#strixena draconis

[smoke-and-stilettos]

Dark Holiday

{{ this post takes place prior to to my beloveds... }}

Something Aurelia always loved about Quel’Danas was the mild weather, despite the changing if the seasons.  Unfortunately, she;d been unable to enjoy the sunshine, though she’d spent the better part of a week exposed to it.  Even now, as she sat on the balcony of her room, overlooking the town, it was tainted. The news of Sordasa Academy’s complete dissolved weighed heavily on her. More than half a year of work had gone into bringing the Academy up to par, and with work yet to be done, she had thought it would be in capable hands following her demotion. Of course, she was wrong.

And on top of that, the now constant violet tint in her eyes was a growing concern.

The com device sat silent in her hands, even as the whispers if the void chatted away to her.  They’d gotten louder since her arrival in Quel’Danas. She assumed it had something to do with her lose proximity to the Sunwell. The sorceress had kept her distance, remembering what had occurred when Alleria Windrunner herself had visited the font. Aurelia did not wish to be the reason for its complete corruption.

The tendril sprouting from the back of her neck, however, were another matter entirely.

She’d noticed them the night Riizen had left. Upon their discovery, the whispers had suggested she keep them a secret. She’d done so, fashioning her stone-colored tresses around them, covering them completely.  She knew she should tell someone, but with Riizen’s recent purification, Aurelia didn’t wish to rain anymore darkness upon her family. Of course, it was only a matter of time before Joskinar found out about them, either through his own discovery , or Umbral filling him in.  She wasn’t completely sure how his connection worked with Joskinar, only that they each felt what the other did,  She didn’t know if Umbral could keep secrets from Joskinar. And if he could, would he?  Something as potentially dangerous as this could make or break Aurelia.  The Void entity inside Joskinar shared an emotional connection to him, and the byproduct of that was Umbral actually loving her.  It wasn’t likely the secret would stay a secret for long.

Honestly, what Aurelia needed was something to focus on. Something she loved, once.

Hurried, she rushed back into the bedroom, digging out parchment and a pen from the desk.  It flew across the paper as she wrote, and was sealed and brought down to the innkeeper immediately to be mailed.

Once she was safely in her room, she sat down on the bed. A choice had been made, and with it, an odd sense of relief.

Dear Lady Draconis...

{{ mentions: @zarabloodstar, @riizendraconis, @joskinar, @strixena }}

[sir-camelot]

Then perish.

Something I did for for fun of my GM’s character. @strixena

Patreon || Commission Status || Ko-Fi

[absinthe-and-sin]

💭💭💭💭

💭 - “I hope she knows what the hell she’s doing.”

💭 - “She’s even more intimidating now than she was before…”

💭 - “Does she feel like she made the right choice, trusting me? Putting resources into training me? I won’t let her down.”

💭 - “I’m SO GLAD she’s back!”

[theexplodingdragon]

Dear Strixena Draconis; Duchess of Easterly,

My name is Mortificer Mhòrdha; my title: Marquis; my March: Witchmount; my lands: Arathi.

I am told that you are cunning, and that you are ruthless; I find these to be admirable qualities, rather than the so-oft-praised “kindness” and “virtue”. Ours is a ruthless world, and one must be ruthless to have any hope of surviving it.

The winds of war howl on the horizon. In fallen Lordaeron, the Witch-Queen schemes the downfall of our kin. The legion has been defeated, for now, but Azeroth bleeds and weeps in her dying thrashing.

My cousin has wounded my March in his greed, and though he has been hanged for his crimes (of which there are many, and vile) it falls on me to ensure that Witchmount is restored to the power and influence it held on the eve of my birth eighty seven years ago.

I am told that you protect you and yours, that to strike at the lowest of your banner is to strike at you. Such loyalty is something I hold in high regard. Such loyalty is something that I desire in my allies.

It is my belief that Easterly and Witchmount can offer a great deal to each other. Our shrouded forests cultivate a staggering number of rare herbs, and our oaken lumber is well-suited to producing more ships for your armada. It is my understanding that these are goods difficult to come by in your Duchy.

On the matter of more exotic wares, I am proud to disclose that my March has invested in the process of taming and subjugating the local raptor population. Our first stock for export is not immediately available, but I invite you to visit Witchmount to discuss the implications they could hold for your armies.

It is my wish that this message finds you in hale and hearty health, and that you take my offer of alliance under consideration. We could be much stronger standing together than the sum of our separate parts.

Sincere regards,

Mortificer Mhòrdha; Marquis of Witchmount

(@strixena )

[pettyelves]

On To The Next Shit Show

The Estate was won. It was one small victory in a battle that proved as though it would be ever expanding into territory Eilithe had no idea about. The Void. The Light. They were things that escaped her. 

Never was there a time where Eilithe felt a particular connection to Elune. It. Her. Whatever it was proved to be powerful in the hands of those whose faith was strong. A source of magic, the sort that Eilithe could not grasp her fingers around. She needed to touch it. She needed to see it. She found that in the Harbinger. 

It seemed as though the faithless flocked to Eilithe- she could count on one hand those that bore the Light in their arsenal, and those who seemed to have knowledge of its opposite? None. 

It left her with Strixena Draconis. A woman she had underestimated and misread in such a way that left an embarrassing mark on her ego. Nobility infuriated her- perhaps because the constant referral of ‘Lady’ this and ‘Lady’ that knocked her down a peg. Or maybe, it was that she simply could not be herself. She had to put on a face, present in a certain matter. Each time Eilithe had brushed with the nobility of Stormwind it had been the same thing. She was an elf, and they stared down their noses for it.

It had been a mistake to presume that of Draconis- but repairing that, if she could even hope to, would take time. 

And so, she began with a letter-- one as honest as she could get to be delivered with the Lady’s full title scrawled in calligraphy across the front. 

Lady Strixena Draconis, 

Let me begin by giving my thanks for what you did for No’Vindere. She seems..better?At least for the moment. Now, with that said- let me be perfectly honest in saying I have not a single idea how things like this work. Were the darkness within her, something that had once lived as an elf, or human and so on- then I might find myself better suited. However, the contrary has been made abundantly clear. So, it is with that I must confess to you-- No’Vindere’s condition is far outside of my skills. 

When you left their home you said to give you a week. I do not know what you’re planning. I do not know what to give you to repay what you’ve already done, much less for something you would do further. 

I do not know you-- nor what your goals, your wishes, your dreams are and I would not venture to pry them out of you. Furthermore, the complexity of No’Vindere’s condition is far beyond what I originally thought, and without your help I would not have known. With that said, I owe you a debt and I intend to give you what is in my power to give if you will allow it. I do not write blank checks, Lady Draconis-- but this is as close as I will come to that. 

Anything you do to help her, I will do everything in my power to see you are given something for your troubles. 

Included in this envelope is a marked paper, which will allow you passage back into Dead Sun. Kurel An’Diel requested such arrangements be made. 

My Thanks and Best Wishes,

Eilithe Duskbringer

Arbiter of Dead Sun

Enclosed was a thick and folded piece of parchment, on it a sigil which would allow safe passage into Dead Sun. 

@strixena

[riizev2]

The Living Timeline of Riize Wintersong

RPing is hard. Keeping track of nearly three years of continuity is harder. Here is my organized timeline of Riize’s life for those interested in RPing her now that I’ve returned. I recognize that this is based primarily on my own recollection of plot events, so I have chosen to tag in as many blogs as possible for those interested in hearing the other side of these stories.

However, times change. A lot has happened in two years and my recollection is far from perfect or impartial. In that vein, this is going to be considered a living document. It may change as new information is brought to my attention. Furthermore, some of the people mentioned here are not on good terms with each other (or with me lmao), so take some of this with a grain of salt. This might end up being more for me than for you.

That leads to what’s in brackets. Certain story beats that happened previous have been decided to be written out of continuity for a variety of reasons. Out of respect to the wishes of those involved, certain characters have been omitted even though they did have canon interactions with Riize previously. If I feel that the scene in question is still required to understand Riize’s current characterization, I will leave them in with brackets. The names and occupations of those involved will be changed for the sake of obscuring the identities of those involved and to open up future revisits to old topics now that I have more control over certain elements of Riize’s past. 

I’m organizing it by patch because using the IRL timeline might awaken Blizzard’s lore department. Bold information was originally supposed to be proper nouns and important events but it got a little bit away from me. Just fucking kidding I deleted one word and half the hyperlinks broke and all the bolding disappeared so nothing is bold now. Also Tumblr ate this post twice so I’m kind of trying to get it up before it happens a third time. If edits need to be made, I will write a reblog with the changes as they happen (unless it is basic grammar or more comprehensive formatting)

With that said, let us begin.

Backstory:

Riize Wintersong was born in Darkshore to a priestess and a druid. Her childhood was largely uneventful, training under her mother as a Priestess of Elune while spending her spare time exploring the coastline. As she grew older, she decided that her true love was the sea and became a sailor. Travelling around Western Kalimdor, she became a rotating member of various trade ships that provided food and supplies to other kaldorei settlements on the continent.

In the lead up to the Third War, Riize joined the Alliance Navy and sailed much of Azeroth. During this period she learned much about dwarven and gnomish engineering and worked to maintain the components of ships. While only obtaining the title of Seamen, these years kindled her love for tinkering.

Riize left the military after fulfilling her tour of duty in Northrend. Like many she did experience whispers of the the Old God Yogg-Saron, but did not yet begin her study of the Void until far later. During her time as a civilian she fished and sailed for recreation purposes. After the Cataclysm she returned to the sea as a hired hand on any vessel that would take her. This began her integration into less savory groups.

Riize’s status as a sailor-for-hire was the status quo leading into her playable first appearance in...

Patch 7.3

At this time, Riize is a member of the pirate gang the Dreadwing Vultures. Operating under the professional alias of ‘Nine,’ she sailed with the group for fun and profit. While occasionally brushing against the machinations of Unit Eight, her time with the group was generally enjoyable. Around this time is her first meetings with Corine Blythe, Saelkath Alzarah (@saelkath-alzarah) , and Kat Hawke (@kat-hawke).

[During this period Riize would begin dating one of her fellow Vultures. The two of them would spend long nights getting high and listening to vinyl records. While their life trajectories eventually moved in two different directions, she still values their time spent together greatly.]

Riize begins to make ties with the independent intelligence agency The Silent and a few of its high ranking members through their establishment at the Golden Keg. She begins to take up the place of one of their previous agents as an informant within the Dreadwing Vultures. This position does not last long, as the Vultures soon move to Ironforge and afterwards shutter completely.

Shortly after this event, Riize begins to study under Saelkath in the ways of the Void. Reaching into the darkness, Riize’s exploration is noticed by beings lurking in the Void and mentally affected irreparably. While initially curious, she finds herself drawn to understanding the Void and the denizens within with more fervor. She convinces Saelkath to reveal to her the rituals of the Cult of C’Thun and soon becomes a member herself.

[However, shortly after reemerging with her new focus on the Void, Riize is captured and held captive by a masked Light zealot in the Hinterlands. Detained and tortured for over two weeks, Riize was eventually able to escape into the woods. While too weak to fight, she swore revenge on the one who imprisoned her.]

Patch 7.3.5

While examining a job board in Stormwind Riize comes across a flier directing people towards Easterly. After communicating with The Silent, Riize chooses to enter the newly reforming House Draconis on an information-gathering mission. She meets the House’s heir, Strixena Draconis, and begins to establish a friendship with her. She completes her induction after kidnapping a priest of the Light out of Stormwind on Strixena’s behalf. She is initiated into the House shortly after. While initially believing she escaped Stormwind without notice, Riize ends up crossing the Warden Elyza Morrowbranch (@morrowbranch) who was more than capable of overpowering the newly minted Lady’s Hand. Beating aside, Riize chooses House Draconis over her previous bonds and affirms her loyalty to Strixena.

Riize’s involvement with House Draconis does not go unnoticed by those who knew her and soon she finds herself interrogated by Director Hawke. Remaining affable post-kidnapping, the two enter a tense truce. Working with Saelkath and her previous student Iceilla Nightbane (@iceillanightbane​), Riize partakes in off-the-record assistance on a small handful of missions on Unit Eight’s log.

During a heated argument between the two of them, Riize slices Strixena’s face and leaves her permanently scarred. Agreeing that her delving into the Void is making her lose control of herself, Riize is isolated within the barren White Room deep under Easterly’s catacombs. She is kept in solitary confinement for six weeks, with her only outside contact to the world being twice daily visits from Strixena to bring her food. While originally planned as an act of love, Riize begins to go mad. Her connection to the Void deepens in secret. When she is released she rekindles her vow of loyalty to Strixena and is rechristened as Riizen Draconis, the Phoenix of Easterly.

While working as a founding member of House Draconis’s intelligence branch, the Lady’s Hand, Riize meets the Arbiter of Dead Sun Harbor Eilithe Duskbringer (@eilitheduskbringer). While working together during the opening of the House’s gunsmithing store in Stormwind (Dragon’s Breath Smithing) the two kaldorei would develop a lasting friendship. Fulfilling her duties to the House, Riize recruits Joskinar Soulshread (@joskinar) into the Lady’s Hand. Near that time she also meets Aurelia Voidsong (@smoke-and-stilettos), Headmistress of Sordasa Academy. The Academy would act as the research division of the House, providing a vast bevy of knowledge to those who would seek it. Riize, Jos, and Aurelia would soon form a polyamorous relationship.

Patch 8.0

Strixena and other key members of House Draconis are jailed by a mysterious figure. Riize is not targeted, though the time spent away from Strixena eats at her. She tries her best to maintain the organization in her stead but is slowly pushed further and further out of power by inter-House politics. She settles into running the House’s business ventures while awaiting her sister’s return.

During a Unit Eight expedition to Ahn’Qiraj with Saelkath and a mage in SI:7’s employ, Riize witnesses the full power of her teacher’s magic and is horrified. Barely able to push through the ritualist’s powerful psychic influence, Riize helps destroy the artifact they came to collect to free Saelkath from its hold. While the trio are able to return to Unit Eight’s headquarters safely, Saelkath’s mind is shattered and she loses all memory of Riize. Heartbroken, she leaves her teacher in the medbay and disappears into the night. Riize never sees her beloved teacher again.

Eventually Strixena reemerges before the House as a Death Knight, a specter of vengeance unleashed upon the world. House Draconis begins to act again, though with far less of Riize’s input. Not long after, Dragon’s Breath Smithing is shuttered. The intelligence branch that Riize helped Strixena found is scrapped as well, resulting in her joining Aurelia in Sordasa Academy.

Things grew more dire over the coming months. War loomed on the horizon and the temperament of her sister grew even more volatile. The final straw came in the one-two punch of the closing of Sordasa Academy and the ultimatum that re-entering the House’s inner circle would require letting go of her attachment to her partners. Riize, Aurelia, and Joskinar would all leave Easterly for the old Voidsong Manor in the dead of night. She never saw her sister again.

Patch 8.1

The War of the Thorns escalated further, far from Riize’s gaze. The Void’s hold on her grew ever deeper until the Burning of Teldrassil snapped her from her stupor. Journeying to Darkshore, Riize learned that her parents had evacuated to the presumably untouchable kaldorei capital only to be lost in the fire. Riize had not seen her family in decades and never got to say goodbye.

Patches 8.1.5 through 8.2.5

AKA the period I wasn’t playing WoW

Riize, Joskinar, and Aurelia married in private far from the world. The trio would spend the following year together in seclusion, enjoying relative peace together far from the world and the war raging around them. While it was peace at the cost of ignorance, it was a much needed reprieve from the pain that had preceded.

Patch 8.3 through Past and Present

The rise of N’Zoth and the emergence of Ny’alotha took an unseen toll upon the Void-Blessed Night Elf. Visions began to infiltrate her mind showing her memories of lives unlived and roads not taken. In time it became impossible to distinguish the visions from reality. The usually energetic kaldorei would soon spend hours of the day bedridden, barely able to navigate through the illusions that danced before her eyes.

Now

Riize re-enters a world that is unfamiliar during a time of uneasy peace. The public has turned its hatred upon the Void-aligned and allies have become few and far between. Familiar faces have disappeared, replaced by an endless stream of vitriol. Still, Riize searches for answers and closure to a life that has escaped her...

[geraldcreed]

In Review

(Cause after almost 2 years both of us need it.)

After nearly half a decade working with worgen packs in an attempt to introduce more feral beings into the whole of society, it seemed to Gerald that his job was nearly at an end. With this knowledge he went out in search of another vocation. Thus he was hired into the Waterstreet Detective Agency for a brief period of time. He made a small file for himself before a schism broke the company and sent Gerald back out into the street. 

Just a couple weeks later, a woman by the name of Vinarei approached Gerald, finding his file in the abandoned Waterstreet building. She hired him on as an artifact hunter. Gerald worked closely with Vinarei, her lover Kota, and a young man by the name of Atticus. Through their work they learned that they were cousins, on Gerald’s mother’s side, of whom he knew little about. Atticus, through a stroke of fate, was of the family as well. When the artifact business ran dry, they still kept in close contact. 

Gerald got a letter from his dear cousins urging him to come work with them under another banner: House Draconis. Run by the firm and mysterious Strixena Draconis and her close family, the organization was otherwise an enigma. Gerald, having bitter memories of nobles, but a love of family, reluctantly followed suit. Though family troubles and noble drama, he managed to make a name for himself among the Draconis family. Though this high would not last and would soon drop to harrowing lows.

Vinarei had messed with magics beyond her discipline. She, through outside help, managed to fuse her soul with another: Verlai. A more cold and distant person than Gerald’s cousin. For a time, both souls inhabited the same body, but suddenly, Verlai claimed that Vinarei’s soul had passed on, and that only she remained. A funeral was arranged, and no more was said. Gerald however, did not buy it.

Finding a thief in his home, he would turn to his own research to get to the bottom of Verlai’s plot. He took his would-be robber into a dangerous and forbidden section of Easterly’s woodland, known to be perfectly balanced in the arcane. Gerald released the soul of his old mentor into his captor’s body and trapped them in the forest to examine what would happen if one soul overpowers another. 

His experiment would start a doom for all of Easterly. Gerald would move his experiment to Drustvar, but the damage was already done. The balance of the forest was off, and a plague erupted from it, spreading far and wide. The plague would turn all it touched into mindless husks, and coordinating with this plague, an old enemy of House Draconis would rise and take everything from them. Syler Dominicus, along with an army of undead, swept through Easterly, killing all but a few survivors. Gerald’s grief was all encompassing. 

The survivors shipwrecked on an island that they later named Viridia and Gerald set up a portal network with Stormwind and the outskirts of Easterly. Even with all the turmoil his experiment was a success. One soul cannot force another out of the body, only pack it so tightly away that it can be easily put into a soulstone. A soulstone which Atticus had unwittingly received from Verlai. 

With this last piece, Gerald was ready to bring his cousin back, but by her wishes, Gerald instead released her spirit to a hopeful rest. As for his mentor, he gave her a new body and released her, hoping she would find a new life free of captivity. He tried to find Verlai, to accuse her of taking over Vinarei’s body, but when he caught up to her, she already seemed to be dead. With no other loose strings, Gerald escaped Viridia in the dead of night with his familiar, Gunther, to try and clear his conscience of the horrors he had wrought to House Draconis and his own family. He only hoped to have the chance to do so.

It has been nearly two years since then.

[romanticallyterrible]

I’m posting this at great personal risk.

mentions: @housedraconis, @musings-ofa-madman, @riizendraconis, @smoke-and-stilettos, @celestare, @zarabloodstar, @strixena, @saidelia-draconis, @joskinar, @dralavashsilverguard, @arahlayna-wra, @geraldcreed

I know I missed people. I’ll getchu later.

[scout-cece]

Clandestine Communicade

  A message was passed on by the tattooed hand of a hooded courier, the transaction subtle before they disappeared. The envelope was held closed by an onyx seal bearing a draconic impression and, when opened, the scent of fire and smoke became crystal clear. 

Miss Rigsby, Please pardon the manner of which I am reaching out to you. During my time away, my communication device broke and I have yet to secure a new one, so I must rely on this method for the time being. I know not what you are presently doing at this point in time or if you are invested in any business affairs. However, I do have a task for you and given the conversation we had last, I think you may enjoy it. If you are interested, seek me out in Boralus Harbor. I will be there, down by the docks. Stay safe, Dark Lady Strixena Draconis

 Hazel orbs rose to the sky, the Kul Tiras night filled with stars but dawn was within reach, dimming some of those sparkling points of light and at the horizon a pale line began to grow. One hand holding still to the missive, her other burred digits into soft gray fur as she soothed the Frostwolf by her side when his whimper broke through the sound of the morning beginning at Virgil Hill, echoed down at Old Drust Road. 

  Cece had been following the work along Tiragarde Sound, it was a rough place, each new town had its own rules and way of doing things, strangers were never welcome but the work never ran out. There was always someone to double cross somehow, a bounty on heads on warring factions or just interesting things to overheard in taverns as worn sailors got drunk. So far Kul Tiras was living up to her expectations and not at all in a disappointing way. With the summons however, by the Lady Draconis herself it seemed the perfect time to head back to Boralus and maybe find a little more... direction. 

  She gave the courier a nod and replied softly. “Inform the Lady I’ll be back in the Port by evenin’. Perhaps in time for dinner...” Cece smirked to herself thoughtfully and with a soft indicating whistle she headed east, Baby in tow as she traveled the winding road to Bridgeport and soon to the south gate of Boralus. She wasn’t sure it was honest work but it would be more focused work. A goal would likely be set and she couldn’t deny her interest in doing a bit more than wandering the countryside.

 @strixena

[smoke-and-stilettos]

Your character is in a position where they may never see their loved ones again. If they write letters, to whom are they addressed and what do they say? If not, what do they do?

Zara,

I know I told you I’d never leave you again, but here I am, breaking another promise. I can’t tell you what’s happening, and I am so sorry, but at least this time I’m letting you know that our paths may never cross again. My fate draws near, and I can’t be near you when that happens. But don’t fear for me, sister. I’ll be fine.

I have a favor to ask though; my last one. Can you deliver some messages for me?

Find Velest Emberlight, in Silvermoon. Tell her that I am sorry for not saying goodbye upon my banishment. Tell her she meant so much to me, she was a rock when I needed it most. Tell her she and Farwyn belong together, even if she refuses to do anything about it.

To Aeondra, tell her the time has come to make good on our arrangement. She’ll know where to find me. Thank her as well, because I may be too far gone by the time she arrives to do it myself. Ask her to finish my work as well, if she can.

To Riizen, tell her to take care of herself, and work with Aeondra. She’ll know what that means. Remind her that she is important to all of us.

To Lady Draconis, tell her I apologize for not finishing my work. Tell her she should appoint Aeondra in my stead.

Lastly, sister, take care of yourself as well, and don’t succumb to the whispers. You are far stronger than I gave you credit for.

I love you always.

{{ mentions: @zarabloodstar, @velestemberlight, @kendoranel, @celestare, @riizendraconis, @strixena. Tagging @housedraconis }}

[olliehaldstan]

Olyviane’s Archetypes

Take this quiz here!

36% Advocate

The Advocate is the one everyone wants on their side. In the name of justice, they are not afraid to challenge authority or speak up for others.

35% Caregiver

Friendly, sincere, and compassionate, the Caregiver finds their reward in helping others. No one could ask for a better best friend.

29% Athlete

The Athlete's focus and drive are unparalleled. Staying healthy and being fit are paramount to them (as for winning, that doesn't hurt, either).

TL;DR

Ollie is a sheet of iron on the outside, but a warm, caring mommy on the inside >:3

Tagged by: @patiencekindnesscourage

Tagging: @tiniestlegs @halforc-mercenary @risrielthron @rian-kestavin @alexkestavin @wildname @riizendraconis @saidelia-draconis @strixena @spirit-talker @the-tenacious @high-inquisitor @josiehastings @jean-aletha @thesistersdastorio (Justus!)

[absinthe-and-sin]

( a heart of my own creation ) // 🖤 — cares for her deeply and wants nothing but the best for her; determined to help her get to where she needs to be in life while being at her side every step of the way.

Nothing I can say will ever be a good enough response for this.

[chonkychungus]

Virtue’s Grace

“We are the sum of our deeds, not our names.”

The Basics ––– -

NAME: Ceciel James Ashmore

TITLE: Virtue’s Grace // Duke of Ebonbrooke Hollow // Wrynn Bannerman

AGE: 28 Years

BIRTHDAY: October 9th

RACE: Human

GENDER: Male

SEXUALITY: Heterosexual

MARITAL STATUS: None

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single

Physical Appearance  ––– -

HAIR: Blonde

EYES: Azure

HEIGHT: 6′1

BUILD: Fit

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: None

TRP Excerpt: Gold, shoulder-length hair, often swept behind each ear, complement the steel blue eyes which lend a poised gaze. Sculpted brows, creased with furrowed lines, conjunct with a characteristic scowl to perpetuate a stern and arduous aura; a defined look that seldom earns him the unwitting company of chatty strangers. Trimmed, blonde hair coat the margins of a stiff frown that plasters full lips, his well-kept beard continuing along the contours of a square jaw. High cheeks and a slender nose mark the fair-skinned visage, and though a reserved penchant broods from his stoicism, the gregarious and ephemeral smile is a rare bounty given to intimate company. A straight posture and broad shoulders carry weathered armor the paladin is seldom seen without. Worn pauldrons and a scratched breastplate, polished to an immaculate luster, bear black and gold motif alongside twin sigils of the Silver Hand. Steadfast gauntlets, fastened to the forearm, shield each finger with segmented plates of steel coupling the thick underside leather. The burden of each heavy sabaton, along with the combined weight of the entire suit of armor, herald the slow footfall carried by a proud, purposeful stride Ceciel holds. 

OCCUPATION: Paladin of the Silver Hand

PERSONALITY TRAITS: Candid // Reserved // Temperamental  

LANGUAGES: Common

RESIDENCE: Ebonbrooke Hollow (Elwynn)

BIRTHPLACE: Ebonbrooke Hollow (Elwynn)

Relationships ––– -

SPOUSE: None

CHILDREN: None

PARENTS: Garland James Ashmore (father; deceased) Julia Ashmore (mother; deceased)

SIBLINGS: None

OTHER RELATIVES: None ( I am open to suggestions for pre-established relationships )

ACQUAINTANCES/FRIENDS:  Lady Strixena Draconis ( @strixena ) Lady Valerie Shadebrook ( @valerie-shadebrook )

PETS: Archer (picture) Bron (picture) Heiress (picture)

Traits ––– -

extroverted / introverted / in between

disorganized / organized / in between

close minded / open-minded / in between

calm / anxious / in between

disagreeable / agreeable / in between

cautious / reckless / in between

patient / impatient / in between

outspoken / reserved / in between

leader / follower / in between

empathetic / unemphatic / in between

optimistic / pessimistic / in between

traditional / modern / in between

hard-working / lazy / in between

cultured / un-cultured / in between

loyal / disloyal / unknown / in between

faithful / unfaithful / unknown / in between

Additional Information ––– –

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess

A veteran of the Northrend campaign, the reclusive lord is the remaining heir to a forlorn legacy tied to the Ashmore name. Temperamental and slow to trust, the furtive paladin is oathbound to the greater realm, his own kin, and the cocoon of flaws that mark his character. Prone to the traps of a reluctant soul pushed into adversity by the hand of fate, the Duke of Ebonbrooke Hollow seeks to ensure the longevity of his charges with the weight of differing obligations taxing both his mantle and his incorruptible faith. 

I did a thing. Despite all the memes, shitposts, and the dog/cat posts, this is indeed an RP blog and I finally gathered the will to put something together. I hope to provide a more robust view of my character and encourage more interaction. I’d certainly welcome other PALadins to come fraternize with him. He IS a noble, his small House specializing in the modest export of lumber, ore, bred hunting hounds ( thanks to @adilynia​ for this suggestion), and the means to sponsor small IC businesses, and as such any sort of IC connections are entirely welcome. 

Thanks for reading, and I hope my character catches everyone’s interest! All artwork depicted here is done by me.  

[pettyelves]

A Strongly Worded Letter

"We have a problem with the store."

There were two things Not To Be Fucked With™ when it came to Eilithe Duskbringer. 

Her Family

And her fucking money. 

The letter arrived in Easterly via courier and was addressed simply ‘Mister Kotaj Seville’, in wax on the back it was bound by the rising sun seal- which meant it had come, officially from the desk of Arbiter Eilithe Duskbringer. When opened, it was even written on her personal stationary. 

‘Mister Kotaj Seville; 

I begin by saying in the one time I met you, I have expected a great deal more from you than to so carelessly spit on the alliance forged in literal blood between your Lady’s house and mine. To be told that you couldn’t care about the effects your disgusting power play would have on my pocket is insulting in the best of lights. 

So let me clear clear in saying: Dragon’s Breath is no longer your concern. And before you think to blame Riizen, do not-- because I made it very clear to her that there wasn’t a choice, because no one fucks with my money. 

Take care that the next time you make a call that you consider your Lady Strixena Draconis’ allies.

Arbiter Eilithe Duskbringer’

After the courier left her home with the letter in-hand, Eilithe sat back on the lounge between Kurel’s legs. Brooding. 

“Get sand in your cunt?” he asked with a grin, if only because he knew it would get a rise out of her. 

“Why don’t you lick it and find out,” she returned in a cruel coo, “No, I simply secured a bigger piece of the pie.” She smirked, “Unless you don’t want in on more coin, then I’ll just forget the whole ‘what’s mine is yours and yours is mine’ shit.” 

Silence befell them then-- though that grin stayed craved on his lips. One more piece on the board. 

@housedraconis @riizendraconis @the-voyager-kota @kurel-andiel

[saile212]

A Letter to the Dark Lady

Vinarei stood on the deck of the Veil Jumper, arms resting along the aged wood that made up the rail as she leaned down and simply watched what was taking place below. Leif Tindall, the man she'd been shadowing for the past few weeks was currently going over the most recent manifest as his crew unloaded a shipment. His words spoken earlier that morning were so very true, and part of her was in awe that the 'unofficial' overseer of Duskscale Harbor could run such a smooth operation.

A grunt came as a reply to what she’d said, accent thick as Tindall spoke in that gravelly voice of his. “Brooks, this is a well-oiled machine. Won’t find no better run port.” He gave her a wink as another puff of his cigar was taken. “Stick with me, you’ll figure it out.” He pointed out towards the crew, gaze traveling to various crew members as he spoke. “Every person here has a specific job, and they worry about that and nothing else. Focus on what -you- need to handle, and things run smoothly. You start running into problems when folks start putting their noses in others’ business.”

Despite the well-known fact that it was more criminal than not, the mutual respect among those who traded and did business within the harbor was something so many other locations lacked.... Duskscale Harbor was the home of merchants, sailors, naval captains, and pirates alike; so long as it was understood that it was ‘together, not apart’. On the sea they could be enemies but here in Duskscale there were to give mutual understanding and respect... How the Dark Lady had gotten that to take place, Vinarei didn’t know.

But it could be so much better.

It didn’t seem to matter to the woman that they hadn’t joined by choice. It didn’t matter that Ivory Sail Acquisitions was no longer her company. She saw potential here, and was very much beginning to enjoy having a new purpose. Leaving the deck, Vinarei made her way to the captain’s cabin, a letter prepared and address to Strixena.

Lady Draconis,

Since our arrival in Easterly, I have taken it upon myself to shadow a man of yours by the name of Leif Tindall. While I understand his position isn’t formal in the slightest, the man runs the harbor with great efficiency. Because I have been working with him, learning from him, I can’t help but believe my potential here is being wasted. We spoke before of what Ivory Sail Acquisitions can bring you and your House, but as stated previously, it’s not a focus. Nor should it be. Teaching your people to sail, teaching them to survive on the sea and be able to handle themselves is such a small portion of what can be done to improve the worth of those that fall under your banner.

It’s been noticed that Duskscale Harbor is home to many, and business is not only thriving, but also handled in such a way that allows those from many walks of life to deal with one another under the rule of mutual respect and understanding. I’ve been informed that what takes place out on the sea is set aside while business is handled in the harbor, which works well for the current way the harbor runs. What I believe is missing is something that ties everyone together outside of the harbor, not only within. House Draconis could be so much more successful, our grasp could reach further than originally thought if changes are made and the majority of those who do business here are joined together on the open seas as well.

That is what I have to offer you. I will bring them together, give them the opportunity to work together out on the sea as well as within the harbor, with benefits to all sides. Not only does this increase our number and those who will answer a call when aid is needed, but the increase in profit has no limits. You’re aware of the routes Captain Seville already has in place, and it’s no doubt that several of the other ships that pass through here have routes of their own, not to mention unknown sources that would now be open to us. We can utilize this, and make it work in our favor. Business is handled differently on the open seas than it is in the harbor, and knowledge of both areas will only make our operations run more efficiently.

I look forward to speaking with you.

Sincerely,

Vinarei Brooks

After scanning over her written words, the wax seal with twin sails representing ISA was pressed to the back, and then delivered to Tindall. He’d make sure the Dark Lady received it in a timely manner, and despite not having approval from the woman in question just yet, Vinarei began to plan for the improvements already in mind. 

@housedraconis @strixena @easterlycitizens

[velerodra-valesinger]

Broken Mirror

Notes: This is a follow-up to previous post. These things turned out to be longer than I had expected. There is still at least one more. I ended up stuffing a lot of backstory in here again. Sometimes I need to write these sort of meandering things, to sort through Vel’s brain. I forget sometimes, how messy it can be to keep track off all the different directions her head gets pushed and pulled in. There are bunch of really brief mentions in her towards the end.

Mentions: @avaraelia, @kurel-andiel, @eilitheduskbringer , @residentsofdeadsun , @ellwelune, @twiddist , @galirayna , @evelynnblackmore , @raylendaerthe​, @recke-stoutmantle ​, @gaelin-duskwhisper, @crymsynlotus, @novinderethehierophant​, @strixena​, @jagged-little-pieces​

This is the story of your gypsy uncle

You never knew ‘cause he was dead

And how his face was carved and rift with wrinkles

In the picture in your head

remember how you found the key

his hideout in the Pyrenees

But you wanted to keep his secret safe

So you threw the key away

This is the story of your gypsy uncle

–The Decemberists, ‘Red Right Ankle’

At dawn, she wrapped herself in robes and moved from the temple, to the chilly grounds outside. She turned to vapor, and let the winds carry her southeast, towards her home in the Jade Forest. Few knew exactly where she lived, and those who did, were unlikely to pay her a visit.

Avaraelia remained a major factor in what made Velerodra - who she was but her search for clarity was not over. Before she was her mother’s daughter, and all that entailed, she was a weapon. A weapon forged for a very specific purpose. As she walked the grounds of her Master’s home, which she had inherited, she knew that he too played a crucial role in sculpting Velerodra in - whoever she was now. His influence, like her mother’s remained.

She locked her door as she got inside and moved to her living room, the one room in her entire house that had any sort of ornamentation on the walls. Masks. A wall of them. Hozen masks. She stared at the wall and felt her head grow heavy from the void energies that she was containing. She knew what those masks held, she knew better than to look them in the eyes now. But she could still feel them, glaring at her. And even glances towards them caused whispers to start to creep from one container of her mind into another.

As the murmuring began to fill her head she left the room and freed herself of the dozens of blackened eyes that had been staring at her. Why keep such grim souvenirs?

They were hers. Each mask, had been used to aid in an exorcism. Each mask still contained the the essence of the Sha that had once possessed someone. That was the weapon her master had forged. He had found Vel, a strange elf who he quickly realized was missing something.

If our pasts define us, or shape us, what is someone who has a limited past? If someone has lived for years, but never could form coherent episodic memories, do they have a past at all? And how might such a being develop? If one day whatever had prevented the formation of long-term episodic memories suddenly was gone? The mind of a child, the brain of an adult? Was there a distinction between the two?

Velerodra Valesinger spent the first ninety years of her life hexed. She only knows this from medical records she had poured over endlessly. Ninety years, she spent, being moved from clinic to clinic, healer to healer, weak and feverish. Some records suggest her mind needed to focus on the most essential resources to keep her alive, and the formation of episodic memory was not such a function. It is the best explanation she has found for why she has no memory of most of her (estimated) life. In truth she had little idea how old she is, little idea where she comes from, and little idea of how she somehow was freed of her hex.

When Vel’s Master found her, she had that childlike mind, impressionable. Malleable. And he saw in her a blankness. A lack of emotional affect. She tried to emulate emotion, but she did not seem to grasp them. And with that as his material, he forged a weapon designed to deal with the Sha that had infected his homeland. The death rattles of an Old God. They preyed on emotions, but Vel, with her blank mind, had little to prey upon. She was taught to use her mind as a temporary prison. The masks that decorated her wall held the emotional turmoil of whomever she’d placed it upon. Why did she keep them? Because, she sometimes, longed to relive them. To experience the fears, hatred, doubts, and rage of others, in the hopes that she might understand what she seemed to lack.

Her Master later regretted what he’d conditioned his student’s mind to be. He’d essentially kept her emotionally stunted. Meanwhile other aspects of her mind developed normally.

For all the harm Avaraelia may have caused, she did, if nothing else, encourage her daughter to feel. To feel angry, to feel hatred to feel love. The demoness manipulated her in order to get Vel to experience feelings that she had been taught so hard to simply not acknowledge.

These two influences, Avaraelia and Xyolo could not have been more opposing. Yet they formed the foundation of who Velerodra Valesinger was. Somehow both of their influences still coexisting within her.

She was her master’s weapon. She was also her mother’s daughter.

Vel sat at the foot of her bed staring into a mirror, carefully studying her own mismatched eyes. A trail of mist began to wrap around her twist and turn and weave into a slender string that sort of hovered from her wrist. Her dark eye stared at her in the mirror as she heard more mumbling inside of her head. The mists turned black and thick, less a string and more a whip. With a hiss she pulled her arm back and struck forward, the dark sludge shattered the mirror and dissolved as a grey vapor. She stared now at the shattered mirror that covered the floor. She looked away in disgust. She had barely been able to look at her reflection, and now she glanced down and saw a cavalcade of partial reflections staring back at her.

Despite averting her gave, she still felt as if her own eyes were staring back at her. She wrapped her arms around her chest and shuddered. She felt — vulnerable. She moved to her closet and disrobed, exchanging her robe for something she felt truly safe in. Heavy metal gauntlets and boots, and thick fel-infused leather that seemed to cling to her flesh. There were two reasons she didn’t wear this armor often, the first was because of the sheer amount of demonic energy it gave off was not likely to go unnoticed and unquestioned. The second reason was because of the pain it cause. But, it made her feel safe.

She went to clean up the shattered mirror and knelt down. She stared at the fragments of her reflection. She reached out with one of her heavy gauntlets to try and collect some of the larger shards. But as she leaned forward she was again assaulted by a barrage of her own fractured images. She clenched her fist as her mind began to buzz.

She felt sick. Her stomach churned and she scrambled towards her bathroom, but she collapsed to the floor in her hallway. She vomited onto hardwood floors. She coughed and gagged. She didn’t get up. She closed her eyes.

She felt her mind shift. As it was trained to do. She felt the voices grow faint.

Who else, sculpted her? There was more to her than whatever  this was, wasn’t there? Her thoughts wandered to more recent events. About the things she still didn’t know after the events of Friday night.

She wondered if Kurel was doing any better.

She wondered if Kurel’s shape was still as it was before, or if it had returned to normal.

She wondered if she could have done more to help.

She wondered why she’d even offered to help Eilithe in the first place.

She wondered if Dalen had collected Elle, and if they were holding one another.

She wondered where the fuck Ethan had come from. She though he’d been exiled.

She wondered if Kit was right about calling Ray by her name. She’d tried it, but couldn’t tell if she liked it or not. Perhaps it was a poor time to test such things.

She wondered if Evelynn got away from Raylen.

She wondered if Evelynn was settled down.

She wondered if Recke ever went to check on her.

She wondered why Gaelen had attacked her and Saeris and if he was upset because of that time they’d knocked on his door.

She wondered if Lady Draconis and her people all survived.

She wondered about the screech from whoever the Dark Mother was, and what it meant.

She wondered if that meant this was over now.

She wondered if anyone found No’vi.

She wondered all of these things. But why?

Part of her mind told her it was natural curiosity. Part of her mind told her it was because she cared. Other parts of her mind started to grow louder and her stomach began to churn again.

She spent the rest of the day on the floor in her hallway. She spent that night there too.

She suddenly missed her friend, Ara. She tried to think of Ara as she lay there, about how they were both ‘alone-type-things’. And she told herself that Ara would not need help to get through this sort of thing, and that if Ara could be that strong as an ‘alone-type-thing’, she could be too.