#dwc2020

[daily-writing-challenge]

Daily Writing Challenge is here!

-Any form of writing is welcome: drabbles, stories, poems, etc! -You can write more than one story per day! -The word(s) itself doesn’t need to be used, it’s just a general topic to write about! -Don’t feel like you need to write every day! -Late stories always welcome! -You do not have to be in the WoW fandom to participate! -All stories will be tagged with dwc2020, dayX2020 (X being whatever day the story is for), and your tumblr tag. -Don’t forget our optional challenges, found HERE!

Please tag @daily-writing-challenge on your work so we can reblog it, and clearly mark what day you are writing for so it can be tagged properly!

Good luck and more importantly, HAVE FUN! Can’t wait to see some stories!

[turning-through-the-never]

Daily Writing Challenge 2020

Last year, @kharrisdawndancer​ and myself hosted a Daily Writing Challenge during October and we want to do the same this year!

HOWEVER, this year will be a little different due to wanting to avoid the Shadowlands expansion, so the Challenge will run from September 20th to October 20th!

If you would like to join the Daily Writing Challenge (DWC) for 2020, I have changed up my Writing Challenge blog found HERE to use for this. General FAQ: -The prompt list will be posted in there closer to the start date, so go follow that blog and tag it if you write using any of the topics! -Any form of writing is welcome: drabbles, stories, poems, etc! -You can write more than one story per day! -The word(s) itself doesn’t need to be used, it’s just a general topic to write about! -Don't feel like you need to write every day! -Late stories always welcome! -You do not have to be in the WoW fandom to participate!

Click me to see last year’s stories!

[polluxhale]

Day 30 - Secret @daily-writing-challenge​ Follow-up to THIS story

Pollux exhaled a cloud of smoke and condensation into the frigid air before bringing the cigarette back to his lips.  It had been a long week already, he could feel the chill down to his bones at this point; warming up seemed almost impossible while in Icecrown. The handful of other soldiers with him went about setting up a fire and preparing dinner while Pollux leaned heavily back against his rucksack.  He was both starving and extremely tired, but he wasn’t sure which would win out in the end.  With the way his eyelids drooped, sleep would probably come the moment he finished his cigarette.

He pulled out his comm and flipped through the unread messages, he could always count on Khaeris to leave him something sweet that would make him smile. In response, he took a picture of his face with his eyebrows and eyelashes coated in frost, sending it along with a message that read ‘Is it time for the beach yet?  Missing you...and warmth.’

Another message was from Xylaes; he was obviously agitated at something and had been staying in Pandaria on ‘vacation’ for a while. There were no specifics, Xy was a private man and kept a lot of secrets; Pollux could relate. Xylaes also knew that he would never press for information, just offer a night out drinking at some dive bar. He could go for that right about now.

His final message was from Aerden; it was just a lone photograph of the younger man’s birth certificate.  Pollux smiled to himself when he saw his own name next to ‘father’. It didn’t really feel any different than it had before, but legally there would be a huge change.  Pollux hadn’t had a ‘next of kin’ since his mother, and there was something comforting about knowing that Aerden’s previous ‘father’ could no longer play that card.  That and Aerden would be set for the rest of his life. They had spoken about hosting some sort of gathering to let their friends know, but that would have to wait for another time; as would a response.  Right now, he needed some sleep.

@aerdendios​ @kharrisdawndancer​ @xylaes​

[dicenne]

Day 11 - Passion @daily-writing-challenge​

The missing hour of dark magic that follows the rugged brink of twilight, when the White Lady entices those whose boughs sway and shudder like digits pierced on barbs, and svelte, seductive fiends burnish fruits and fan their wings, alighting on specks of gold to ensnare the desires of swains.

Passion clenches in a swathe of satin, fluttering over the disheveled sheets; seizing your secrets and sighs, seams torn like jagged lesions dripping silky prayers of greed; and the savory torment of flesh hugging flesh evolves into song that leaves you weakened.

You relish darkness on your tongue and the vivid fog of nostalgia, as shade encircles like a plait of ebon to smudge the night sky and flame - imprisoning you as an eager hostage buried within the hush of night.

[taricdarkmorn]

Daily Writing Challenge Day 11 - Curse

The Darkmorn ‘gift’ they had called it. Fuck that. It was a damn curse at times, especially during the first decade of his life.  Taric had spent much of his childhood terrified of this so-called gift; the ability to see, speak with, sometimes touch, and walk among the dead. A spirit-walker. They didn’t exactly make self-help or parenting books on the topic, and with no guidance from anyone that knew what was happening to him, Taric struggled every day.

His mother, Melidoria, tried her best to help, but not really understanding what was happening to her son, she wasn’t able to provide much beyond comfort every now and then. It was something he had to navigate on his own, an impossible task to do well at his young age. Mostly it was ill-timed ‘visits’, and not all of the spirits he came into contact with were benevolent.  Some of them were overly persistent, and once they had discovered his abilities, they often wouldn’t leave him alone until their message was delivered. Looking back on it now, Taric wished that he could have shoved all of them right into the Maw for treating and using a young child in that manner.

The worst were the possessions.  Being that young, he tended to be more open to encounters, and that had been taken advantage of many a time.  He rarely remembered what he had done and his mother never told him unless he asked. He could always see how difficult it was for her, and it was one of the reasons he seldom asked. Then, the incident happened; the reason they left Quel’thalas to start a new life in Booty Bay.  Melidoria never spoke of what took place, but the haunting look in her eyes afterwards never left. The things parents do for their children. Taric never knew the whole story, but curiosity had gotten the better of him when he was older. He could never be for certain, but the archives reflected a string of violent crimes during that time frame that mimicked those of a recently executed convict. He was nine years old at the time.

It was there in Booty Bay that great-grandpa Darkmorn finally found him. He had already been dead for centuries, but the man acted as a guide for their family.  The two never actually spoke of family, but it was obvious in their looks, especially in those peculiar eyes. Taric finally gained control and learned how to keep himself protected and life became much easier for him and his mother after that.

Now?  It was simply a part of who he was, and who he would always be.  Needless to say, the recent events happening in the Shadowlands were more than worrisome.  He couldn’t fix it, he couldn’t do a damn thing about it aside from sit there on the sidelines and watch everything get fucked.  It was an all too familiar feeling. At some point, this would all culminate into one giant shitstorm and he knew he would be right in the middle of it.

@daily-writing-challenge​

[rhysgoodwin]

Day 28 - Cemetery @daily-writing-challenge​

Rhys had never met his mother; she had died the day he was born, choosing his life over her own in her first and final act of selfless love towards him. He didn’t know much about her, although he did know that she was younger than he was now when she got pregnant.  No father was ever mentioned, nor any family.  Even after her death no one came forward to claim her as family or friend. At least she didn’t die alone.

When Rhys was a bit older, the matron of the orphanage brought him to the cemetery where she was buried and he was given sunflowers to lay on her grave. This had become an annual excursion for him, and although the matron stopped joining him after a few years, she was always happy to provide him sunflowers from her garden.

This year was no different, and thankfully there was an abundance of sunflowers to be found in Westfall.  After selecting a few of the largest flowers he could find, he made his way towards the cemetery in Elwynn Forest where she had been buried. It was always a solemn affair even though he had never met her, nor did he even know what she had looked like.  Someone once told him that he had her eyes and her dimples, but there were no photos nor records anywhere to be found.

He slowed his pace as he approached, noting a figure wearing all black and carrying a bouquet of sunflowers with him.  While Rhys couldn’t tell exactly from this distance, he did note that this strange man appeared to be close to where his mother’s grave was located.  Cautiously approaching to get a better look, he stopped walking and watched.  He had always wondered if there was anyone else in the world that had known her, and if they also knew that he existed.

What if….

Rhys’ grip tightened around the stems of the sunflowers as his eyes went wide.  What if this man was family?  What if this was his father?  Although he did look older, maybe he was her father?  Not exactly something you ask a complete stranger in the middle of a cemetery. Instead he maintained a respectable distance and silently debated if he should say anything. He could feel the nerves creeping in and catching in his throat, he knew that if he had tried to speak, everything would have come out in a stuttering jumble of word vomit.  

His hands had now begun to shake from the building anxiety, causing him to drop the sunflowers to the ground.  Quickly, he bent down and gathered them all together, ensuring that none of the petals had been crushed too badly by his own clumsiness.  Surely now the man had to know that he was here.  

Eyes darted back up and...nothing.  No one.  The man was gone, vanished into thin air. Rhys frantically jerked his head around and turned to look in every direction, but no one was there.  Someone had been there, right?  Slowly, he approached the headstone, noting that the fresh bouquet of sunflowers and baby’s-breath had been laid upon her grave. He scratched his head in confusion before reluctantly crouching down to set his own sunflowers with the others.  Maybe it was best not to think about it too hard, it was that time of year, and Rhys was not a big fan of the spooky season.

[tristennedarkmorn]

Day 26 - Trust @daily-writing-challenge​ Co-written by @taricdarkmorn​ for his Day 26 as well!

Red leaned against the railing and stared out towards the moonlit sea; lips parted into an ‘O’ before exhaling a smoke ring that framed the White Lady perfectly.  Booty Bay had always been a crew favorite, there was never a dull moment at The Salty Sailor.  Even now in the dead of night, the dull roar from the tavern carried all the way over to Taric’s small apartment above his shop. 

All pretenses had been set aside between the two, there were more important things happening in the world.  They both knew they were related, and everyone that knew the both of them also knew that they were related. It was obvious by their similar hair alone, but the smile sealed the deal. Why hide it from each other? There was no sense in denying it now, two Darkmorns were better than one in this particular situation anyways.

Not that Red would ever say it aloud, nor would Taric.  He used his mother, Melidoria’s surname, so as far as anyone else may have been concerned, Red was also a Sunflare. It would usually take him a long time to trust another, but there was something about Taric; he immediately seemed dependable and honest.  Plus, they shared a mutual bitterness towards Turiil; Red’s brother and Taric’s father.

“You knew her?  My mom?”

Red turned to face the younger Darkmorn, nodding.  “Yes, while Turiil was courting her. I always thought she was too good for him, but then again I thought that about any woman that he ever dated.”

“What was he like?”  Taric had never met Turiil.  His mother became pregnant with him while out of wedlock, and in those days that was highly frowned upon. A shotgun wedding was out of the question, so Turiil ditched her.  He didn’t know much of the man beyond that, his mother didn’t like to speak of him and he didn’t want to press because he knew it would upset her.

“Shit…” Red grumbled, tiling his head upwards to exhale a cloud of red smoke.  “You may as well be asking what Sargeras is like.” 

This elicited a bark of laughter from Taric.  “Fuck.”  He shook his head, kicking his feet up onto the railing and crossing his legs at the ankle.

“Yeah, be glad that he ghosted your mom.  She dodged a bullet on that one.”  Red stubbed out his cigarette, silently considering what to say about that horrible, monstrous man.  “Umm.  Well, he was a fucking genius.  Runs in the family.” He flashed an arrogant smirk, “He played the noble game extremely well, everyone ‘loved’ him.” Finger quotes went around the word loved.  “He practiced blood magic.”

Both of Taric’s brows raised, his look of surprise clearly suggesting that he had no idea. “That also something that runs in the family?”

“Not for me at least.  Are you…”

“No, no.  I mean, I suppose it’s possible but I’ve never tried. I umm…”  Taric’s gaze drifted off towards the horizon, narrowing his eyes at the distant storm clouds. “I guess what I have is more elemental.”

“Huh…”  Red smiled knowingly, “Like your gr-”

“Great-grandfather.  Mhm, he told me as much.  It’s part of the package deal.” Taric gestured towards his heterochromatic eye.

“Lightning attracted to you too?”

Taric nodded, gesturing to the green fern-like pattern tattooed on his right arm. “From the first time it happened.  Didn’t think it would happen again.  And again...and again.”  He paused, twisting his lips into an overexaggerated frown.  “And again.”  The man had a rough time discovering all of his new powers and ‘quirks’ on his own. Even now he was still figuring it all out, but now he had Red.  It was a comforting feeling, having another living Darkmorn to talk to, and it seemed that Red felt the same.

“Sucks to be you.” Red jested with an impish grin. 

“Well at least I’m not an impassive asshole.” Taric jested right back at him with that same grin. 

They were going to get along well.

[konietzko-sylvoran]

Treading a Measure Through Time

Daily Writing Challenge Day 7 Dance 9/26

It started in Icecrown, our first dance with the Succulent Tarts outside their booth during the tournament of ages. The beats that night calling to us both though it took some playful coaxing from Jiro herself to get me in the mood to come out. A fact that I have thanked her for because I still feel that without her and the delightful Sharpen and Dice as they call him and their coaxing I would not have allowed myself the pleasure. I’ll never forget that night, because it was you my extravagant one who caught my eye first despite how delightful the tarts on display were moving. There was just something about your energy, your free spirit that shone above the rest. 

It continued into the Wonderlight Ball as the Tournament of ages brought out our best moves and we danced from start to finish all through the night along with our purchased dance partner from the auction who was such a delightful fellow and charming on the eyes. Truly a pleasure to come to know Sir. Eldroll however brief our time with him was. Yet the dance we shared just you and I after the Dragon Dance had separated the three of us for a time, that was when I truly let my heart hope that maybe... just maybe... this would not end here with one last dance.

You rose to the challenge that I had made to you in jest, when I asked you to show me your best and offer it to me in a first date of your liking. You took me to see not just any stars but those that hold special meaning to you. To a world I have never seen and shared with me a night that still steals my breath away from every action you took, every gift you gave, the food and the memories are and will always be locked away deep within my most treasured memories. But it was our dance that we finally got to share just you and I as the music played from the music box that you gifted me and it is that song alone that plays within my chest and my mind each time we’re alone just you and I. You made my heart soar that night, and again it was a dance we shared but this time as lovers as we made our intentions known and promised to see what might become of the Starflower and the Aethril as we danced their night away into each others arms.

Last night, we shared yet another dance in the fashion of our very first. Without hesitation we joined the dance floor from the start and almost made it to the finish. I will admit that was in part my own fault for tempting you to come away with me but our time in those hours that passed was a delightful reminder to me of our first. With Sharpen joining us at our side and the way you made us all glitter with your magic I was delightfully reliving and making memories anew all over. I hold these memories tight as I hope in time we might make enough together that I have no more room for the bad. The Howling Owl and their shows had a special place in my heart, though it had been a few years since I last attended one of their performances and it was when I was still wed. I shared many dances with Sivandris, it was he who taught me I had a rhythm at all but as the owner of his own night club I was well aware that if any could teach me this art it was him. He had made friends and connections among them and their patrons I and so I remembered fondly how much I enjoyed their dances as much as their poetry nights and performances. 

Last night was like a blast from the past as I not only got to share a dance with them again though I highly doubt they remember me at all, but I got to share their wonder with you. Together we shared our combined energy and tonight we will doso again. Together we are both remembering how to live, recovering from the darker and more destructive days of our past. We seem to do it one dance at a time, discovering each other and along the way we embrace others who we are learning to accept as friends. Those who would support our journey, our... dance through time, together. 

@daily-writing-challenge​ A SERIOUS heartfelt thank you to all you wonderful people who deserve to be highlighted and thanked for interacting with our gentlemen. I feel I can speak for us both that Talthorn and I have enjoyed your events listed above so much and how much it brings to our own character development. I know what it takes and how much work is put into these events you wonderful rpers put on for us strangers among the public but I felt a heartfelt thank you was deserved and perhaps a sample of what it does for us the roleplayers. We look forward to interacting with so many of you again and again and enjoying what your events bring us in our slices of life, personal character development and as a plus we get to enjoy writing together as a community cross faction and cross server alike. Much love to you all ~ Tags in mention from writing and within the images @saeil-moonblade @akaruta-kaito​ @caelaenne​ @talthorn-sylvoran​ @sharpen-jadescythe​ @saeils-ooc-hub​ @valarin-sunstorm​ @howlingowl-festivals-wra​ @bread-elf​ @succulent-tart @officialtoa​ @dicenne​

[kharrisdawndancer]

Rescue

Kharris looked at the cat who was busy preparing his space next to her. An arching yawn, spreading toes with talons for claws, tail long as it could go. He kneaded the duvet and her leg, his rumbling pur thrumming loud through his chest. She smiled a little and shifted, careful not to upset his position. Her book sat on her lap and her music machine was playing softly (though the melody was something from Boraelus and it begged you to skip to it). The lamps were turned down, but still high enough to read by; Asarel was shifting through his own nighttime rituals and she waited impatiently for a kiss and his hands sliding through her hair. More than just the cat would pur.

Asarel looked at her from across the room, toothbrush in hand and his hair gone mussed by undressing. Her fingers twitched to pull at the strings of his loose pants, and she covered it by pushing the bookmark in place. His eyes twinkled in mischief when he caught her looking and her dimples appeared in reply.

Ten years they had been together.

Longer with the cat.

Her little found family. It was a trite saying, but … Who rescued who?

@daily-writing-challenge​ 

@murmuring-shadows​

day 24

[theconstructsworld]

Daily Writing Challenge Day 8 - Companion This piece was co-written by @chimeracypher

The Construct typically preferred traveling alone. He did everything at his own, slower pace and often took detours, sometimes never even arriving at his originally intended location. It was simply his way, and had always been since he was brought into this world. He never had anywhere he needed to be, allowing only his curiosity to guide him wherever he traversed. He wasn’t certain if this was to be his purpose in this world, but throughout his journeys he had discovered much about himself.

It wasn’t until the creation of Cypher that he had found true companionship.  Not that he wasn’t close to Gaebral, but theirs was a different relationship.  That, and his Master had more important matters to attend to, often leaving The Construct to his own inquisitive whims. Cypher was obedient and loyal, he cared little about the journey nor the destination, he simply enjoyed The Construct’s company.

The two made a peculiar duo.  The Construct had an air of mystery surrounding him, always impeccably dressed and well-groomed, he was positively captivating. There was something about him that enchanted those around him, drawing them in with his icy gaze and holding their attention with his inexplicably innocent disposition. He was a source of temptation and unease rolled into one otherworldly package.

Cypher, on the other hand, was nightmare fuel.  While The Construct found his companion beautiful in every way, most feared the ghoulish man. He was an unusual sight, even for one obviously among the undead. Back ink covered his entire body to make himself appear like a fleshy skeleton, and in places where the skin was the thinnest, it had sloughed away to reveal bone beneath. Despite the minor decomposition, he was now well-preserved in his current state thanks to their Master.  

If his appearance wasn’t horrific enough to offer him a wide berth from passers-by, his personality would almost certainly deter them from further interaction. Cypher had become quite the expert fleshcrafter, and while his experiments were macabre and at times appalling, he was brilliant at what he did. His mind wasn’t completely there, nor had it been even in life, but it served his new purpose well and The Construct found him unquestionably genius.

They often explored new locations together, neither needed sleep nor sustenance so at times they wandered for days on end. The majority left them to their own devices, even in hostile territories. It was easier to ignore or comply rather than deal with whatever the other side of that may look like for those that came face to face with the eccentric strangers. They took or were given everything they could ever want with ease, the world was indeed their oyster

They were more than just friends, they were brothers and would share this kinship for eternity. It didn’t matter if no one else understood or accepted them, they had each other, they had Gaebral, and they had many other ‘siblings’ scattered all over.  And soon enough they would have many more, and that was all that mattered.

@daily-writing-challenge

[daily-writing-challenge]

WE DID IT! 31 DAYS, 31 STORIES!

Congrats to ALL of you that participated in any manner, if you want to finish the challenge even after today, please keep on tagging this tumblr!

It was so wonderful learning about all of your amazing OC’s, we hope that people keep on writing about their babies even though the challenge is over!

Be proud of yourselves, and take a well earned break! <3, @turning-through-the-never & @kharrisdawndancer​

[xylaes]

Day 9 - Cycle @daily-writing-challenge​

Life had become a predictable cycle:  Wake up, pretend everything was okay, go to the gym, go to work, sleep, then rinse and repeat.  There were a few occasional distractions that he enjoyed, but for the most part it was the same day after day.  Prison had forced a similar monotonous routine, and at one point he had made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t fall into those old habits once he was released.  But here he was.

He missed his unpredictable life, full of adventure and excitement.  Mostly, he missed making a difference in the world.  His therapist had suggested getting back into training and sparring more often to work out the built-up aggression. It had helped, but it also made him desperately miss his time in the military. What he wouldn’t give to be able to go out and join the inevitable fight once more. 

Even though he no longer had his magic to aid him, Xylaes had still mastered many fighting styles and would be a formidable opponent against most. Especially against those who were prominently casters. He had been devastated when the overzealous judge ripped away every ounce of his own magic, but the process had been so brutal that it left him completely immune to all magic used against him.  Unfortunately, this included healing spells as well. If he were to be hurt, he would have to rely on healing naturally. What a pain in the ass that had already proven to be.

All he wanted was to feel useful again, and not just as a means for release. He knew he was more than that for a small handful of those close to him, but his past still hung over him like a dark cloud that was impossible to escape. It was difficult to see a way forward. Maybe one of these days he would find his purpose again.

[polluxhale]

Day 25 - Kiss @daily-writing-challenge​

While he didn’t mind that Pyraelia knew about Aerden being his son, those words should have come from Aerden’s mouth.  He was annoyed with Khaeris at the time for breaking that trust; drinking wasn’t an excuse, nor was Pyra’s prying or the fact that she didn’t like lying to her friend.  When someone entrusts you with keeping their secret, you hold onto that until they are ready for others to know.  He hated that a little piece of his trust in her had been splintered that day.

He hid his irritation well enough, soon enough it would be a thing of the past and wouldn’t matter anymore. They’ve weathered much worse. Compared to everything else happening, or about to happen in the world, it was a trivial matter and Pollux didn’t want to spend his final day with her being a complete grouch.  He didn’t know when he would see her again or what was going to happen in the coming months. So instead he shoved all that aside and enjoyed the small amount of time they had together.  He made sure she knew to keep alert and be careful, and to pack a bug-out bag ‘just in case’. Ominous, but needed.

She accompanied him to the portal, kissed him goodbye, and he stepped inside. It was only for a split second, but in that brief time passing through the portal he could have sworn he saw a face: those glowing eyes, the webbed ears… He didn’t need to see anymore to know who that was.  Just his mind playing tricks on him. He blinked and was back in that hellscape known as Icecrown, now with a brand new uneasy feeling settling into the pit of his stomach, on top of that other one that was already there. 

“Gear up, Hale. We’ve got something for ya.”

Not even a second to settle and already given orders, that seemed about right. “Yes, Sir.” He gave a salute and rushed towards his tent to ready himself. 

And so it begins...

@kharrisdawndancer​ @aerdendios​ @pyraelia​

[inistellan]

Daily Writing Challenge Day 21 - Judgement

Without knowing the entire situation, it was difficult for Stellan to offer Dori any sort of good insight into the ‘Xylaes and Fiorenze Fiasco’.  She was worried about their friends, but this was what people in love do:  They quarrel. There’s more emotional involvement, more trust, more loyalty; and with all these positive “more’s”, comes the negatives as well.  More anger, more frustration, more ways to hurt the other person.

Usually they kiss and make up; although when two stubborn, dominant personalities clash, there could be some very destructive fires left in their wake. It reminded Stellan of his relationship with his first wife, Delorrah.  They were both bullheaded, judgmental, and overly confident in their early years, and because of that they shared an extremely passionate relationship, which eventually turned into some very passionate arguments. Yet, there was an undeniable, immeasurable love there and Stellan would have gone to the ends of the world for this woman, no matter how infuriated he was with her at times.

He saw the same traits in both Fiorenze and Xylaes. Even if the two had never admitted their feelings aloud to each other, it was obvious to everyone around them.  He couldn’t help but wonder what had put this sudden wedge between them.  He knew of Xylaes’ past, at least the information that had been released to the general public. It was obvious there was a huge chunk of story missing, but Stellan could jump to his own conclusions:  Xy was a scapegoat. That, he was absolutely certain of.  He wasn’t the type of man that easily opened up, and that would eventually become an issue in any relationship.

He could speculate all he liked, but there was no point and this wasn’t his problem.  He could see how distraught it made Dori, and for her sake he hoped that Fio came around soon. In the meantime, he could at least be a very good distraction.

@daily-writing-challenge​ @arandori​ @fio-renze​ @xylaes​

[taricdarkmorn]

Daily Writing Challenge Day 9 - Poison

Poisons were such thrilling and versatile concoctions to create.  Out of everything that could be made with various plants and venoms, they were among Taric’s absolute favorites. Sure, helping people was always nice, but poisons were dangerous, and dangerous was fun.  Of course not all of them were deadly, many just produced a wide array of unpleasant reactions, others were for keeping vermin away, but it was the lethal sort that the alchemist preferred to create.

He sold plenty of the tried-and-true blends, those were the kinds that he could make in his sleep. Since a lot of his clientele at The Red Rook were pirates, or something akin to pirates, poisons were in high demand. He didn’t question the motives, they tipped well and kept him in business.  

However, it was his passion to experiment outside of the box. These sorts of things demanded live subjects, and thankfully there was no shortage of Bloodsail Buccaneers in the area.  After all the problems they had created for the occupants of Booty Bay, and after what they had done to friends, to himself, and to his mother, he felt zero guilt in using them as his unwitting subjects. Not that Taric was the type to capture and keep a prisoner in his basement, but it was easy enough to spike a shipment of supplies if you had the right connections. All he had to do was wait and watch the magic happen.

His latest experiment would surely be a massive hit among his patrons. It had no particular taste nor scent, and the smallest amount would be fatal whether it was ingested or absorbed into the skin.  Perfect for spiking drinks or food, or even rubbing on the lips of cups or perhaps on doorknobs or weapon handles. Poisoning drinks was so last century, one had to be much sneakier these days.

The best part of this particular poison, which he aptly named the ‘Slow Burn’, was that it would take varied intervals of time to work its magic dependent on the victim’s body composition. For some it would take a couple of days, others a week or longer.  Then, by the time any foul play was suspected, the poison would be untraceable and make it seem as if the victim had died of heart failure.  

He slipped the handful of bottles into a safe, like all of his lethal poisons, these would never be on the shelves for the general public to see or purchase. A perfect, but extremely dangerous poison, at least to the living. He was quite proud of this one.

@daily-writing-challenge​

[tristennedarkmorn]

Day 2 - Invasion @daily-writing-challenge​

Things hadn’t been right for a while. It wasn’t even a feeling anymore, it was an irrefutable fact that something had gone terribly wrong in the Shadowlands, and it had been this way for far too long. It had first come to his attention during the third invasion of the Burning Legion, but it was all too easy to discount the uncertainties from his mind at that time. Maybe something was just wrong with him.  It wasn’t until the burning of Teldrassil that it became impossible to ignore what was obvious, at least to him.  

Souls were not moving on properly.

It was an unsettling thought.  He had never feared death, at times he may have even welcomed it.  Knowing the unknown always made things easier to accept.  But now? Everything was different.  Souls were not reaching their final resting places, and it only seemed to be getting worse. Sylvanas had just filtered thousands of Kaldorei souls somewhere.  Did she know what she was doing?  It all felt a little too convenient for her not to have some idea, but the ‘bigger picture’ had yet to be seen and good things rarely came from collecting souls. Surely he wasn’t the only one who had felt this way.

Eyes drifted down to the communication device that had been sitting in his hand for about a half hour now. He knew there was at least one other person that would understand and possibly have more insight into the situation: Taric, his nephew. It was still a strange thought.  If it wasn’t obvious by their similarly colored hair, the eyes were a dead giveaway as to their relation. The sectoral heterochromia, with eyes golden aside from the blue outside half of his right eye; the same eyes that not he, but his grandfather, possessed.  Taric’s great-grandfather.  Red remembered being told that any children he or his brother had would have those same eyes, and because of it their abilities when it came to the ‘Darkmorn gift’ would be enhanced.

However, the two hadn’t spoken since they first met.  They didn’t even acknowledge their obvious relation.  Red had managed to avoid his Darkmorn heritage for decades now, as far as he was concerned Tristenne Darkmorn died that day when the estate burnt to the ground. So when he came face to face with Taric, all he wanted to do was to get away and pretend it never happened.  

Now, things were different. Now, it was people like them that needed to warn the rest of the living world that something was happening in the Shadowlands, and that something was probably coming. He had warned the crew and closer friends with a ‘shit’s fucked, try not to die right now.’ And he had, in fact, already been in touch with some Horde generals. No doubt they thought his theories crazy at first until others began stepping forward with similar forewarnings. At some point, something would snap.

Before he could overthink it, he typed out a message and pressed send: ‘Do you know where they’re going?’ Taric would know what he meant.

It didn’t take long to receive a message in return: ‘Yes, and I think it’s time we officially meet.’

@taricdarkmorn​