last decade. Her fellow healer a one eyed elf, nodding softly as he gently reached to try and pull her robe off before a housekeeper rushed in.

A swat of a hand brought scowls from both professional's as the housekeeper stood her ground with a fist held like a mace as she growled. "Tha lass has just gone through hell, an ya think a man is gonna be good to undress 'er? Go on outside. I'll help wit the cleaning, you just wait til yer ready to offer some more o' tha Light to brin 'er back."

The elven man looked perplexed at this, his mouth gaping as he looked to his older partner who just shook her head. "I'll handle it. Fetch the oils and candles, we'll set up the vigil once we're done."

After years of living in the cavern the expedition had hoped people would get wiser about the work followers of the Flame committed too, but even at the other end of the world old world views still held strong as steel. It was annoying for those trying to do what was necessary and it was ludicrous for those still hanging onto what they had left behind.

Muttering to himself the elf exited, closing the door behind him as the pair of women guides Fayle toward the bed in the room.

Fayle stood silent.

Fayle stood still.

Fayle stood as stone.

The healer and her new assistant were quick to peel the soiled robe from her body, the housekeeper with sorrow etched on her face while the older healer was grim as midnight. Their eyes were quick to survey the woman for signs of violence, but she was clear. No bruises. No cuts. No trauma to the body.

All the heart.

All to the mind.

All to the spirit.

A warm washcloth was dipped into a basin of water as they began to scrub over the new widow, each woman solemn in this wretched task as the caked blood was peeled off and wiped away. The work was steady and gentle, neither wishing to cause an episode to explode from her at the wrong time. The last thing they wanted was to add to the trauma. The housekeeper sang softly an old tune that the healer recognized as a gentle lullaby that many a mother sang to the frightened child. The healer found herself singing along as well as they finished cleaning up their charge, her heart remembering times long ago when she had calmed a babe or two from the roar of a highland storm. It made her smile despite her current work.

Fayle was cleaned.

Fayle was dressed.

Fayle was guided.

The housekeepers calloused hand would gentle stoke the hair of the broken woman, her face sad and discouraged to see her so. A romantic heart ached for the tragedy down the hall, a fallen lover turned to terrible madness wrought upon that which he cherished most. It was like the stories she had heard in the common room when a bard shuffled his way among the townships to sing and balladeer to the farmers. She always cried at the end of them, much like she was now as she turned away dabbing at her eyes with her apron.

The door to the room would creak open carefully to reveal the elven man again, his one eyed gaze switching between the pair of them before he did his best to keep his tone in check. "May I come back in?"

The older healer would nod as she waved at him to join her by the bedside as she gently laid their patient down. The elf would nod as he kept his vision ahead and away from the weepy housekeeper who passed by on her way out of the room again. She knew her place was not within this room as the hospitallers would truly get to work on healing the woman.

Candles were arranged gently about the bed, each one set with reverence and respect to the power that guided the people of Hallowfall from the time of the Beledar's return to it's inevitable retreat. The long dark was nothing to joke about, but the fierce power the Arathi felt in their hearts for the light and the Flame would never falter or fall. They were too strong, too proud, and too loyal to ever believe the Emperor's vision would stray from the righteous path of the Light. The healers were well versed in this as much as they were versed in the medicines they produced to heal the sick or injured.

This malady though was not for stitches or poultices.

This malady needed strength.

This malady needed faith.

This malady needed courage.

A small stick from the fire was used to light the candles as the flame produced lightened the room even more, the shadows retreating as much as the cold from the warmth they all produced. The click of mail would crash like a long missed ocean as they knelt beside the bed, the gentle thumps of the elf's gauntlets before each healer would place their hand on one of the widow's. Their heads would bow as they began to focus and channel the power they felt all around in as much the physical light as they felt from the fires of their heart. There would be no sound but for the gentle whipping of candlelight as each hospitaller knew what they prayed and knew each would say to stoke the flames of this long battle into healing.

Fayle said nothing.

Fayle did nothing.

But Fayle felt everything.

And she was drowning as much as she was screaming in pools of violet.

@daily-writing-challenge

[serpentinesketches]

I was inspired by some of my friends art for their WoW characters to draw my own!

This is my Unholy Death Knight, who has been my main for about 5 years now. I included her dragon mount as well, cause why not ^_^

[auggusst-art]

Sixth and last in a series of sketches of Kimbetheli throughout the years for her 20th anniversary <3 Out in Hallowfall

[wowscenery]

[breadknight-likes-things]

Okay, Who Exactly Are The Arathi in The War Within?

I think every Warcraft lore fan has been working through a similar question over the last couple of weeks: who the hell actually are the Arathi of Hallowfall? In WoW lore we think of the Arathi Empire as one thing, the same thing I've been thinking since this expansion launched, Stormgarde, The Arathi Highlands, an old empire that split apart into many human kingdoms hundreds upon hundreds of years ago....so why do the people of Hallowfall refer to it in the present tense? Initially I felt like I had to have missed something. Something had to explain the characters referring to the Arathi Empire like it still exists, making reference to an extant emperor. If these people had set out from The Arathi Highlands ten or fifteen years ago did we....just not notice? Who is the emperor? Hallowfall seems shockingly well established for having only been established, what, ten to fifteen years prior? Nothing really explains any of it, and nobody stops to really ask any clarifying questions, and that's what makes it so fun. It's obvious that this new faction is being set up to play a major part in the World Soul Saga, and I personally am wildly excited about that very fact because it's something very new for this game. Sure, we'd had set ups and payoffs for things before, but often time it was broad strokes about things we already knew about in general. Warlords of Dreanor led to the Legion returning, and etc, but that wasn't exactly new. There suddenly being this entirely different culture of humans, insisting they've existed for a long time alongside everyone else, and having a presence and culture that's undeniable to look at? That is new, and that is exciting. I greatly look forward to where this whole Hallowfall storyline goes not just in this expansion but, I assume, the new saga being laid out in front of WoW fans. Damn, it's an exciting time for this game.

[azerothtravel]

I feel like the story of the Arathi in Hallowfall is

"We are constantly at war. The monsters come in the night. They are relentless. All Arathi have known loss. We can leave at any time. We must endure these horrors to build a life for ourselves here, trapped between giant spiders and evil fishmen who want to kill us. We have a fleet of giant airships and could leave at any time. Our lives are hard, but we manage to find joy amidst the hardship and death. We go to the surface, we know how to leave, we could go home at any time. It's difficult, but we persevere. Well, time to fly to the newly discovered Siren Isle, like we could just fly home. But won't!"

I mean, right? What is keeping them in this hellhole? They have a fleet of airships. Just... leave. And yet they act like they can't. There's the whole thing with the mage guy desperately trying to make a portal so they can go home. Just fly out of the big door! I really don't understand.

[jthorsten]

My dumb brain be turning.

So I read Heartlands a few days ago. Had to wait for the pdfs to be unearthed because I couldn’t listen to Metzen. It sounded like Varian describing everything, and I’m still not over that. But, without any kind of spoilers, not that there was much in it, it DOES set up a possible interesting interaction with Jaina and the Arathi of Hallowfall. Without getting into detail, a fanatic manages to get a jump on Jaina and knock her out for a significant amount of time. The fanatic almost gets something very important destroyed and cause irreparable damage on both sides.

Due to that situation, I will be very curious if Blizz carries that bit of story into TWW. I would love to see the dynamic of Jaina being wary and distrustful of the Hallowfall Arathi, especially when she finds out they come from the ‘glorious empire.’

I will be TICKLED if she goes full protective aunt!mom mode with Anduin, who seems fascinated and downright trusts them by comparison.

I will be honest, the Hallowfall Arathi give me the creeps. The whole place gives Scarlet Crusade vibes wrapped in the light of Beledar. From what I’ve gleaned from the expac so far, outside of this ‘lost expedition,’ the Arathi Empire is large and isolated. They had no knowledge of ANYTHING that we know of.

Now, I could be grasping at straws, but if the Arathi Empire is so grand and glorious, how would they react when they found out they many not, in fact, be so grand and glorious? There are other nations of humans that they didn’t know of. On top of that, there are whole other races they didn’t know about. With armies that have seen and experienced more wars than they realize.

Will they be friendly? Or will they seek to conquer and absorb the rest of the human nations?

I ask this, because this made me pause during the 30th anniversary stream.

They adjusted the original cinematic of Faerin gearing up. Instead of ending after she finishes, it pans back to an ARMY of people behind her.

Now, this could just be the army the Arathi are granting to fight whatever comes next in TWW concerning Xalatath. But what if it isn’t JUST that. What if this is just a taste of what the entire Arathi empire could be, backed by an unwavering devotion to the Light? Just like the Scarlet Crusade.

Or maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree and Faerin is just a shiny my little pony whose weird sweetness makes me TWITCH. I main a protection paladin, and everything about Hallowfall feels WEIRD.

[tidesages]

Okay, okay. I'm having a lot of fun in Hallowfall.

[sonnenscheinaccount]

WTB Nerubian Plushy ASAP

Isn't it super cute? Found as a practise target in the Priory

[cursed-azeroth]

· · ─────── ·CURIOSITIES: TOMES· ─────── · ·

Light's Gambit Challenger's Handbook, Dunelle's Kindness, Hallowfall ✦ 69, 45

[ishnualah]

Just did this side questline while leveling my lock and I LOVE this little weirdo she’s so valid 😭😭🩵

[anunendinggaze]

Daily Writing Challenge: Day 1 - Cruel/Beauty

(Content warning: hints of assault)

A handkerchief was offered to dull hands as it lay in a soft heap of fabric, the recipient missing in all but body at this moment as they stared ahead. Hospitaller Pilous sighed softly as he looked over his patient and the catatonic state she sat in, the once bright white robe stained with black to match the hands that were thankfully covered now. Pilous shook his head slowly as he slowly stood back to his full height and followed the direction of her gaze to the large figure draped over the floor.

Dashell Warbright lay in a pool of blood and gore.

"Flames guide us from this cruel moment," Pilous whispered as he did his best to not linger on the corpse. It was unbecoming considering the circumstances.

A knight was meant to be valorous and true, not a degenerate and violent. Apparently this was lost on the former on the floor. His fiancé deserved better.

The body had cooled for some time, but the air of death was long to linger within Dunelle's Rest. Nearby the investigator, Ser Astrin Von Flambren, stood silent in the room smoothing his mustaches as he continued to assess the body before him. Ser Astrin was the closest thing Dunnelle's Kindness had to a constable and had been the first to be called upon the discovery of the attack and murder. Murder was likely to ruled out considering the scene that had been discovered by the porter a few hours ago, but there were protocols that needed to followed and questioned. Such a dishonor would bring more than a mere stain to the township, it would bring a lot more harsher question of what was going on out here and no one wanted that inquisition to be called.

Sergeant Fayle Breakwrit had been assaulted by her fiancé this afternoon resulting in a multitude of tragedies.

A betrayed romance. An appalling assault. A violent result. An ugly investigation.

The elder knight did his best to ignore other nearby guardsmen of Hallowfall who stalked with wary eyes filled with as much pity as disgust. Ser Astrin could relate, easing into a crouch near the large man to further delve into what may or may not have happened.

Disturbing was the obvious consensus at this point.

Warbright had been a man of the Flame, an Arathi fired in the crucible of their highest orders and serving without fail for the last decade since the beginning of the Emperor's vision. Steadfast, sure, and strong to the Light he had been a soldier of a pious nature who would do anything for the good of the community and it's wayward people. Though they had never met before in person, Ser Astrin was certain of the man's righteousness. Or should have been.

Now he was a dead man with a slashed neck and a steak knife rammed through his jaw out his nose.

"Messy, but thorough," muttered Ser Astrin as he shook his head.

"Ser Astrin?"

The elder knight looked up into the face of the very much younger Pilous. Where as the old leaned into their younger forefathers, the young seemed to take to the older side of their people. The contrast was common but hardly unnoticed by pointed ears and tighter brows. Ser Astrin did not mind.

"Pilous." Ser Astrin replied as he slowly stood up with a rattle of his chain shirt and swinging morningstar. "How is your patient?"

The hospitaller shook his head softly. "No change I am afraid, the trauma of the attack has left her without voice or sound mind at this moment."

Both men looked back as Pilous ended his short assessment. "It is if she is a million miles away."

Ser Astrin shook his head grimly and settled his thumbs to hang from his thick leather belt. "A tragedy is an understatement on what should be a happy occasion and union of these two. Was there no indication of a growing rift or violent nature between them?"

"Nae, as far as anyone had known or said they were of a gracious and noble coupling that brought great cheer to these parts," Pilous answered sadly. "My regret is not knowing them better so as to perhaps see the signs of this dark shadow clinging to them."

Ser Astrin raised a hand to stall the man, shaking his head to add much needed emphasis. "Do not dwell on the 'should have', we may only now deal with the 'what is'. And what we have is a man dishonored and kin broken."

"Do you think this could be related to the Night?" Pilous asked quietly. Rumors of the traitors of the Empire had been swirling within many a common room lately with whispers of a madness claiming those closest to the Light when the 'darkening' would come. The hope of the collective had been that the Order was on the out with the death of their leader Aelric Leid, but fear planted strong roots in even the most stalwart.

Ser Astrin was silent.

Pilous would finally ask the question on all minds. "What are we to do?"

The knight would begin to stroke his mustache again, an act some might construe as a nervous tick but the older man would vehemently retort as contemplative. Regardless it always lapsed into awkward and long pauses to action.

"Ser Astrin?"

A hard snort of the old man would finalize his decision, no matter his dislike in it's simplicity. "Gather up the body and get it out of here. Quietly. Gossip is the last thing we need regarding a fallen member of the Flame. Dishonored or not, the optics will not be good for the smallfolk to find one of his stature to fall like this."

"As for Brightwrit," Ser Astrin continued as he looked back to the dull witted woman in a torn robe and soaked in blood. "Let's try to get her cleaned up and comfortable. Hopefully she will come out of it as we work but for such a thing to happen is highly understood for her current condition. If the Flame deems she will come through and we will get the truth from living tongues than still knaves."

Pilous nodded softly as he looked from the body and back to Fayle. "Poor woman."

"Indeed, no bride should bear the weight of a widow in the same day," Ser Astrin murmured softly as found his head built on a swivel of disgust at the incident before them.

Hospitallar Pilous and Ser Astrin kept their gold tinged eyes locked on to the still woman who sat with unblinking eyes, the former handkerchief long since floated to the floor. Her hands were caked with the drying, black blood of her former betrothed as it stained her wedding dress into a shawl of mourning. Her face was flecked with the same bits of blood and gore from her short black hair to her rounded chin framing a pair of dull violet tinged eyes. There was a strangeness to her that made both men uneasy to stare to long.

The beautiful, settled peace about the grim flat of her mouth spoke volumes.

@daily-writing-challenge