#samiel silversword

[moonunveiled]

of will

The whirring growls and expressive yips that began as soon as he entered his tent brought a smile. The white kit raised up on her back legs and hooked her paws on the edge of the crate that served as her bed. She’d picked up on the routine of Lyrenn’s departures and returns and seemed to celebrate every time her elf showed back up. Crumbling to his bedroll, he scooted until he could lift her from the wooden box filled with blankets and makeshift toys. “Hi to you too sweetpea.” The kit wiggled as best she could, still not quite coordinated enough to preform the acrobatics he was sure she’d get into as she aged. He curled her onto her back and pressed his face into her soft belly. Tiny paws pushed against him, and he could feel her stretching to try and grab a tasty looking elf ear with tiny teeth.  “Hungry?”  Setting her down he reached into his pack and withdrew a tin box, inside the many portions of dried meat from his own rations, set aside for her. He’d been hard pressed to find any milk supplement when she’d been found, and he’d been worried she wouldnt take to the powdered stuff reconstituted in water. Between them there was diet not easily accommodated by war.  “We might be puny but we’ll tough it out hm?” She growled seemingly on cue. Her presence eased the sadness of his tent mate’s death and added levity to otherwise bleak surroundings. But a glance at the empty space his fellow soldier had once filled turned his mind to thoughts of preparation. With Quel’danas on the horizon, perhaps it was time. 

Twisting where he sat, he picked up the journal and pen that had been gifted to him before all this began. Carefully he tore a page from he back and moved it to the front of the book, the first thing someone would see if it were opened. A glance at the fox kit and he began to write.

I, Lyrenn Moonveil, of sound mind, write this as my last request upon the event of my death. I do not name an executor but humbly ask whoever finds this to fulfill these few requests.  As I have no one to receive my belongings they may be distributed as needed, or wanted, if any should want any of it. Aside from this I ask:

My bracers be returned to Tyleril Silversword, as they were a gift. If he is not able to receive them I ask they go to his son, Samiel.  My journal be given to Rythriel Kel’thear.  My fox, Scritches. This is the most important, if nothing else is done please see her somewhere safe. Among my friends, we all march with the army and I do not know who may survive.  I will not make a last request that any care for her forever, as even a fox’s life is a long time for a request. But maybe they can see for her best interests.  Tyleril, as he found her first and has many adopted children.

Dalheim Windchaser, as a dear friend and keeper of promises.

Razail Dusksinger or Ashzouren Summerfall, both lovers of animals with the kindest hearts.

or Caelinda Dewfall, who I know knows foxes and has a soft spot for those in need I have no wishes for my remains.   Shorel’aran

@tyleril-silversword  @ash-summer @razxion @dalheim @caelindadewfall

[brothersemberfell]

Shatter

A writing collaboration between @emberfallen @tyleril-silversword @ocarina-of-what and I. The context of the italicized text begins with this short story HERE

Adrianal arrived to the infirmary with Avada at his side. He looked withdrawn, holding the little baby girl in his arms to his chest with a wide eyed and broken look in his eyes. His red hair was tied back out of habit, his clothes clean out of kindness of his maids. But his blind eyes were blank, hollow, void of emotion or feeling. He took in a shuddering breath, looking warily to Avada now, "I...thank you....for coming with me today...."

Avada had a similarly drawn look to her face. Though her hair shone bright and silky as ever, her black cloak from the previous night hadn't been changed. Exhaustion tugged beneath her eyes, a tribute to her long vigils at her friend's bedside. "There's no place I'd rather be. I'm here for you both, and for your daughter." She pulled her lips upward in a kind smile that didn't touch her eyes, the most reassuring look she could muster. "He will wake. Of that I am confident. He just...needs time. As grass seeds lie dormant for the rain, he needs time."

The paladin seemed to curl in on himself at her words, disappearing inside himself in the emotional agony. But his daughter reached up, a lovely delight of a child with curly brown hair and wide starlit lavender eyes. She tugged Adrianal's hair and gave a crystalline whine, it made him shudder alive, taking an uneasy breath as he touched her small heart-shaped face. "Okay...." he whispered, voice barely audible. He was a man only living for the child in his arms now, only functioning because she needed him still.

Avada’s eyes deepened in sorrow. She took Adrianal's elbow and gently guided him along to his husband's room. The phoenix on her shoulder seemed to sense his handler's stress. He fluffed himself up, gazing between her, Adrianal, and the baby.

The room still smelled of incense, and by the altar it looked as though a certain spellbreaker had kept his promises, a very chocolatey slice of cake sat on a plate uneaten upon it. But in the bed, Felo'thore had not stirred, the man appeared in an endless sleep, comfortable, his arms placed by loved ones as if he slept casually even. The astromancer was inert as a dormant tree with a jarring scar along its bark. The mark seemed not as red or blotchy as it did evenings ago, but there it remained a reminder of the trauma the man had been through.

Cassiopeia clung to Adrianal's neck with a whimper and a senseless babble into his ear. Her soft eyes caught the familiar Tyleril and then flicker with interest to the rivers of endlessly dark hair on Vaelrin being tended nearby, before they disappeared into the room. Seeing Felo'thore's body made him nearly collapse, but slowly, slowly he sat down, Cassiopeia now looking alarmed and confused. "I can't do this...." he whispered to Avada, voice hoarse.

"Yes you can, Adrianal. He needs you. She needs you both." The mage blinked sorrowfully at him and the warmth of her compassion radiated forth in her breast. Avada knelt beside the chair and laid a hand on his wrist, emanating a pleasant warmth in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

Adrianal looked to Avada, then to Tyleril, almost afraid to look forward to his husband again. To see that scar. To see him unmoving, with no show of waking. He knew druids. Knew they could sleep for three days or three centuries. A shuddering noise left him and he closed his hollow eyes against the pain, looking forward to his husband again. Cassiopeia gave a coo, looking around the new room with interest. But now she looked forward, seeing her sleeping father with a crystal cry of joy at seeing her missing father. The near one-year old leaned forward, little arms waving and bouncing on her bottom in excitement at the sight of him.

Adrianal couldn't help it, the soft and bitter words leaving his still raw throat, "This is going to be cruel torture to her...he's not going to wake and she's going to suffer when we leave."

Avada couldn't help but smile, fighting back the mistiness in her eyes. "She's strong. Think about it as helping him. If he is aware, if he can see us here, I'm sure more than anything he'd want to see his daughter." She squeezed his wrist. "Why don't you hold his hand? I can hold Cassi and free up a hand, hmm?"

Tyleril added his assurance. "It's v-very nice you brought Cassiopea to s-see Felo'thore.  I appreciated it when my family brought Samiel to s-see me in the infirmary and it made him happy to be able to see me, even when I was asleep." 

Somewhere, certainly not there, a long ear turned. Wispy white hairs brushed with movement and silver eyes rounded with alertness. Steps. Closer. Sounds. Coos. A cry of joy. Where? Everywhere. For hours the manifestation of his consciousness wandered aimlessly through lush greens and vibrant trees, plucking vines snagging his tiny antlers and searching for a way back. It had been the first he heard such sounds since the door to the living realm closed on him. Only hours. Was it hours? He heard voices.

Adrianal held Cassiopeia tighter, alarm shining in his eyes now at the idea of taking the child from his arms. The only thing anchoring him to this world in his grief and fear, "No," he snapped. Though there was no venom behind his voice, it was hollow and he gave an unsteady sigh. Cassiopeia cooed, babbling, wiggling and scooting her little rear and leaning over to give a sharp tug to Felo'thore's feathery hair, expecting a familiar yelp to come from the man for the pulling of his hair.

"Stop Cassi," Adrianal murmured, taking her little hand, "Don't..." The girl gave a cry, sharp and loud in outrage at being denied. Felo’thore made no yelp or acknowledgement of the tug to his hair. He merely breathed softer than a mouse's whisper, unresponsive.

"M-mayhaps you could let her hold his hand?” Tyleril suggested. “It might help her and Felo'thore. M-maybe a touch?”

Avada merely nodded at Adrian’s sharp denial, nonplussed. "Of course, just a suggestion," she soothed. "She is very dear to you both, that I know. Here, dear," she murmured softly, "Tyleril's right." She gently unfolded Felo's willowy fingers atop the sheet. "Does she hold hands yet? Or would she rather wrap her hand around a finger?" Avada's comforting instincts came in full force with her low voice and easy tone; all suggestions and no offense taken.

A light. Circled open deep in draping vines and swirling mists. The cry hit his ears again. What was that light? It was so far away, but was it? Something made his chest race oddly- but how exactly. he pressed a ghostly hand to his sternum. He wasn't alive...was he?

Adrianal turned his frown to Avada, looking down at that hand and at Cassi who gave a little scoot and wiggle-bounced forward. He gave a sigh, scooting closer on his chair as well so she could reach his hand. She grabbed hard and fast, babbling happily like Felo'thore was surely awake, happy as could be as she whined and babbled louder.

Felo's hand fell limp in Cassiopeia's grasp, his bony fingers loose and with no mind of their own to tickle, or cup her cheek. They did not reach to hold her, to touch the little tip of her snoot or brush affectionately along her ear. They were colder, quieter. Silent.

"There we go, there's a girl," Avada whispered, quieter so as not to stifle Adrianal. Instead she withdrew a phoenix feather from the hem of her robes and placed it at the altar beside the orange bloom she'd left the night before.

Tyleril similarly walked around the offer, prompted by Avada's action.  He leaned over it and set the worn silver band from his wedding neat besides the slice of chocolate-peanut butter cheesecake. Then he resumed looking, looking down at Felo'thore.

Adrianal gave an unsteady breath, watching Cassiopeia babble more and more and... fall silent. Fade. Staring at her father's hand and beginning to tug and pull. Why wasn't he responding? Why wasn't he saying hello to her? Why wasn't he here? She gave a little cry, a crystal wail that lifted into the infirmary. She wiggled closer, putting a hand on that fresh scar, patting his cheek and face in hopes of him waking up. Soft little grunts and baby babbles in distress.

Adrianal shook his head, looking to Avada. "She shouldn't be here," he reiterated. “He’s going to keep sleeping and she’s…she’ll be worse than I.”

Avada caught her lower lip between her teeth and returned Adrianal's despair in her glance. "I... if you think it's best. You're right, I thought it would work, but--but we can't hurt her." She covered her face with her hand, squeezing his wrist again with the other. Perhaps more for her own comfort this time. "I'm sorry, Adrianal."

The sounds were still inaudible, but there. Closer and closer he walked to that odd little....disrupture in the dreamspace. Were the sounds coming from it? But they were in his ears. What were they say---ow..... was that his face? He cupped his cheek. That was a strange feeling.

Tyleril sighed at Cassieopea. "Little b-baby." he looked down at Adrianal. "It was still very nice of you to bring her here. Samiel was happy to see me when I was abed."

Adrianal gave a shuddering noise of pain. He shook his head sharply and kissed the top of Cassiopeia's head, "Kiss Papa goodbye baby. We're going home hmn?" He didn't have room. He couldn't think. Couldn't feel. He was collapsing in on himself as a black hole.

Cassiopeia looked distressed, patting Felo'thore's cheek and feeling Adrianal tug and pull. A helpless whine left her before...she leaned forward. Pressing a soft kiss to her papa's cheek, a whimper leaving her. Adrianal watched the two, waiting, hoping, praying…

The disruption in the mist grew wider, clutching his cheek as ethereal hairs lifted down his neck. It was the same sensation he'd felt when Adrian held him in the wane of the battle-- no. It was different. Or...was it? No! No...he knew this. Colors swirled in that cloudy disruptive space. Familiar. He approached, reaching a hand out only to meet a glass surface once again.

Adrianal could feel tears rising in his eyes, "Come on Cassi...time to go home." He stood rather harshly, the little girl pressing one last kiss to her father's cheek and giving a cry. She began to cry in earnest, sobbing as fat tears slid down her cheeks. She didn’t want to be apart from her father! She wanted to stay! Tears were beginning to slip down Adrianal's cheeks now, "This is why I said no," he said to no one, not entirely directing it at Avada. 

Avada wrung her hands, tears threatening to spill from her eyes now too. "I-I'll stay here with him, Adrianal. I'm sorry. Take care of Cassiopeia...I-I'll be here if he wakes up."

But Cassiopeia began to cry, "Pa…pa!" she wailed, her first word slipping from her lips and breaking Adrianal's heart, "Papaaaa!!"

Tyleril frowned. "Oh, l-little girl. Was that her first word?" It was the first he'd heard the baby speak. He turned to the altar, trying to get in one more prayer before Adrianal left, clasping his hands together.

Silver eyes rounded in another place, another time. His breath stopped- was he breathing? He heard it. Clear as day. Now more than ever, yearning filled his limbs, the energy swelling and pushing mists away. Something instinctual beat from his core, antlers sprawling upward as a great tree. There were no grove wardens to hold him back from lowering his head and charging to that glass barring his consciousness. It didn't matter if his mind or body was still healing-- something overwhelming took over and lit fire in his very essence. Antlers. Glass. His cry. 

Shatter.  

 Felo'thore laid limp and motionless at her pleas. Her little wet kisses to his cheek. But it was only seconds after the second cry of her call of endearment did the dormant shell of a man suck in a harsh and loud breath like he had emerged from a long dive underwater. His body stiffened in the bed as his eyes opened and closed and came to, until his gaze circled dizzily and settled onto her precious little face. He blinked for a moment, mouth quivering in shock, not knowing where he was- disoriented from his last memory being in the crumbling basement of the Dawnspire. But there was one that resoundingly stood in his mind, uttering with a raspy voice at her. 

"Yes? My darling?" Felo’thore smiled weakly before tears flooded his eyes. A sense of having been separated and reunited overwhelmed him as he reached out for the little girl. She who had roused him from the confines of a druid’s sleep.

Adrianal was shattered and healed at the same time. He had been turning away, standing just outside the pulled curtains of Felo'thore's bed. His hollow eyes lingering on Vaelrin for a moment before...he heard that intake of breath. He felt the connection of the minds he shared with Felo'thore click and lock back into place. Cassiopeia was crying, wailing, little face red and streaked with tears and snot from her little nose.

His golden eyes widened, life sparking back in them and he turned. Slowly, almost terrified of the motion. Then he and Cassiopeia wailed together, at once cries of joy and terrible longing. "Felo'thore!" cried Adrianal, tears spilling down his freckled cheeks. 

"Pa. Paaaaaaaaaaaa!!" Cassiopeia wailed, waving her little hands and at once reaching for the man lying in his cot, gurgling and sobbing. To think her An'da had been silly enough to try to take her away. Silly An'da!

Adrianal rocked on his heels, collapse. He was going to collapse. "Take her...oh gods quick someone take her I'm going to drop her..." he gasped, breathing so hard to try to cover the sobs wrenching from his throat. "Felo'thore. Felo'thore."

Avada flew to her feet so fast she bumped the chair behind her backwards with an audible scraping sound. “Felo’thore…?” She clasped her hands near her collarbone beneath her chin. The tears did spill over her eyelids now, painting her face with silvery streaks. But this time, they were for happiness. This time, they were for joy. She recovered quickly and at Adrianal’s resurgence she swept Cassiopeia from his arms and held her upright on Felo’s chest so they could embrace. Far be it from her to separate them now.

Tyleril blinked at the sound of Felo'thore's voice, a grin spreading his lips as he looked back to the altar. He offered a quick prayer of thanks and silently bowed his head before stepping back. "She heard." He remarked to nobody in particular. Then he moved around Adrianal to Felo’s other side. The halo of Light over his head shed a handful of glitter that lazily floated to the ground behind him as he went about.

A deep diaphragm noise of joy rose from Felo'thore, those same dormant hands alive and loving, cradling Cassiopeia to his chest without heed nor care of his marred face, hushing her and holding her longingly and sobbing his collarbone wet with tears. "My sweet star. I heard you, my sweet star. Heavens, what sorcery you weave..." After moments of rocking her and brushing her curls with his fingers in blessed reunion, he looked to Adrianal, Avada, and Tyleril with surprise and delight, his smile fading to faint concern with Adrianal, reaching a hand out. "Darling come here. Come..."

Adrianal gave a choked noise, sobbing softly as he kneeled down, arms wrapping around Felo'thore and his daughter as gently as he can. "I...Felo'thore...starshine... MY Starshine," he gasped softly. He stroked Felo'thore's face and hair, murmuring gently and caught somewhere between joy and that grief. "I thought you'd never wake up...Felo'thore..." his hand caressed Felo'thore's face, eyes glued to his husband. Cassiopeia was crying, sobbing, clinging to Felo'thore and now trying to pepper his face in smooches while saying "Papa" to him over and over. Convinced it would keep him alive and awake.

Tyleril leaned over Felo'thore, his halo casting shadows as he quietly began checking the health of the man who’d so suddenly risen from a comatose sleep with critical fel green eyes.

Avada stepped away and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, stifling the little laughing sobs that still whispered from her. "Time and something to stimulate a gateway. Oh, heavens," she murmured to herself, face shining with the brightest smile she'd mustered in days.

Felo’thore chuckled past tears, his chest tight and warm from the affection that had filled him. He brushed tears from Adrian's cheek with his thumb, holding his daughter and his husband as if he dared the world to ever take them away. "I'm here, sunshine. I'm here now." He took the moment to look around, smiling joyfully at Avada and the altar behind her. "Is that...cake? How....long exactly have I been here? I remember.... that shivarra." He turned back to Adrianal and blinked. "...And not much else." He looked over to Cassi, smooching and babbling his name. 

"Papa is right here, my darling."

[pyrosophist]

Gifts and Letters

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

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

---

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

My friend,

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

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

@shampoocommercialelves

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

Westel,

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

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

@westelfirewing

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

Swiftstrike,

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

@thedragonisaprincess

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

Highdawn,

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

@thanidiel

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

Caelinda,

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

@superspicedinosaur

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

Silversword,

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

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

@tyleril-silversword

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

Vaelan,

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

@greatmaulsoffire

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

Ashcaster,

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

@veleth95

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

Cloudseye,

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

@spiral-seeker

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

Brother,

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

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

@turalyon

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

Thradia,

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

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

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

Stay the course.

@ladyliadrin

[razxion]

Razail Dusksinger

Appearance -

Gender: Male Race: Sin’dorei Height: 5’7” Eye Color: Emerald Hair Color: Honey Blonde

The Facts -

Birthday: October 8th (Given, he can’t remember actual) Occupation: Pathfinder of the Sunguard, Duskward rank; Gemcutter; Leatherworker Sexual identification: Bisexual?  (He’s still figuring things out.) Romantic identification: Bi/Poly? (Again, he’s still figuring things out.) Alignment: Neutral Good Criminal History: Trespassing, Justifiable Homicide (Never caught/recorded); Accused of Theft by a merchant but didn’t actually do it. Relationship Status: Dating Symmathan Brightarrow

Favorites –

Favorite food: Strawberries, Apples, fruits and vegetables mainly Favorite drink: Sweet Juices Favorite artist: Drawing: Samiel  Writing: Symmathan Favorite scents: Outdoors/wooded areas, Fruits, Cooking Food Favorite person: Samiel Silversword  (He likes lots of people a lot, only wrote down Sam since he falls asleep next to or hugging him lots.)

Randoms –

Ten facts about your muse:

⚫  He was the only child his parents were able to conceive and to be born alive.

⚫  After his parents were killed, and his lips and cheeks were ripped apart, Razail couldn’t talk or eat right for quite some time.  Due to this, the first time he tried to buy some food on his own he was accused of stealing, threatened with the removal of his hands, and couldn’t defend himself in any form.  This was very traumatic for him, and is the biggest reason why he barely eats and doesn’t take food unless it’s almost put right into his hand.

⚫  Razail should have grown taller, his father was well over 6’, but due to his extremely poor nutrition he only grew to 5’7”.  He has consistent joint pain that he’s unaware of, along with his body having troubles gaining weight.

⚫ Razail’s mother and father were both magic users and very good at it.  With his parents death, he hasn’t been able to learn, but he has the potential to.  He did manage to learn how to use the shadows, around him to hide himself and others closeby, just by watching the nasty rogue he was following.

⚫ Razail has very good hand-eye co-ordination, and is somewhat ambidextrous.  Just don’t worry too much about his co-ordination with his feet. (He tried to dance and was..passable, but he can run across water.)

⚫ Razail absolutely loves animals and nature.  Before he can remember, he had a bad incident with a mechanical animal that has made him weary and dislike them, but doesn’t fully know why.

⚫ Razail’s mother was a frost mage with a love of all things that could sparkle and shine.  This lead to his love of stars and gems, and why he’ll call the cut gems he makes his own ‘stars’.

⚫ While growing up mostly alone his only companion and friend was his panther, Phoebe, and whatever other animals would come nearby.  Cats tended to venture close, and this lead to Razail learning to purr from the cats, and roar from Phoebe.  Someone had said to him ‘you’re a stray cat that wants to be loved.’

⚫ Razail has a lot of scars, most are covered up all the time (mask and armor).  Most of those on his body are from before he joined, and from the rogue he followed.

⚫ Razail is curious about a lot of things, but is also shy and scared of people due to his experiences so far in life.  He’s grown some since he first stepped out into the sun to experience something different, and joined the Sunguard.

Five Things -

Things they like:

- Animals - Nature - Anything that reminds him of his parents (stars for mother, a ring from his father, and a picture of both) - Learning new things - Hugs

Things they dislike:

- Lying/Liars/Being Lied To - Children being hurt/killed and not being able to do something about it - Gnomes (the one that killed his parents was a gnome) - Not being able to move whenever he wants (that broken leg sucked for him) - Being forced to eat

Good habits:

- Polite (or at least he tries to be) - Patient - Friendly - Brave - Versatile

Bad Habits:

- Reckless with personal safety when it can benefit others being safe - Forgets/refuses to eat - Overthinking - Impulsive - Eats from the trash when no one’s looking to avoid being called a thief

Personalities they gravitate toward:

- Empathic - Strong - Patient - Honest - Friendly

Personality types they avoid:

- Aggressive/Mean - Patronizing - Gossipy - Social Elites - People that would hurt animals for fun

Fears:

- Angering those he loves (Angry Tyleril he is totally afraid of seeing) - Being left alone/behind - The rogue he followed (whom he killed with some help) - Being lied to by those he loves - Finding out he’s no longer wanted around

tagged by: @brothersemberfell @shampoocommercialelves

thanks @tyleril-silversword for the help

[razxion]

Alexander: Re-evaluation

Another night in the apartment, Samiel was asleep and Alexander lies awake in the empty bed.  There was no Tyleril near him, nor his twin Rai'thas to be found either.  He has grown accustom to them both being close during the night while they would sleep.  A habit forming to rest this body in bed with them, and now he stares at the empty ceiling for hours with only his thoughts, and no distractions from them.

As the moon’s light pushes its way across the sheets, the death knight draws in an unnecessary breath, only to use it to sigh.  It could only have been an hour, but felt like many more.  Recalling what Tyleril shown him, Alexander activates the starry sky to dance across the ceiling, giving him enough of a distraction to relax and let time pass.

Though as the sky begins to lighten, the starry ceiling’s entrancement of Alexander no longer holds, and the death knight rolls out of bed.  Gesturing to the ceiling, ending the magical dance it provided, he stands.  Hair falls across his face, though it looks to be whiter than it was days ago.  Recalling others mentioning his hair lightening, and red in his eyes, he decides to go see it for himself.

An unenchanted mirror could never really lie, and as Alexander gazes upon his reflection he did indeed notice the changes the others were mentioning.  His hair was once a soft blue, now slowly turning a snow white; his frosty blue eyes marbling with a blood red.  He starts to wonder, to question, to analyze his situation and what has lead up to this change.

Rai’thas and I joined the Sunguard, no changes noticeable then. We assisted the Sunspear with a bandit repressed town. Found a child thieving from Sunguard supplies. Lost odd physical challenges issued by that muscle crazed man. Lost all duels. Using blood magic more frequently.

That was it.  Alexander’s abilities from the time he spent with the San’layn are now put to use quite frequently, even in his day-to-day life.  He chuckles, still the echo ever present, turning around to get some clothes on for the day.

Perhaps I should think more on what Tyleril has mentioned, focusing on healing others, as he says I have the patience for it.

A sudden urge pulls at him, a desire, a need.  Running his tongue along the bottom of his teeth, he notices a few seem to be sharper.  Alexander must feed, but his twin, who always allows him to, was nowhere near.  Quickening his steps from the bedroom and through the hall, not intending to avoid Samiel, but focusing on his current need that will require him to leave the apartment to satisfy.

As Alexander step down the hall a loud ‘clunk’ sounds as something meets the table. A very pregnant Windsong setting a decently sized jar of a red liquid onto the kitchen table, raising a brow as Alexander comes into view.

The sound breaks the death knight's focus on leaving, drawing his attention towards the jar, and Windsong.  Licking his lips as subtly as he can before he speaks.  “Hello, Windsong.  I hope you are doing well.  I was just about to leave.”  Alexander looks around, trying to find Samiel, and noticing the boy was sitting on the balcony, tinkering with arcane dust and rocks, he’s satisfied.

@tyleril-silversword wrote a little with Tyleril!  Death knight changing up due to the vices/virtues stuff and recent events. :D