ferilclawmane

[ferilclawmane]

Hand tattoos by © 12.bbk.

Hand tattoos by © 12.bbk.

[ferilclawmane]

Tattoo art by © Baegi.

Artist location: Seoul, South Korea.

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Artist location: Seoul, South Korea.

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[ferilclawmane]

Black tattoos by © Mayonaize. 

[ferilclawmane]

Dark tattoos by © 12.bbk

[ferilclawmane]

Dubak

[ferilclawmane]

Night Elf Headcanons - Tattoos

These are headcanons for the Kaldorei that I’ve crafted or figured out with my own comic in mind. So if they are different from more widely accepted headcanons about the same subjects (or contradict them completely) that is why. Still I thought they were worth sharing! I divided them based on subject so I’m not posting them all in one massive wall of text.

– Family and home life tradition headcanons

Some parts of these headcanons may already be known and accepted by RPers but I wanted to add some of my own ideas to them as well.

Here’s my headcanons for Kaldorei tattoos!

Kaldorei tattoos are done the same way as Filipino Kalinga tattoos. Basically, two sticks: one with a needle or thorn on the end and one that is blunt. The thorn/needle is dipped in wet charcoal (or colored wet charcoal in the Night Elves’ case) and then the thorn/needle is tapped repeatedly into the skin with the blunt stick. 

Deciding on marks can happen via meditation and introspection, or physical revelation. For some female Kaldorei, tattoo marks come to them in a clear message or physical experience, for others it comes in a vision or cryptic physical or spiritual message. For some it is revealed through multiple ways. All are valid and can happen in a matter of moments or over a long period of time.

The marks each heave meaning and one that connects deeply to each wearer. But sometimes even they do not know the meaning until much later in life.

Not choosing marks or not receiving a clear message for marks, while uncommon, can be considered normal still. Some night elf women never receive their marks and it is typically a non-problem. However, some Kaldorei may adhere to strict traditional beliefs and look down upon those who chose to not receive marks.

Typically, each female Kaldorei is paired with a mentor or Do within their projected profession or class leading up to them receiving their marks. Although, sometimes this mentor can simply be a close family friend, older sibling, or family member.

The pain of getting it is the real test. While learning what your marks ARE is the first big test, the real ordeal is actually getting them. Most get them in sessions that take a few days at least. Although, some brave through it and get it done quicker. While pain can be dealt with afterward, it is typically seen as a sign of strength when one can withstand the pain as the ceremony is underway.

Tattooing is usually done by a close female family member (mother, grandmother…great grandmother, or aunt, older sibling…) who has already received her marks. This is partly because it helps emphasize the relationship of Mother Moon and her children, but also for practical reasons. The closer the better, as the sticks used for tattooing are passed down and are only used on close family members as a health precaution. 

A priest (or druid) is present to bless the ceremony and to keep swelling and bleeding at bay. While it is sort of considered taboo to heal while the ceremony is underway, having a healer present ensures that any excess health concerns or aftermath swelling and pains are dealt with quickly.

Tattoos are actually common for both male and female, often as a way to show achievements, social standing, and pride in something. While the Kaldorei females are known widely around the world to be the tattooed ones of their race, that is mainly because the facial tattoos are so culturally significant and symbolistic. But many Kaldorei have tattoos (often hidden by clothes or smaller on the body) of symbols or phrases relating to their achievements in life, class, interests, faith/Elune, or their loved one(s). 

Since they are a long-lived race, the tattoos often fade and must have touch-ups.  Some chose to maintain the upkeep, while others may let them fade. 

[ferilclawmane]

Tattoo works by © Sandry Riffard. Artist location: Le Puy-En Velay, France.

[ferilclawmane]

tattoo artworks © Matthew Murray

[ferilclawmane]

@cleansedbymoonlight​

[ferilclawmane]

The Letter

The hour was late on a more rare as of recent trip to the Alliance capital. The night air was cool on his skin, the satchel at his shoulder heavy with supplies and treats. The cherry of his cigarette burned bright as he inhaled, casting a mild glow about his bearded features, matching the glow from his amber hues. Smoke trailed after him as he walked, heading along an alleyway towards the mage tower. Old Town had been quiet in recent times, something he was grateful for after the absolute lunacy that had infected the place not all that long ago. 

His thoughts lingered on the wife and daughter awaiting him at home, leaving his heart with a swell and a faint smile curled on his lips. For a moment, those thoughts were so deep he almost didn’t notice the unnatural pool of blood forming a few paces ahead. It wasn’t until the moon’s light caught just right that he came to a halt, hand flying to his blade as the stars shrouded him in Elune’s grace. Tensed and ready to strike, he paused to see what manner of fuckery might befall him. 

First, horns rose, then the top of a head, finally the entire visage and so on, until what some might think was an elegant and striking draenei woman stood before him, not a drop of that blood pool upon her. Tall, as tall as the man himself and perhaps even a bit more, stood the woman - long white locks of hair flowing around her features. Crimson eyes stared from blackened sockets, the darkened veins spidering out from them like some sort of deathly corruption. 

“Feril Clawmane.” 

The man tensed and let out a huffed grunt at the sound of the voice. This was by no means a method of being stopped he’d experienced before and it set him on edge.

“Speak quickly your reason for being here.” 

The woman let out a mirthy chuckle, reaching a hand into a long sleeve to withdraw a letter, which she held over to him. 

“Do not act so surprised, ancient one. I am not here, set against you. Rather, I am here to enlighten you. To help you. To reunite you with something long lost.” 

His amber hues had taken on a golden tone, shining more brightly from his sockets than before. Ears flicking, he simply stared at the letter for a long few moments, leading the woman’s lips to flatten as she shook the letter once. 

“Your caution is admirable but as I said, I am not here as your enemy. Now take this. It will be the first step in a journey I believe you will find comforting.” 

A voice in his head told him it was okay, that there was nothing foul about the letter - at least in aura. The stars still hung about him, like weapons hovering and waiting to strike out as he reached for the letter. Once it was in hand, he looked the envelope over. The only script was scrawled elegantly and read ‘An’da’. His heart seized in his chest before he went to try and grab the woman. She was suddenly several steps away, as if she’d simply glided from his grasp. 

“You may not touch me. What you may do though, is read that. Read it all and then be there at the given time. Do not disappoint her.” 

The mirthy tone was long gone and there was almost something like a coldness in her voice, perhaps something protective. In another instant, she had sunk from sight, back into the pool of blood which receded from sight altogether after another moment, no trace that it was ever there. His hand shook now, unusually so, while he looked down at the letter. He didn’t want to open it, he felt like he was already being tricked - in the cruelest way possible. With a shake of his head, he reached out over the seal, determining if his daughter and wife were safe. When he knew they were, he fell against the wall of the alley, slowly sliding down to sit. 

Ever so slowly, he brought the envelope up and turned it over. Sharp nails slid into a crease and peeled the fold open all before he carefully pulled the letter from within. As if in a daze, he unfolded it, until it’s contents were revealed. Fine script filled the page, with what may have been a sketch near the bottom. Golden hues faded to amber as he was given a moment to himself, hands trembling as he tried to still them to read. 

‘An’da, 

How would I even begin?  How would I ever explain what has transpired? For the longest time, all I can recall was being surrounded by darkness. Achingly lonesome and terrifying darkness. So long was I in darkness that I forgot everything and everyone I had ever known. I lay, curled 

into a ball in that darkness, waiting… Hoping… For something I had long forgotten. 

One day I was ripped from that darkness, the darkness that I had almost found comforting in the end. I was lost, no idea who I was, where I was, why I was there. I saw things. Things I was told to speak aloud. A woman touched by spiders. Another swathed in shadows. I knew where to find them and that seemed enough at first. It wasn’t until I was used, like some crude vessel, that things changed. 

I wandered, I believe I even killed, seeking to quench an undying thirst and to find solace in the darkness once more. That is, until a peculiar woman found me. Perhaps the first to show me kindness since I’d left the darkness. I was guided to where I now call home. Shown to a woman who I thought was to be my mother at first. Certainly she has been as such to me, since I was brought to her. I remember conversations. I remember speaking them to her, to the other woman. Letting them know what I saw and what I did not. Something like kindness or affection for me came from the woman and she worked to help me. To restore me. 

I fought at first but then, in time, I conceded and indeed, she helped. Withered flesh returned to being full, my mind once shattered began to reform. It was then that I had my first memories of you. Of min’da. I can see it now as if I was standing there. Your smiling features, her moonlit eyes. The way she looked at you and you in turn looked at me. The love of a father and a mother. The love of a family I had long lost and forgotten. 

I am uncertain if you have moved on, if you have forgotten me. I don’t want to believe you have but even so… I would still like the chance to speak with you. I know your heart must be clenched as you read this. I know what you must be thinking. The fear, the anger, the sense of being lost. You need not risk everything you love, to speak to me. 

In Boralus, in a week’s time, I will be at a restaurant. The only of it’s kind. Open air and in the Upton Borough. From noon to Dusk, I will wait. If you choose not to come, I will understand. Some things lost must feel better to leave that way. I hope however, that is not the case for you. 

With love, 

Your daughter, 

Haeshia’ 

A sketch, of that moment she described, rested at the bottom of the page, the three of them together and smiling, the likeness uncanny. 

His hands shook, the letter falling from his sight as tears rolled down his cheeks. It sounded as though it were her, yet all the same something sounded different. Why would someone drag this from his past to torment him with it now? Unless it was no gimmick. 

It was a long time he sat there, longer than he should have been, before he pushed himself to his feet. Carefully, he folded the letter and returned it to the envelope, which he tucked carefully into his vest. 

No’Vindere. 

He need to speak with her. She would have some sort of advice. At the very least, she would know his pain to push him correctly. His feet began to move of their own accord almost, dragging him through the city and towards the portals that would take him home.

(Tagging @cleansedbymoonlight​ and @velerodra-valesinger​ for mentions) 

[ferilclawmane]

@cleansedbymoonlight

[ferilclawmane]

the path ahead.

Nine months. 

She felt like a ghost of herself. To say she was unhappy would have been wrong, No’Vindere had simply settled into a routine. It was the longest stint of sobriety that she’d had since The Sundering, suddenly she was to be someone’s mother and she wondered how anyone could ever trust her with someone else’s life. Not just a life, a small little light– the that was a sunbeam shining through the canopy trees. 

The most frightening part was that she wasn’t certain. Certain that even after 10,000 years she was ready to be a mother. 

Her stomach was swollen and moved curiously with each little kick that the little child made. On the lounge in her office, she watched the baby moving around in wonder. Many things scientific didn’t scare her– enamor her. But that did. 

Endessa’s footsteps were always barely audible, but the gait was unmistakable. Soon, the magus rounded the corner with her hands tucked up in her sleeves– a dark Duskbringer gaze fixed upon her. “I can feel your worry on the other side of the Reach.” 

No’Vindere scoffed, sitting up. “Can you teacher?” She stared at the washed stone of the floor. “I don’t know what I am now. Sometimes I think about what I was before– didn’t feel much but, I knew my purpose. Now what is it? Wife? Mother?” “Ah, yes,” Endessa said, gliding across the floor to sit beside her. “You want to know what happens now that a little elf depends on you solely to survive. That a man depends on you to stay and to love him. You and Ei’lithene always had the ..discomfort at being stagnate.”

“I have been stagnate. I have been not stagnate. Both existences have always been…empty.” No’Vi pushed her hand back through her hair. “I used to find purpose in sifting through books and tomes– my plants. Feril– he.. changed something in me. I..want to be around him and Jam’Voree. I love them.”  “I know you do. But what else?” 

What else is there? No’Vindere shook her head. “I want to find my Dead Sun– not literally, but rather, I want what Eilithe has– what Reveria– that fucking passion. About their kids, about Dead Sun, about… moving forward, not running away. I want to be a mother. I want to be wife. I want to be me, too.” 

Endessa chuckled taking No’Vi’s hand in hers. “None of those things make you stop being you– I don’t think you ever found yourself after you were purged. Have the baby and give it time– let yourself feel the pain of growth, let yourself feel happy. Your path is there, you merely need walk it.”

@ferilclawmane​ @theshalthera​

[ferilclawmane]

The New Chapter

It had been a long time. Years, centuries... Millennia... 

All that time since he’d been in this place. Only one other time he’d found a reason to be there. A clearing in a wooded area. A fire rippling, crackling, and roaring nearby. 

Feril stood with his back to the fire, near the edge of the clearing, peering out into the shadow cloaked woods. This was not Dead Sun. Not by any stretch. No, this was a place far from where he now called home. A long drag on the cigarette that rested in his lips was had before he let the smoke billow from his nostrils as he turned. 

Flicking the butt into the fire, he pulled out a pouch of herbs and threw those upon the fire as well. Soon, pungent smoke filled the air and he breathed deep before beginning to move in a slow circle around the fire. The flames danced across his tattooed flesh, making the marks appear almost wild and fiendish in ways as his eyes slowly bean to glaze. 

To his eyes, the smoke in the clearing began to take shape, humanoid in shape before they resolved even further to look distinctly elvish and distinctly as the man’s ancestors. They began to form in a circle about the edge of the clearing and the tattooist took his time to look over each of them with a grunt and nod. Men and women alike, some more distant than others before one stepped out to halt his continuous pacing.  A woman, haughty and gaunt stood only a few inches shorter than Feril, her hair falling in billowing waves to drag as smoke along the ground. 

“You are a disappointment, once more. You have sullied our line. Brought impurity to the name Clas’Maela.” 

For a long moment, his amber hues regarded the spirit before he grunted and walked right through her, a surprised gasp issuing from the smoke as it reformed at the clearing’s edge once more. 

As he continued, a man now stepped out and slapped him across the face with a ghostly backhand. A growl issued from Feril’s throat, yet he did not strike back. 

“She is right. You have chosen a peasant. Unworthy to carry our name or our seed. You have become our greatest failure.” 

Hardly had the man finished before Feril walked through the smoky figure, sending it back to it’s place at the edge of the clearing. His jaw clenched and his head shook slightly as he continued to stalk around the fire. For the second time, he endured because he must. There was a purpose. There was a reason. He would do this. Eventually, with a snarl, the man of few words roared out into the night. 

“WILL NONE OF YOU SEE THIS DONE?” 

With a huff, he resumed his pacing until another woman stepped out and stopped his path. She was altogether too familiar and Feril’s eyes grew wide. Shimmers of violet flowed over the smoke that was her hair and her noble yet kind features regarded Feril with concern. 

“You have walked much, you have come so very far. From the light, to the darkness, and back again. Back to this grove...” 

The man had no words, this being the last vision he expected before him tonight. The woman of smoke took his hand in her own and began to lead him in a pace about the fire, motioning with her free hand about the clearing. 

“I can see why you chose this place. I was always curious to see it... It is beautiful. Peaceful. Full of life and energy.” 

A smoky finger trailed along, pointing at all the spirits present. 

“None of these people matter any longer. Not even I matter any longer. What matters is the life you have created that will soon be in your arms. The one you have created this life with. The family you have now that you chose... Not that you were burdened with from birth...” 

She stopped once more and turned to face Feril, who once more tried to speak but found he had now words. A smoky hand ran over his cheek and rested on his chest before the woman stooped down and dug among the grass and dirt. When she stood, she placed a hand over Feril’s own and dropped something within it. 

“It is done. Do not let the past haunt you. Move on from all of this and take the life you want once more...” 

With that, she began to drift backwards and offered a faint wave. 

“Ya’Til-Anath...” 

The smoky figures all soon swirled together and the smoke whirled up through the trees and away into the night. Feril’s amber hues followed it for a time before he looked down to his closed fit. Fingers slowly unfurling, they revealed a single acorn like seed resting in his palm. With a breath out, the man took a seat on a nearby stone and held the seed up, examining it. 

“I will see you to grow alongside the one you  are meant for. The one that will wield you and learn to grow with you...” 

With that, his fingers closed once more around the seed and his eyes stared into the flames. In time, he found his way back to Dead Sun, his precious cargo in tow. 

@cleansedbymoonlight​

[ferilclawmane]

@cleansedbymoonlight

[ferilclawmane]

A piece that somehow never got uploaded! Wonderful and incredible headshot by the amazingly talented @kingratsthings / @eilitheduskbringer! I love it! <3 

[ferilclawmane]

Daniels Bauti

[ferilclawmane]