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Aesthetic Boards

Had some fun making aesthetic boards for Khadgar and Medivh.

Khadgar Board:

A romantic board with hints of stress and sadness. I tend to headcanon that Khadgar is a romantic at heart. Time is not his friend, whether it’s his curse or the next potentially world-ending threat that suddenly arrives. He tends to live vicariously through characters in books and his friends.

Medivh Board:

Where Khadgar’s board is softer, Medivh’s board is more dramatic. I’ve always headcanoned him as a man that tried to live as vibrantly as he could, while he could during his previous life. Hermit life doesn’t suit him, he hates it. There’s a lot to unpack there, way too much.

RavenTrust Board:

Not too much to say here. XD But I had a lot of fun making these.

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Playing with a small personal project. Making something featuring some the evolution of my WoL as I headcanon it. There’s some canon divergences here and there.

Final Fantasy 1.0:

Corven was an employee of the Gold Saucer. They had a comfortable life, their father had recently gotten married, and he loved his job. For all intents and purposes, Corven’s life was good but he always wrestled against a desire to travel. At first, he stayed for his father, who was a single dad doing his best to raise him well. After his father married, Corven moved out to live on his own, and found that without his father to look after, his wanderlust only grew. Then he kept making more excuses for himself to stay. He had a great job, his own apartment, good pay, why disrupt any of that? Corven was happy, or at least he should be. Sensing his discontent, his father is always keeping an eye out for any potentially good romantic matches for Corven. While it is half jokingly, as Corven’s father is mischievous and enjoys playfully teasing him, he does worry for him. With the end of 1.0, Corven finally decides that he will go out to travel and become an adventurer. Life suddenly felt too short to keep lying to himself and staying in one place.

Final Fantasy: A Realm Reborn:

By the time ARR starts, Corven’s been traveling for a year and a half. He’s been roaming around Eorzea, not really with a dead set plan. He winds up in the city of Limsa Lominsa, goes on a bender, and ends up having strange dreams of a giant crystal. Corven couldn’t quite hear or understand what they were saying, it sounding oddly muffled and far away. Upon waking Corven had found that he had been crying in his sleep. He passes it off, joking with himself that it was out of fear. ( Deep down, he knew it was from a strange mix of anger and sadness that he couldn’t explain, it was unnerving. ) Looking in a mirror, Corven tries to psyche himself up for a new day. He tells himself it’s going to be fine, great even. That he was going to one day be one of the best adventurers on the continent. It’s not a serious goal, just means to warm himself up and get the day started. This was the beginning of Corven’s problems, sometimes he will look back on this day and wish he had just stayed in bed. (More Details under the cut.)

Keep reading

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My book is finally out! The Viklander Menagerie brings fantastically strange creatures and delightfully odd treasures to your Pathfinder2e games! You can check some page previews and grab it from DrivethruRPG

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i figured it out

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yeah.

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happy halloween, and a merry all saints’ wake!

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All witchcraft comes from carnal lust, which in women is insatiable.

-- Malleus Maleficarum

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an animation loop I had as a WIP on my PC for aaaaaages. I decided to finish it finally... It still has issues here and there but I find it cute enough.

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Repostober Fic Collection

Not art, but writing instead. Here's links to a few of my works that I am particularly proud of from over the years:

Mask of the Rose/Fallen London

Dreams of Home

Archibald Reid had finally returned to the surface. He hadn’t realized just how much he had changed. There was a time where he wanted nothing more than the sun and returning to Glasgow. But now, he found himself a stranger to all the things he once found familiar. Archie tries to find solace in his dreams. WARNING: This fic contains spoilers for the 'Baptism' ending of Mask of the Rose.

World of Warcraft

A Twist of Fate

Type: Alternate Timeline, Did a lot of mixing of lore sources from things like 'The Last Guardian, The Movie, WoW, and Hearthstone's One Night in Karazhan to make this.

Warnings: In later chapters there's a bit of horror and psychological horror. This is a character study and exploration of both Khadgar and Medivh.

Main Characters: Khadgar and Medivh

Pairings: RavenTrust (Friendship and eventually romance (not there yet currently)

Curiosity was considered both a valuable trait and horrible vice of mages. It was his own curiosity that got Khadgar shipped off from the only home he had known.

AU Snippet: Dark Deals

Type: Modern!AU, Snippet based off an old RP

Main Characters: Medivh and Kel'Thuzad

Pairings: Kel'Thuzad/Medivh, hinted RavenTrust

Warnings: Spiders, Dubious Consent

Modern!AU. A crime intertwines the worlds of humans and of magic and mages. To help Lothar and protect Khadgar, Medivh must pay a visit to the dark underbelly of his world. Important Note: This is a snippet I adapted a scene from a past RP I did with a friend. I took it and adapted it into a oneshot as a writing exercise.

The Dragon Prince and the Recluse

Main Characters: Medivh and Wrathion

Pairings: Mentioned Hinted Raventrust, (Once I continue an) eventual friendship with Wrathion and Medivh.

It took a bit of work on Khadgar's part to convince Medivh to let the 'dragon prince' stay in his home. Wrathion isn't sure what to make of Karazhan, the ghosts within, or her reclusive master. He heard stories of Medivh, a guardian of Azaroth who fell from grace. Even his father was quite wary of the mage yet Wrathion is far from impressed. A Guardian is meant to protect Azeroth, not lock themself away in self-exile.

Dark Eyes Over Stormwind Keep

Pairings: Wrathion/Anduin, Wrathion & Medivh (friendship)

Warnings: Mild Body Horror

Haunted in his dreams, Anduin teeters on the line between light and shadow.

My Hero Academia

Heroes are for Fiction

Type: Writer!AU

Warnings: This one I wrote when I was in a particularly dark place. Feelings of depression and suicidal ideation. It was a theraputic bit of writing for me as I was navigating heavy emotions at the time.

Main Characters: Toshinori Yagi, Inko Midoriya, Izuku Midoriya

Pairings & Relationships: Inko/Toshinori, Izuku & Toshinori (Fatherly bond)

After a devastating personal tragedy, author Toshinori withdraws into loneliness and depression--at least until a face from his past comes back to remind him that heroes are not just for the fiction he writes.

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Warcraft Fanfic: A Twist of Fate Chapter 7

Author's Note: Chapter 7 is up on AO3!

Chapter 7: The Masks We Wear

-o-o-o-o-o-

Northshire Abbey was one of the most peaceful places Khadgar had ever stayed at. Which made it all the more unsettling to him. There was no doubt that the abbey was beautiful, it had the feel and charm as many old places did. The building stood tall and proud, made of stone that was carved into ornate iconography of the religion of ‘The Light’. Symbols above archways and statues of heroes and saints of the past lined the walls of corridors in niches or stood in the abbey garden. The inside of the abbey was also cool, something Khadgar very much appreciated, as the climate in the south of the continent was much warmer than back home.

There always seemed to be the lingering distant smells of incense, old books, or cooking food. Khadgar couldn’t say it was a ‘bad’ place to stay, but he certainly felt out of place. He hadn’t been to a church service since he was a child, before coming to Dalaran. It was a time he preferred not to think about.

So Khadgar kept himself busy. He was settled in a chair in the room Medivh had been laid to rest in. He worked on writing notes and sketches of the events that had happened the night before. It was hard to believe any of it was real. Khadgar would sometimes look down at his hand, the one that held Medivh’s dagger, and find it trembling. Sometimes when he dozed off, he’d relive furiously stabbing the scarecrow he protected Medivh from. Only Khadgar would end up seeing that the scarecrow was himself. His own blue eyes were glassy and dull, staring upwards at the sky. Khadgar was certain a part of him died that night, as for which part, he wasn’t sure. ‘Innocence’ didn’t exactly fit with everything he’d seen and done while uncovering secrets in Dalaran. If it was, then it may have been the very last shreds of innocence he had.

Khadgar paused in his work and looked at his sleeping companion. Medivh was still in a deep sleep. It was later in the afternoon and he had been slowly recovering. Now Medivh looked as though he had aged only about ten years. The gray in his hair had returned to its deep black color and color returned to his face. He still looked drained and fragile. It made Khadgar feel uneasy.

Looking down at his notes, Khadgar was reminded that Medivh had been targeted. The fog, the gnolls that tracked them like animals, someone had it out for Medivh. It made Khadgar eye every visiting nurse, doctor, or worker with a hint of suspicion. He’d watch everyone and what they did around or to Medivh carefully. If he was being targeted, then it surely wouldn’t be the only attempt.

Khadgar kept Medivh’s dagger close by, promising himself that he’d return it when he woke up.

The sound of heavy footsteps drew his attention towards the door. Anduin Lothar had arrived and stood in the doorway, giving Khadgar a confused look. He then noticed the cot set up close to Medivh’s bed and frowned.

“Don’t tell me the folks here weren’t able to set you up with a room.” Lothar said. “I’ll have things sorted ou--”

“They did.” Khadgar spoke up, cutting him off. “I turned them down and asked to stay here.”

Lothar canted his head a little when he heard that answer, looking even more confused. “What? Why? Trust me, the Lord Magus won’t go anywhere.”

“I’d rather not leave him alone right now.” Khadgar said, his voice sounding more firm. He was a little surprised at himself with how he spoke up. Especially to a man that could easily fold him in half. Khadgar swallowed down the sudden nervousness and continued. “Someone was targeting Lord Aran last night.”

Lothar crossed his arms, his gaze turning hard and a little dark. “Are you certain?” -o-o-o-o-o-

The rest can be found on AO3: Chapter 7 New to the fic? Start at the beginning.

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Warcraft Fic: A Twist of Fate Chapter 6: Night of the Wicked Harvest

Chapter 6: Night of the Wicked Harvest

Author’s Notes: Okay, so, some warnings for this chapter. This chapter ended up being really long and having a lot of stuff happening in it. Also beware of horror elements and imagery.I also play with a lot of headcanons and worldbuilding in this chapter.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Khadgar clung to Medivh for dear life. He watched as the mountains of Deadwind Pass sped past, giving way to the forests of Sunny Glade. The tops of trees were a sea of rustling green bathed in the moonlight. The gryphon was suddenly jostled a little by a powerful gust of wind. Khadgar tightened his hold on the Magus and buried his face into the back of Medivh’s cloak.

“You okay back there?” Medivh called out over the wind.

“Y-yeah…!” Khadgar said, muffled against the cloak. “I’ve…just never been this high up before…!”

“We can go a bit lower if you need!” Medivh offered. Another squeeze around his waist was all the answer he needed. Carefully, Medivh steered his Gryphon to glide lower. “We’ll be reaching Elwynn soon. Hang in there, and please don’t throw up. If you throw up, I throw up, that’s unfortunately the rule.”

Khadgar turned his head and looked out once more. The sight of the ground being closer put him more at ease, and he gave a sigh of relief. It was amazing how fast the flight made the trip through Sunny Glade. Already Khadgar could see the river that divided Elywnn and Sunny Glade just up ahead. His hold on Medivh loosened, if only a little, as he pulled back just enough to get a better look around.

“Nothing quite like flying, huh?” Medivh called out to the younger mage.

Khadgar said nothing. He was too busy focusing on the feeling of flight. The wind blowing past them, the view of the moon above, the coolness of the night air. His anxiety melted away to an emotion he couldn’t quite name. Khadgar had seen many things done with magic throughout his life. What most would find amazing and wondrous was mundane to him. But there, in the skies, he felt goosebumps rise from his skin and a chill crawl up his spine. It was the first time in a long while that Khadgar felt a genuine sense of wonder.

They rode the winds. Medivh guided the gryphon to fly up a little higher, putting more distance between them and the trees. They soared over secluded forest houses, and soon enough, they arrived at a small town. The gryphon flew towards a tower that looked over it all. Khadgar had recognized it as a roost, where gryphons were usually kept. He had seen them when running errands for Guzbah. It then occurred to Khadgar that many of the errands he’d run that took him outside of Dalaran would have been much easier if they allowed him to use the gryphon services. Perhaps Guzbah thought it’d help Khadgar build some character. That was the usual excuse older people made. He wasn’t ready to think the worst of the man.

Medivh steered the gryphon in for a landing. Upon touching ground and trotting to a stop, Medivh patted the beast on the side of its neck affectionately, and praised her. “Good girl, thank you for the ride. We’ll be back soon.”

Medivh then climbed down from the saddle and offered a hand to Khadgar to help him down. He then turned his attention to one of the saddlebags, opened it up, and rummaged through it. He pulled out a quite old looking staff, adorned with a long red ribbon, a couple of baubles that hung from them, and an elegant-looking raven at its top. Khadgar could feel power thrumbing from within the staff. He had seen such things in Dalaran. Works of craftsmanship made from precious metals, rare woods, and gems. They had practical uses as focuses, allowing for spellwork to be done without the usual needed components. But they also were flaunted as status symbols. The more ornate, the more beautiful, was meant to say a lot about the mage holding it. Medivh’s staff was simple, beautifully carved, but lacked a lot of the usual flare. Khadgar couldn’t help the feeling of curiosity that nibbled away at him. There was a mystery there.

“Welcome to Goldshire.” Medivh announced, breaking Khadgar away from his thoughts. “We will not be staying here for long. It’s a nice little town during the day but…quite a strange place at night. I’m going to get our gryphon situated. Please don’t wander off.”

Khadgar frowned a little and looked out at the small town from the roost. He had to admit; it was certainly more lively than he would have expected a place to be at this time of night. There were plenty of people out on the streets. Their dress was certainly ‘different’. Khadgar could have sworn he spotted a pair dressed as the front and back ends of a horse meeting up with someone dressed in dark leather, sporting a riding crop. He could hear loud music in the distance and saw multi-colored lights flashing in the windows of what he assumed was a pub. He had to wonder if there was a festival happening.

Khadgar felt curiosity tugging at him. Surely it wouldn’t be too bad if he just went down and waited by the entrance, right? Perfectly harmless. With that thought in mind, Khadgar went on ahead, going down a set of stairs and stepping outside of the roost. He found himself suddenly swept away by a group of passersby. They barely paid him much attention, too focused on where they were heading. Khadgar stumbled free from the group, only to bump into another night dweller, and was shoved out of the way.

Khadgar almost tripped over himself before his back hit a brick wall. He could feel a sudden fear wash over him. He looked around and realized he had moved quite a distance away from the roost. Khadgar could feel his heartbeat picking up, he placed a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm it. He didn’t need his magic lashing out.

“J-just go back in the direction you came, you’ll be right back where you started.” Khadgar told himself. It felt more grounding to hear it, even if it was just from himself.

Khadgar took one deep breath, then one more, and the anxiety calmed, if only a little. He moved, looking up to find where the roost was. He saw the landing and more unease faded as he picked up the pace. Everything was fine. He’d be there in a minut–

A pair of arms reached out and grabbed onto him. A large, calloused hand clamped onto his mouth as the other arm snaked around his middle. Khadgar then found himself dragged into an alleyway. He was shoved against the wall of a building, his kidnapper’s forearm pressed against his throat. The glint of metal immediately caught Khadgar’s attention. His eyes locked onto the blade held close to his face, then moved to the face of the man who held it. Heat in the alleyway gradually rose. The palms of Khadgar’s hands began to itch and feel hot.

“What do we have here?” his captor said as he looked Khadgar over. “Todd, check his bag.”

Another man walked over and tore open Khadgar’s satchel. They rummaged through it. The silver cricket moved out of the way of the searching hand and hid in one of the bag’s inner pockets. The thief began tossing aside items. A makeshift book, a pack of tools. They were about to toss vials of catalysts until Khadgar found the ability to speak up.

“Those are valuable. Don’t throw them!”

The thief paused before giving a look at the vial in his hand. It was full of what appeared to be crushed amethyst. The corner of their mouth quirked into a crooked smile before he placed them back into the satchel. “May as well take the whole thing.”

Khadgar’s hand slammed down on the satchel. He couldn’t let them take it. He felt more pressure pressed against his neck. It was hard to breathe, let alone speak. Still, Khadgar’s stubbornness spurred him on, forcing out syllable after syllable of a spell.

He moved his hand from his satchel and grabbed onto the upper arm of the thief, crushing his throat. His palm ignited with roaring flames, the flash from the spell blinded the thief and Khadgar was able to push him off of himself. He gasped and gulped for air, breaking out into a cough.

“It’s a damned spellchucker! Forget this, you’re on your own!” The other thief sped out from the alleyway and disappeared into the crowds.

Khadgar moved to grab his spellbook and tools, but felt a violent tug on his hair. The thief that had pinned him had recovered and wasn’t about to let him go. He wrenched Khadgar onto the ground and sat on top of him. Before the young mageling could speak another spell, the thief’s hand clamped over his mouth. Khadgar’s hands shot up, trying to pry the hand away, but a glint caught his eye. The thief was about to plunge his knife down into him.

“That’s enough of that, thank you!”

Khadgar could have sworn he heard a familiar voice. He was too focused on the knife to be too sure. Suddenly, it moved away, trailing off to the side as the hand that held it struggled to keep a grip on it. Khadgar looked upwards and saw the hunched over form of Medivh. He stood behind the thief, the man’s ear pinched tightly between the Magus’ fingers.

“How about you leave the lad alone and you get to keep your ear?” Medivh said before turning his wrist a little. The thief cried out in pain but was guided to move to the side, and off of the mageling.

Khadgar scrambled to put as much distance as he could between himself and the thief. He watched as Medivh let go and stood at full height. The Magus was a considerably tall man. He had a lean build but with his feathered mantle and his staff at his side; he looked truly imposing.

The irises of Medivh’s eyes glowed a venomous green. In the shadows of the alley, he went from imposing to outright frightening. A boogeyman made real. “I’m not in the mood to deal with you. Leave us.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

The rest can be found on AO3

If you are new to the fic, Chapter 1 starts here.

[mischievouswritingblog]

Warcraft Fic: A Twist of Fate Chapter 6: Night of the Wicked Harvest

Chapter 6: Night of the Wicked Harvest

Author’s Notes: Okay, so, some warnings for this chapter. This chapter ended up being really long and having a lot of stuff happening in it. Also beware of horror elements and imagery.I also play with a lot of headcanons and worldbuilding in this chapter.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Khadgar clung to Medivh for dear life. He watched as the mountains of Deadwind Pass sped past, giving way to the forests of Sunny Glade. The tops of trees were a sea of rustling green bathed in the moonlight. The gryphon was suddenly jostled a little by a powerful gust of wind. Khadgar tightened his hold on the Magus and buried his face into the back of Medivh’s cloak.

“You okay back there?” Medivh called out over the wind.

“Y-yeah…!” Khadgar said, muffled against the cloak. “I’ve…just never been this high up before…!”

“We can go a bit lower if you need!” Medivh offered. Another squeeze around his waist was all the answer he needed. Carefully, Medivh steered his Gryphon to glide lower. “We’ll be reaching Elwynn soon. Hang in there, and please don’t throw up. If you throw up, I throw up, that’s unfortunately the rule.”

Khadgar turned his head and looked out once more. The sight of the ground being closer put him more at ease, and he gave a sigh of relief. It was amazing how fast the flight made the trip through Sunny Glade. Already Khadgar could see the river that divided Elywnn and Sunny Glade just up ahead. His hold on Medivh loosened, if only a little, as he pulled back just enough to get a better look around.

“Nothing quite like flying, huh?” Medivh called out to the younger mage.

Khadgar said nothing. He was too busy focusing on the feeling of flight. The wind blowing past them, the view of the moon above, the coolness of the night air. His anxiety melted away to an emotion he couldn’t quite name. Khadgar had seen many things done with magic throughout his life. What most would find amazing and wondrous was mundane to him. But there, in the skies, he felt goosebumps rise from his skin and a chill crawl up his spine. It was the first time in a long while that Khadgar felt a genuine sense of wonder.

They rode the winds. Medivh guided the gryphon to fly up a little higher, putting more distance between them and the trees. They soared over secluded forest houses, and soon enough, they arrived at a small town. The gryphon flew towards a tower that looked over it all. Khadgar had recognized it as a roost, where gryphons were usually kept. He had seen them when running errands for Guzbah. It then occurred to Khadgar that many of the errands he’d run that took him outside of Dalaran would have been much easier if they allowed him to use the gryphon services. Perhaps Guzbah thought it’d help Khadgar build some character. That was the usual excuse older people made. He wasn’t ready to think the worst of the man.

Medivh steered the gryphon in for a landing. Upon touching ground and trotting to a stop, Medivh patted the beast on the side of its neck affectionately, and praised her. “Good girl, thank you for the ride. We’ll be back soon.”

Medivh then climbed down from the saddle and offered a hand to Khadgar to help him down. He then turned his attention to one of the saddlebags, opened it up, and rummaged through it. He pulled out a quite old looking staff, adorned with a long red ribbon, a couple of baubles that hung from them, and an elegant-looking raven at its top. Khadgar could feel power thrumbing from within the staff. He had seen such things in Dalaran. Works of craftsmanship made from precious metals, rare woods, and gems. They had practical uses as focuses, allowing for spellwork to be done without the usual needed components. But they also were flaunted as status symbols. The more ornate, the more beautiful, was meant to say a lot about the mage holding it. Medivh’s staff was simple, beautifully carved, but lacked a lot of the usual flare. Khadgar couldn’t help the feeling of curiosity that nibbled away at him. There was a mystery there.

“Welcome to Goldshire.” Medivh announced, breaking Khadgar away from his thoughts. “We will not be staying here for long. It’s a nice little town during the day but…quite a strange place at night. I’m going to get our gryphon situated. Please don’t wander off.”

Khadgar frowned a little and looked out at the small town from the roost. He had to admit; it was certainly more lively than he would have expected a place to be at this time of night. There were plenty of people out on the streets. Their dress was certainly ‘different’. Khadgar could have sworn he spotted a pair dressed as the front and back ends of a horse meeting up with someone dressed in dark leather, sporting a riding crop. He could hear loud music in the distance and saw multi-colored lights flashing in the windows of what he assumed was a pub. He had to wonder if there was a festival happening.

Khadgar felt curiosity tugging at him. Surely it wouldn’t be too bad if he just went down and waited by the entrance, right? Perfectly harmless. With that thought in mind, Khadgar went on ahead, going down a set of stairs and stepping outside of the roost. He found himself suddenly swept away by a group of passersby. They barely paid him much attention, too focused on where they were heading. Khadgar stumbled free from the group, only to bump into another night dweller, and was shoved out of the way.

Khadgar almost tripped over himself before his back hit a brick wall. He could feel a sudden fear wash over him. He looked around and realized he had moved quite a distance away from the roost. Khadgar could feel his heartbeat picking up, he placed a hand on his chest in an attempt to calm it. He didn’t need his magic lashing out.

“J-just go back in the direction you came, you’ll be right back where you started.” Khadgar told himself. It felt more grounding to hear it, even if it was just from himself.

Khadgar took one deep breath, then one more, and the anxiety calmed, if only a little. He moved, looking up to find where the roost was. He saw the landing and more unease faded as he picked up the pace. Everything was fine. He’d be there in a minut–

A pair of arms reached out and grabbed onto him. A large, calloused hand clamped onto his mouth as the other arm snaked around his middle. Khadgar then found himself dragged into an alleyway. He was shoved against the wall of a building, his kidnapper’s forearm pressed against his throat. The glint of metal immediately caught Khadgar’s attention. His eyes locked onto the blade held close to his face, then moved to the face of the man who held it. Heat in the alleyway gradually rose. The palms of Khadgar’s hands began to itch and feel hot.

“What do we have here?” his captor said as he looked Khadgar over. “Todd, check his bag.”

Another man walked over and tore open Khadgar’s satchel. They rummaged through it. The silver cricket moved out of the way of the searching hand and hid in one of the bag’s inner pockets. The thief began tossing aside items. A makeshift book, a pack of tools. They were about to toss vials of catalysts until Khadgar found the ability to speak up.

“Those are valuable. Don’t throw them!”

The thief paused before giving a look at the vial in his hand. It was full of what appeared to be crushed amethyst. The corner of their mouth quirked into a crooked smile before he placed them back into the satchel. “May as well take the whole thing.”

Khadgar’s hand slammed down on the satchel. He couldn’t let them take it. He felt more pressure pressed against his neck. It was hard to breathe, let alone speak. Still, Khadgar’s stubbornness spurred him on, forcing out syllable after syllable of a spell.

He moved his hand from his satchel and grabbed onto the upper arm of the thief, crushing his throat. His palm ignited with roaring flames, the flash from the spell blinded the thief and Khadgar was able to push him off of himself. He gasped and gulped for air, breaking out into a cough.

“It’s a damned spellchucker! Forget this, you’re on your own!” The other thief sped out from the alleyway and disappeared into the crowds.

Khadgar moved to grab his spellbook and tools, but felt a violent tug on his hair. The thief that had pinned him had recovered and wasn’t about to let him go. He wrenched Khadgar onto the ground and sat on top of him. Before the young mageling could speak another spell, the thief’s hand clamped over his mouth. Khadgar’s hands shot up, trying to pry the hand away, but a glint caught his eye. The thief was about to plunge his knife down into him.

“That’s enough of that, thank you!”

Khadgar could have sworn he heard a familiar voice. He was too focused on the knife to be too sure. Suddenly, it moved away, trailing off to the side as the hand that held it struggled to keep a grip on it. Khadgar looked upwards and saw the hunched over form of Medivh. He stood behind the thief, the man’s ear pinched tightly between the Magus’ fingers.

“How about you leave the lad alone and you get to keep your ear?” Medivh said before turning his wrist a little. The thief cried out in pain but was guided to move to the side, and off of the mageling.

Khadgar scrambled to put as much distance as he could between himself and the thief. He watched as Medivh let go and stood at full height. The Magus was a considerably tall man. He had a lean build but with his feathered mantle and his staff at his side; he looked truly imposing.

The irises of Medivh’s eyes glowed a venomous green. In the shadows of the alley, he went from imposing to outright frightening. A boogeyman made real. “I’m not in the mood to deal with you. Leave us.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

The rest can be found on AO3

If you are new to the fic, Chapter 1 starts here.

[mischievouswritingblog]

World of Warcraft fic: A Twist of Fate Chapter 5

I am back with a new chapter. Originally I was planning on posting this chapter along with chapter 6, but I decided to go ahead for that readers can have time to enjoy this one. Chapter 6 is currently in the works, I can’t guarantee when it will be out, but certainly sooner than my earlier updates.

Chapter 5: The Magus and the Mageling

-o-o-o-o-o-

  “You look absolutely miserable.” Moroes said. He noticed the empty wine bottle that rested on the table by Medivh’s couch-bed. The sorcerer himself lounged on the couch but looked anything but relaxed. Moroes noted the darkened circles under his eyes, the paleness of his usually tan skin. He had half a mind to say something but refrained. “Late night?” 

Medivh didn’t have the energy to muster up a witty retort. He followed Moroes’ eyes to the wine bottle and gave a small, tired sigh. “Something like that. I know you want me to head downstairs, but I’m not in good shape today. I’d like to have some time to myself.” 

Moroes knew that look and that tone in Medivh’s voice. Something happened. Something that left the sorcerer feeling awful. If Moroes had to take a guess, it was Medivh’s own doing. His eyes flitted about the study, taking in details in his usual calm and practiced way. 

A wine bottle caught Moroes’ attention first. Empty. More likely, Medivh was dealing with the repercussions of drinking too much. What caused him to drink in access though? As mischievous as the mage could be, Medivh had made it a point to cut down on drinking. Incidents that Medivh refused to talk about, had made states of inebriation and lack of control unsettling to him. 

“What happened?” Moroes asked. 

Medivh was quiet for a long moment. He didn’t launch into a tirade of hurt pride, annoyance with the Kirin Tor, no, he was quiet for a while. That made Moroes feel more unease than anything else. Medivh lightly chewed on his lower lip as he thought. 

“Would you say that I’m a bully, Moroes?” Medivh asked, the events of the night before were still fresh in his mind. He had been replaying the night’s events back in his head over and over. Dissecting it all. Over-thinking. He was awful to Khadgar. He had been awful to him for some time now. 

“It’s to tell me when there’s powerful or dangerous magic around. It’s to protect me, it’s my…friend.” Khadgar’s words rang up from the back of Medivh’s mind. The look on that boy’s face was enough to make him pause. To drag him back from the wine induced haze. “How would you feel if someone did that to the clockwork construct you’ve been working on?! Just tore it apart just because they could?! Just so they could hurt you!?” 

Medivh’s eyes were fixed on the ground. He  did  want to hurt Khadgar. He wanted him out of his home, away from Deadwind Pass, out of Stormwind. Anything to put as much distance between himself and the Kirin Tor as possible. Twelve mages were pushed onto him. Most of them betrayed him, stole from him, spoke of him behind his back.

“You can be, when you get a way.” Moroes said honestly. “You can be truly wicked when you want to be. I’ve found myself on the receiving end of that sharp tongue of yours once or twice. I’ve put you back in your place easily enough, but I feel sorry for those who don’t know how to handle you.”

“How often would you say that I act like that?” Medivh asked, truly curious.

“As of right now, very often.” Moroes admitted. “You’ve been giving Khadgar a hard time, though, you’ve been balancing it out, somewhat.”

Moroes watched Medivh’s expression shift, his refusal to meet his gaze. He looked every part a young lad that had been caught making trouble.

“What did you do?” Moroes asked, his brow furrowing.

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The rest of the chapter can be read on AO3.

If you are new or wish to start from the beginning, the fic starts here.