#tindyl

[thesolitarystripe]

A Strange Meeting

I got ahead of myself in posting Tindyl’s reunion with her guild. Of course, she had a little persuading from an unlikely source.

Some days passed after Tindyl was reunited with her beloved; they went about making plans to continue in their duty to aid Oribos and the rest of the Shadowlands realms. It was a daunting task when done solely as a pair, but, if Tindyl wished it so—the warrior would be steadfast in his promises. Their siege upon Castle Nathria to end the tyranny of Sire Denathrius was plotted delicately and the birth of that mission would occur in the later hours of the day, when the sun hung low and shadows of the dismal trees that littered the courtyard before the castle, stretched thin upon the ground. Hours before, Tindyl kept busy within the markets of Oribos—crafting potions that might give them even the smallest advantage over their foes. She frequented the vendors often, especially with how often she managed to drop her vials and lose them among the hundreds of Alliance feet that tread through those halls.

“Preparing for a battle, young one?”

A voice came from behind the Archdruid, one she could not place to anyone she knew but in its delicate tone, there was an odd familiarity. Tindyl turn on her heel, having concluded her business with the local alchemist and affixed her eyes upon the one that spoke. Another night elf, one whose face was not known to her eyes. It was a female, with shoulder length golden hair, tied tightly up in a large bun upon the top of her head. Two flaming eyes blazed against hers, soft and pale like the color of the moon. The women held one another’s gaze in silence until the older Kaldorei spoke.

“That doesn’t seem like enough to support any army,” her voice was slow and thick, like expensive honey dripping down the side of a golden jar. The woman stepped forward and dared let a single finger poke beneath the leather flap of Tindyl’s satchel, where she had just placed her potions. “Perhaps and army of four,” she shrugged, glowing us flicking up to behold the bewildered expression on the druid’s face. Tindyl knew better than to disrespect her elders but pulled the leather pouch away hurriedly and slapped a palm over the top of it to dissuade the woman from attempting to touch her items again.

“There are many factions within the Alliance, some work in droves—others prefer to work alone.” Tindyl kept her voice steady and smoothed out her features to appear pleasant again.

“Do you prefer it?” One golden eyebrow rose even further up from where it laid across the woman’s brow. “Tindyl, isn’t it?” The female crossed one arm across her body, holding her elbow as her other hand waved upward and tapped a single finger against her lips.

“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced,” Tindyl pointed out hesitantly, uneasy that this woman knew her name and yet she was sure she had never seen her here or anywhere else upon her travels.

“I assure you; we have been young druid but, please, don’t stray from the question.”

This woman spoke with authority and stood with an aura of arrogance swirling about her. Tindyl could feel the power emanating from her counterpart but dared not take a step back, though her legs urged her to. A mage, no doubt. Swift eyes took notice of the staff that hung from her back, fire lapping at the blade as if it were made of wood—a spell of sorts that made the metal burn and yet it spread nowhere else. Who was this woman?

“Perhaps there was a time I preferred the company of others, but those days have since passed.”

“You were a guild leader, no? Have you left your people? Strayed from the flock?”

“Excuse me?”

“A small but mighty guild, with just enough heroes to make miracles happen and save Azeroth. Archdruid Tindyl, the fearless leader with nearly no experience in battle when she signed the guild charter—yet she found those willing to follow and even better, succeeded. Is that not you?”

Tindyl paused, her mouth ajar as her breath evaded her. “No…well...not anymore—I’ve left, you’re correct.” Now, she did take a step back, her confidence dissolving as it had so many times over the last several months. She felt backed into a corner, the high rising walls of Oribos closing in on her as she admitted openly that she was only a shell of her former self; to a stranger nonetheless.

“Why?” These were the first words the mage asked that did not feel as if they were being pressed into Tindyl’s throat with the point of a dagger. They sounded, caring.

“It’s a long story,” was all she could think to say as that tiresome lump formed in her throat. She had been so easy to cry these recent days and it bothered her so.

Silence fell between them. Tindyl’s eyes fell to the floor, her hands still clutching her leather pouch as her shoulders fell along with her resolve to look composed. Heat spread like wildfire across her chin so suddenly, Tindyl thought perhaps the mage had whispered some incantation upon her but her senses told her that it was only the feeling of skin on skin that touched her face. The druid watched as pale fingers had grasped her face, lifting her eyes back up to meet the warm glowing embers that intimidated her so.

“A story that I know; I only hoped you would tell me.” The mage again seemed soft in the way she spoke now, holding Tindyl’s jaw tenderly.

“News travels quickly,” Tindyl sighed, knowing well that rumors and gossip were not below even a hero within the Alliance. Her business traveled from ear to ear and yet none had bothered to come to her for insight into what had caused her to leave her beloved guild.

“Unfortunately, so,” the mage sighed. “I know it is difficult, young one—to be different. There are many that would seek to harm you for that sole purpose. People, beings, do not think like you do. They are not within these ranks to save the world. As difficult as it is to understand, there are some only here for power, greed, and self-gain. They will allow nothing to stop them from obtaining that end goal even if it means defamation of someone else. Betrayal. Lies, deceit! For every good soul, there are the damned ones. They will seek out the light in you and destroy it.” Her fingers clenched Tindyl’s face almost painfully, pulling her in closer. “You cannot let them win.” This came as a whisper. It was not a threat but between those breathy words, Tindyl felt the challenge within them.

“Why.” It was Tindyl’s turn to inquire. Despite the minor ache in her jaw, she peered up at the mage, eyes glistening as she asked the very question that plagued her mind daily. At this, the mage’s hand loosened and for a moment the druid thought the mage was about to pull her in and embrace her.

“My dear, if you spend you days asking that question, you’ll go mad within these very walls. There are so many petty reasons that drive men to act—it will only hurt you to linger on it.”

“Why are people cruel! Why join a cause so noble if your aim is to harm! Why risk your life if you do not care for the living that surrounds you?” Tindyl yelled, the anger that she fought to keep locked away within her pouring out into the face of this intimate stranger. “I’ve lost so much,” her breath hitched, and she looked up to stop the flow of her tears but they rolled defiantly.

“You are not the first Kaldorei to experience cruelty of the world, dor’elah. Many of us have been wounded over the many years that our lives span—it is what you choose to do with that pain, that will forge you.”

“What if I’m tired,” Tindyl’s voice came weakly, embodying the very words she spoke.

“Tired of what?”

“Being wrong.”

“Who says that it is so?”

“I imagine, everyone.”

“Do not let your imagination speak for you. We live based on evidence and tangible truths—who has said you are wrong? The ones that have left? So be it, let them run along with their thoughts because they are exactly that, thoughts. Just because it exists does not make it truth.” Tindyl’s eyes fell back upon the face of her elder, her jaw still nestled in that all too hot palm.  “A hero would make nothing of themselves if they cared for what others thought of them, you would do best to learn that now at your age. I took was young when I learned that what others want, what they believe, will not always align with what is best for me. That does not make me wrong, does it?”

“No.”

“Then why does it make you wrong? Why have you allowed one treacherous man unravel you? Because his allies follow him blindly and hang off his promises like babes to a teat? Hold your head up Archdruid, remember who you are and where you come from. You were not born of weakness. Have your tears and be done with it. Fight for what you are and what you believe in. Dragons do not heed the opinions of the cattle that they eat.” Finally, she released her hold on Tindyl whose tears had suddenly dried. “So, what will you do then druid? Will you be undone by someone who holds less worth and integrity than an old haggard boot? Or will you rise upon the horizon like your precious Mother Moon?”

The mage took a single step backward as if to take her leave, her eyes hard upon the face of the youth before her; that edge to her voice returned in full. She eyed the druid up and down, taking one last look before she spoke plainly.

“Make your decision Archdruid and remember—” Her hand reached out, her index finger finding the hard ridge of Tindyl’s chin just enough to tilt it back upward. “Head up.”

The golden haired Kaldorei turned then and took her leave within a small part of other mages, their cloaks fluttered behind them, her companions deep in conversation. They were gone around the corner before Tindyl could speak.

“Min’da,” her eyes were fixed forward as the realization washed over her. She had never seen her mother, not in her cognizant years. Her father spoke so little of her and Tindyl never dared broach the subject. That familiarity, the way with which she spoke, the fire in her veins—Tindyl knew. The Druid jumped forward after the small party but as she rounded the wall and stood in the entrance of the hall, they were lost among the crowds. Laurel Moonwillow was a powerful fire mage who worked within the Alliance and even had ties within the Kirin Tor; she had left Tindyl and her father not long after Tindyl’s first birthday. Her appearance had changed from the few stories Bai’len had shared of her—once blue haired with eyes to match, cool toned skin and bright yellow eyes. The fire magic had changed her. That was no surprise, Tindyl’s father had harped on that for years and it was one of the main reasons he had wanted Tindyl to fight only with bow and sword. Even as a babe when her affinity for nature magic and druidism began to blossom—he baulked at the thought of his daughter becoming a user of any magic.

Tindyl’s mind raced with all that had happened. After searching the halls for any signs of her mother, she eventually gave up and retreated to the outer edges of Oribos again.

What will you do then druid?

Deep within her heart, Tindyl knew what she must do—but was her heart strong enough after all it had endured, was what worried her.

[thesolitarystripe]

Any World of Warcraft Fans?

This is a scene I have been sitting on for, forever. Well, since last expansion. I write a lot of lore about my guild and original character in the game World of Warcraft. While I do not own any of Blizzard Entertainment’s characters or anything else in the world of Azeroth, Tindyl’s story is absolutely my own. If anyone was curious, I dreamt up this scene while listening to this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7kF4MXXCoA

There is also a second part to this scene that came to mind later on and over a different song so I may write that up next, or at some point. Anyway, this was fun. It’s nice to get away from the writing prompts every once in a while and write something else. If people enjoy the Tindyl series, I have a lot of content written about her that I would be happy to share and elaborate on. Most of these characters have been written about and introduced in all the previous writings I’ve made but they are all based on actual raiders in my guild. Some are still here and some are not. If they weren’t given a name within the story, it is safe to assume they are no longer in my life but they included in the story because sometimes side characters don’t stick around forever. 

If you’re a WoW nerd too, let me know!

Let go.

That insidious voice. It spoke, it wouldn’t stop speaking.

Such a heavy burden you carry. Soon you will be free of it.

Tindyl blinked wildly, as if the words were made of acid, blistering her eyes and eyes as shadows clouded her horizon. Where was she? The voices of her allies seemed so far away. “Tindyl!” That was…who? The archdruid settled her hand against her forehead, knee coming down to the fleshy ground stained a sickening purple with hues of crimson pustules and jagged openings like wounds etched inside flesh. Ny’alotha. The Waking City. Wasn’t that where she was? Tindyl looked at the ground but saw only grass; her hand pressed flat against the blades that were no longer the emerald green of her childhood but black and charred. Swiftly, her head shot up and her skin was painted in streaks of orange. Fire. So much fire. Teldrassil! Tindyl was off her knees and running, the screams of her kin drowning out the whispering that sucked her deeper into madness. The Kaldorei leapt over a fallen branch, the limb blazing upon what was once scared ground. Their home. Two feet turned into four, claws printing in deep against the soot covered ground as the long feline body surged forward.

“An’da!” Tindyl was running toward the fleeting shadow of a male night elf. The large figure shapeshifted from elf to bear. Her father, it had to be. She could see him in the distance, tossing others over his hulking shoulders and carrying them out of the flames that engulfed their home. The smoke was suffocating, she choked on its thick plumes but didn’t dare slow her pace as she ran after her father—she had not seen him in…She had not seen him since Teldrassil fell. Tindyl stopped, body transfiguring again until she was whole and back upon two legs. A night elf. “An’da,” her voice was softer, weary eyes following the shade of her father who never looked back. She had lost him already. This was not reality.

All alone in the depths…

That voice. Tindyl covered her ears, grit her teeth and shook her head, eyes falling closed against the deceit spread before her. These visions were not her own, her father was already dead.

“Tindyl!” The night elf opened her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath. The world had returned, her present moment. The images of Teldrassil, the fallen, the smoke and blood, vanished. She knew that voice. Tindyl turned her head and saw her dearest friend, the pandaren’s hand was outstretched as if the physical contact would solidify her friend in time and space. They just needed to touch. All around them the eyes of The Corruptor sprouted out of the ground, shrieking and hideous. Tindyl’s eyes swept the battlefield, taking account of her people and those that still stood. Her guild fought bravely, fighting against their own demons surely as N’zoth infiltrated the quiet corners of their minds. She turned to Kagurah, took a single step before she staggered backward in the face of an enraged ally. Their paladin. He had succumbed to the madness.

“Highlord,” Tindyl held out a hand, but the man was charging toward her with sword drawn. “Forgive me,” she whispered as her hands pushed forward and the winds of their natural word rushed out from her fingertips. The gust knocked the paladin back but only stalled him. Kagurah summoned a totem, seeing the change in their once trusted ally who now sought to see their leader’s blood. Before the totem’s effect could stop the human, a great hammer brimming with light struck Tindyl and brought her, stunned, to her knees.

“Tindyl!” Tindyl knew that voice, even in her weakened state where her limbs would not obey her mind. Her warrior. Eyes flickered over and caught the fading vision of her lover, his black hair whipping around his face as he thrust his sword up and into one of the looming eyes; his shield was held up to block a counter assault as he looked over his shoulder just in time to watch the hammer drop and strike down the Archdruid. Tindyl wished she could have comforted him. The look of worry on his face made her heart sink. That was her last thought as she flopped backward, lying upon the ground where the paladin had stunned her. Everything grew dim, the edges of her vision blurred. There was a vague recognition of Kagurah’s magic swirling about her in attempt to heal but Tindyl was sinking, being swallowed up by the darkness. It was quiet, almost…comforting.

“Tindyl.” A new voice. No, an old voice. “Tindyl.” How much time had passed between Tindyl’s body thumping against the ground to the moment her eyes peeled open, she couldn’t say but when she opened them and the haze began to clear away, she looked up at the ethereal form of her father.

“An’da?” Her voice croaked as if it had been unused for centuries. Her father’s arms slipped beneath hers, seeming to lift her up.

“On your feet,” he commanded gently, his face more tender than Tindyl ever remembered seeing it before. There was so much left unsaid between them after she had chosen to join the Alliance. Bai’len, the Guardian druid set like thick roots in his old ways—he disagreed with her choice and more so, hated her pursuance of healing magics. Tindyl’s lips parted as if to speak but all she could manage was to stare at him, eyes glittering even in the dank lighting of the old god’s lair. “Do you not remember who you are? Where you’ve come from? Your people are with you now.” As her father spoke, Tindyl looked away only for a moment and felt more sets of hands pressing her spine upward, setting her on her feet. She saw the ghostly white fingers that held her up in tandem with the strong arms of her father.

“An’da, I’m sorry.” Tindyl wept silently, tears cascading down her cheeks as the light within her faded.

“My child,” Bai’len’s rough fingers curled around Tindyl’s jaw, dwarfing her. “Stand firm in who you are. Feel the strength of your ancestors restore you. Remember who you are and who you were meant to be, hm?” Tindyl’s brow furrowed as her father looked out to where her allies still fought, even in the wake of her loss. They were covered in blood, some brought to their knees as weapons were knocked from their grasp. N’zoth was slithering into their minds, exposing their grief over the fallen Kaldorei and sinking into their souls. “Save them.” Bai’len looked at Tindyl. “Elune makes no mistakes,” his hand shifted from her jaw to the plump curve of her cheek. “Heal them.” The permission to use her gifts from her father. It was like a door had opened within her heart. Tindyl’s arms flew up above her, eyes searching for the light that beamed down upon her like Elune herself reached down her moonlit tendrils and washed away the corruption from her favored druid’s mind. The peaceful rains of Tranquility fell over their party. Hibikami, once brought to his knee felt the renewal of his ferocity, scraped up his axe and heaved it in one mighty blow. The weapon sliced through the air and planted within the sclera of one of N’zoth’s eyes. The creature wailed and fell. The dwarf laughed, sprinted forward to collect his weapon only to chop down another crying stalk. Kagurah looked to where Tindyl’s body had rested when she felt the rain, it could have only come from their Archdruid.

All the while, Bai’len held his daughter, smiling. Tindyl’s eyes had left the spotlight that Elune shined down upon her, glued now to her father’s face. She wanted to stay in the moment for the rest of her long life. Bai’len looked down at her and their eyes met. They regarded one another for several moments before Tindyl was snatched out of her father’s arms. The druid yelped softly, tumbling across the floor and into the torso of their human priest. A life grip.

“Tindyl, are you alright?” The human was touching her shoulder, but the moment Tindyl righted herself and crawled back on her knees she was looking back toward where her father had held her. Where she’d felt the embrace of her people holding her up. They were all gone. Breath came in short, rapid puffs as she held her gaze longer, hopeful that Bai’len would return. It was nothing more than a fleeting vision sent to her by Elune, perhaps. “Archdruid!”

“I’m fine,” she said suddenly, coming to her senses and feeling the weight of her responsibility. While she grieved upon the ground her guild still fought. A quick swipe at her eyes and she was nodding. “I’m fine,” she said again as she rose to her feet. The priest stood with her; hands latched on to Tindyl’s arm. There was a lull in the fight. Everyone paused and looked to her both with relief and concern. They were taxed. Exceedingly tired. “My friends,” she panted softly, seeing the despair in their eyes. Tindyl shook her head, “do not succumb to the darkness, drown out the whispers of N’zoth. Stand firm in who you are.” The words of her father echoed within the grotesque halls, and she felt emboldened. “Do not forget why you are here, why we fight.” Tindyl bared her canines, “For Azeroth!” A rally of cries reverberated the air, sending a new pulsing energy through their party. Tindyl’s body conformed to the four-legged feline once more, she leapt through the air, claws sinking in to a newly sprouted eye. It shrieked as her fangs sunk into its bulbous head, it bled and wilted to the ground. The cat sprinted alongside Kagurah, rubbing along the Pandaren’s hip once as they exchanged a look. ‘Don’t die on me again.’ Tindyl could hear it now. The cat grinned, a growl wrapped around it before the two dove back into battle.

Back-to-back they fought. Wisps of water flowed up and out as Kagurah spread her healing rain and the leaves of Tindyl’s magic swirled around her allies, mending their wounds. Their third healer, the priest, joined them a glittering ring formed around him and pulsed outward to strengthen and heal their allies. Together, they would save their home. For the Alliance, for the horde, and for all the lives lost throughout the trials of both sides.

[thesolitarystripe]

Tindyl’s  Departure

There was a a really rocky start of Shadowlands for Tindyl and I. We left the guild that we created for an assortment of reasons that I won’t get into but, this entry was something I wrote to both vent my feelings and to document Tindyl’s journey. All of these posts are out of order, I know. Someday, all these tidbits will add up to a big beautiful story that flows really well. Today is not that day.  As always, I do not own any rights to Blizzard Entertainment’s world, characters or original stories. I do however, claim rights to Tindyl, all related side characters and her story.

An oddly unwelcoming breeze sifted through the wide corridors of Oribos on this day; the day Archdruid Tindyl found herself sitting alone within the Ring of Transference. This new city with its tall steepled ceilings, high arching pillars, and cold stone floors never held the same homey feeling Boralus had come to bear but especially now, it felt empty, frigid. Tindyl had rested her back against one of the solid walls, knees drawn up toward her chest as heroes and champions bustled by, eager to trade with the nearest dealer. She had stopped briefly with the local alchemist and busied herself with dealings there, but it hardly held her interest once she acquired her vials. Those small crystalline containers rested in the warm palms of her hands, icy against her purple skin. What was their purpose now anyway? Dark eyes glanced downward, Tindyl’s chin dipping after them until her silver hair fell over her brow. Why had she bought so many if—

“There she is my little sapling.”

Tindyl’s brows knitted together at the unwelcomed intimacy with which she was being addressed but her head snapped upward in hearing the tone that dripped with familiarity; so much so, that her heart skipped in her chest. Deep blue, nearly black, met those chestnut eyes she had left back near the seas that soaked Boralus.

“How!” The night elf shot upright, her vials clinking against the ground as they fell from her hands. Before she could say anymore, two large arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her down and into the warm chest of the human she’d fallen in love with all those years ago. While public displays of affection were not customary in her home, it had been so long since she had been held so tenderly, she felt the staunch composure of her people melt away with eagerness. Tindyl’s arms clasped around the warrior, fingers clenching at his tunic as he pulled her against his chest. Tears bit at the corners of her eyes, but her fangs struck harder at her lower lip, fighting to keep them at bay. “Dalah,” she breathed into his chest.

“What’s a pretty moon child like you doing sitting here all alone on the floor?” He whispered into the tendrils of her hair, lips tickling the hard ridge of her ear. Their embrace didn’t loosen. The energy between them simmered violently, a desperate need to keep the physical contact emanating from the archdruid who, despite her height, practically hung against the human male’s body. “Come, I feel we have much to talk about.” His lips found the crown of her head, pressing a single kiss there before he took her by the arms and reluctantly pushed her from him. Their eyes met and lingered, as if they were two souls meeting again in the afterlife.

The warrior took one of Tindyl’s hands and placed it upon his bicep—escorting her out of the main hub and outside where the clouds swirled pleasantly and the wind constantly blew. They walked around the outer path of the ring until a quiet place, undisturbed by others, was found. The two of them sat near the edge and let their feet dangle downward into the ethers.

“I know you didn’t miss me that much,” he finally broke the silence, leaning over from where he sat to wipe a rebellious tear from Tindyl’s cheek. “What has you so distraught my love? Why are you hunkered down in Oribos all alone? I half expected to see you and Kagurah haggling with the vendors over the price of your precious herbs.”

“You have a lot of questions for a man that said he wasn’t ready for the next mission.” Tindyl clasped her hands together in her lap, looking sternly at her lover who questioned her so adamantly.

“I know,” he chuckled in that way men do when they know they’ve got explaining to do. “I wasn’t ready Tindyl. After all we had seen, the fight with N’Zoth—” His words trailed off as his mind wandered to those darker times. “It was true that I wasn’t ready to embark on this quest so quickly but, I suppose you could say that being away from you drove me madder than those insidious whispers still plaguing my mind.” He flashed one of those charming smiles that he knew had a strong chance of getting him out of trouble. Tindyl rolled her eyes, outwardly miffed still but reached across the distance between them and grabbed her lover’s hand.

“Still fluent in your tawdry flirtations,” she mused firmly, a smile threatening to show itself.

“Cheesy as ever but, you’ve learned to love it,” he winked at her, fingers giving hers a few small squeezes.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said finally, her voice tight as that persistent lump found its way into her throat again.

“What’s going on?”

“Where do I even begin…” Tindyl looked out into the horizon, watching as the pinks and blues of the sky mingled and shaded it a soft purple hue.

“Start from the moment I last saw you,” he cooed, leaning back onto his elbow and pressing her hand into the middle of his chest. And so she told the story of her travel to Oribos—of her journey through the Shadowlands and entreating all the Covenants. The warrior interrupted her, “Ah yes, let me guess, you sided with the Night Fae, I knew it the moment I landed there.” Tindyl pushed him in the chest, glaring at him but smiling just the same.

“Did you want to hear the story or not, Beans.”

“Always,” he pried her hand from his chest and kissed the tips of her fingers.

When her tale was finished—she had recounted all she had done for the Night Fae and people of Ardenweald. There was no easy way to discuss the more personal goings on and she faltered many times to continue. Sensing her hesitance, the warrior kneaded the back of Tindyl’s hand with his thumb, looking up at her and providing an encouraging smile.

“I left the guild.”

“What?” Beans sat upright quickly, “but you love—”

“I had to leave.” It was here her stony countenance failed her. She wept freely, silently as he held her hand. “I couldn’t manage anymore, Beans.” Tindyl looked to her lover for the reassurance that she had made the right choice. She had spent most of her time since coming to the Shadowlands doubting herself and her ability to lead.

“What do you mean? You’re a wonderful leader, strong, firm, resilient—”

“I am certainly none of those things, even you said yourself, I’m but a sapling.”

Silence fell between them. Tindyl’s gaze rested still on the clouds that ebbed and flowed, twisting around each other and nuzzling into the full pillowy edges of one another. Beans released the night elf’s hand and took up her chin instead; he turned her eyes toward his and regarded her sharply.

“Young as you may be for your kind, you are more powerful than you know. I have served in the Alliance forces for many years, more than I care to recount, and never—of all the generals I’ve seen, have I seen troops rally behind someone like they do around you.”

A sharp breath burst forth from Tindyl, her sorrow desperate to be set free. The gust brought a harsh sob out from her lungs as she pressed her chin down into Beans’ hand until his palm slid up to hold her cheek. Her shoulders shook with the weight of her cries that feel from her with ease as her lover’s comforting presence allowed her the space to feel. She no longer had to uphold the unbothered façade of the guild leader any longer.

“Oh, my little moon beam.” The warrior pushed himself back from the edge of the ring, grabbed the back of Tindyl’s neck and pulled her toward him until his other arm could wrap around her torso and bring her into his body. Despite their size difference, their bodies fit together with ease, his legs set wide so that Tindyl could lay between them with her head cradled in the curve of his neck and shoulder. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he sighed regretfully. “I should have been.” Tindyl’s soft cries were all that echoed around them now, the wind lifting them high into the air and carrying their burden away from her. Beans held his beloved until her body stilled and her breath evened; his fingers played in her hair, stroking the length of it and admiring the leaves that adorned her head. As far as they were from Azeroth, she still smelled of the forest, earthy and clean. Beans hugged her tightly and breathed in her scent before letting a long breath flow from his lungs.

“What now,” she finally whispered, voice raspy from her tears.

Beans looked out at the horizon, his hand cradling Tindyl’s head while his other arm held her in close.

“We do what we’ve always done,” he tilted the night elf’s head back so that he might capture her gaze once more. “We save the world together, just us—if that’s how you wish it to be.” Beans kissed her forehead, lingering for several moments before releasing her. “We conquer the Shadowlands together and I’ll work on my personal side mission.”

“Side mission?” Tindyl sat up, drying her eyes with the edge of her tabard, still displaying Teldrassil in all its ivory glory.

“To make sure you realize your worth and how important you are to this realm. You may think your guild doesn’t need you—but many others do, including me.”

Tindyl looked upon the face of her lover incredulously. Sometimes it baffled her that he was a human when in so many ways he seemed much farther along in maturity than she. How was it that she had such tremendous luck that day they bumped into one another in Boralus. Beans stared at her then, smiling in that inviting way that always managed to draw her in, even when she wanted to be cross with him.

“I love you,” he cooed sweetly. He was so endearingly human with how frequently and openly he was able to express his natural feelings.

“Kene’thil surfas, my beloved.”

“Ooh, I love it when you talk Darnassian to me!” Beans leaned in and peppered Tindyl’s face and neck with kisses, leaving the night elf shrieking in delight as she pushed him away.

“Stop it! You’re such a child,” she huffed playfully.

“I mean you’re the one who is technically, what, in her twenties by human standards?”

“I’m 305 years old! You’d better watch your tongue, young babe.”

The two dissolved into laughter, quieting only when a resident of Oribos happened to walk by. They then fell into easy chatter about their future, denying then the moment to linger on heavier topics; while their time discussing guild matters was far from over, it was clear the young Kaldorei needed the reprieve in the safety of someone she loved and the warrior was more than happy to allow her that time.

[thesolitarystripe]

The Edge

Well the next reasonable question after Tindyl left her guild was--does she ver go back?

The soft clack of hooves upon stone broke Tindyl from her reverie. The sun was low now, she opened her eyes and took in the magnificent view of Oribos’ skies at dusk. Brilliant hues splashed across the sky, clouds curling around one another like old friends. The sound of the beast that drew her from her meditations drew closer—it was certainly a hooved creature but not of the Equine sort. Tindyl was well studied in all creatures in Azeroth and in her many years of training she could easily identify an animal by the sound of its steps. She scrunched her nose slightly, breathing in as if to catch the scent of the creature on the wind. Is that a llama? They were strange creatures that she had only just met in Vol’dun. It was a pleasant memory of her and Beans scouring the sands in search of these illusive hooved animals that traveled so well within the desert; each of them found their fluffy companions with their deep black wooly coats. Such strange beings. Tindyl chuckled to herself and as she turned her head, she saw exactly what her ears had heard.

Her warrior rode high upon the woolen steed; its goofy expression turned serious. Tindyl got the feeling that the beast saw this moment as such a momentous occasion that he walked with the regal air of a dragon.  The druid smiled and was about to call out to her beloved and tease him for the steed that he chose but her words stopped short as she saw a familiar visage behind him. The glowing outline of a shaman in his ghost wolf form. The shapeshifter sprinted after the hooved animal, his wolfish mouth hanging open, tongue almost flapping in the wind as he breathed heavily.

“Hibikami?” Tindyl leaned back slightly from where she sat, wondering what could have brought her friend here. A small knot formed in her stomach as she feared either admonishment or worse. As the pair drew closer, the soft padding sound of feet came from the opposite direction. Tindyl barely had time to look before the vision of her closest friend almost knocked her from the edge of Oribos.

“Tindyl! My love!” Kagurah leaped toward her friend but in her excitement mis-judged the distance and toppled off the side of the floating architecture. Tindyl would have worried had she not seen many a hero commit the same folly. The ethereal magic that surrounded Oribos, gently picked up the panda and escorted her to safety back on stone ground of the building. By the time Kagurah had run back from where she had been diligently placed, Hibikami and her warrior were at her side and her back.

Beans came to sit beside her, his plate armor creaking as he sat and scraped against the stone as he moved. The ghost wolf shifted with ease into the familiar form of the dwarf Tindyl had come to love as a brother. While she had not fully understood the dwarven people at first and truthfully, the few she had met had come to irritate her—there was an unmatched charm about them, that even she could not withstand. Hibikami most of all, had certainly won her favor.

“Aye lass,” The dwarf’s hand fell upon her shoulder.

“Tindyl!” Kagurah flopped down beside her, huffing softly to catch her breath. “I’ve missed you! I did promise I would find you.” The panda was animated and excited, which caused Tindyl to break out into a smile she had long forgotten about.

“Oi, let her breathe my love, let’s not overwhelm her.” Hibi’s hand squeezed the druid’s shoulder. Reflexively, Tindyl’s had reached up to rest on the dwarf’s. These were her closest friends—her family. Tears threated her again as she glanced sideways at the human who simply sat, smiling ear to ear. This was certainly spurred on by him. A comfortable silence nestled over them as Tindyl breathed into the energies that enveloped her. Aside from the feeling she had when deep within the trees, there was no where else that made her feel as safe than when she sat amongst these three.

“I’ve been quite a fool my friends, I’m sorry for that.”

“Oh, hush. You’ve not been a fool until this very moment for even saying such a thing,” Kagurah lovingly chastised her. The panda threaded her arm through Tindyl’s and gently placed her hand on Tindyl’s forearm. “We’re sorry you ever felt that you didn’t have our support. You are not alone in this, not ever.” Kagurah squeezed her friend’s arm and leaned in to catch Tindyl’s gaze. Who would’ve thought a panda and a night elf could live to become so close as they?

“We’ve much ta rebuild bu’, I think we canna all agree, we’d break it all down again if it means yer happiness Tindyl. Me hammer will have ‘is way with any man tha’ dare stand in our path!”

Kagurah rolled her eyes but secretly, Tindyl knew the dwarf’s passion was admirable in her eyes and as much as she denied it, she found him charismatic.

“He’s not wrong, you know. I’d kill a man for you, even that one.” She thrust a finger toward Beans who kept that half smile playing across his lips, wiggling his eyebrows as if he dared Kagurah to try.

“I said, I would share,” he responded plainly. They all laughed.

“Would forgive a silly druid and have me back?” Tindyl almost bowed her head, shame trying to swallow her whole, but the mage’s words echoed in her head. Head up. The druid lifted her chin to the horizon, staring out over the dimming horizon.

“I thought ye’d nevar ask!” Hibikami leaped upward, a fist thrown into the air in celebration.

“Of course,” Kagurah scoffed. She slid her hand down Tindyl’s arm and forced the druid to open her palm. “I told you I would keep it safe until you came back.” The panda withdrew a single piece of parchment from beneath her armor and placed it into Tindyl’s hand. “She was always yours.”

Tindyl carefully clasped the guild charter within her fingers before pressing it against her chest. “By Elune, when will I ever stop crying,” she sighed angrily as her eyes watered.

“Give it time, we’ve been through quite the rough patch.” Kagurah’s soft hand gave her a tender pat.

“This calls for a celebration!”

“Here we go,” Kagurah sighed as Hibikami summoned a keg of mead right before their small party. “It’s always beer. A nice wine, would have been nice,” she surmised but Hibikami and Beans were already chugging the frothy spirits and dancing dangerously close to the edge of Oribos—they hardly heard Kagurah or Tindyl. The druid took her share and sipped slowly, if only to savor the warmth that filled her. While she knew it would take time for her own belief in herself to return, there were no words she could have used to describe the feeling that rose within her at knowing her friends believed in her, unquestionably.

Tindyl raised her chin up once more and smiled. It would be a long road surely, the heartache might be far from over but with the support of her small family, she knew they would overcome. They always did.

[thesolitarystripe]

This was actually one of the first “chapters” I wrote about Tindyl. I started playing World of Warcraft in Legion and haven’t stopped since. For anyone that plays and is familiar with the expansions; this piece took place in BFA. It’s short and simple but considering it was my first time delving into writing about her and my guild, it’s worth a post.  I also profusely apologize that none of her story is posted in chronological order. It is absolutely all over the place despite there being an order, for sure. If there are questions on what to read first, I’m happy to answer. 

There was little land untouched by her feet but, even still, it felt strange being here in this town upon the sea. The sun was hot and the air thick with salt as it wafted through the alleys of the Tradewinds Market. It seemed there was always a distant call of gulls and the noise of trade echoing between the sturdy buildings. The young night elf had not yet found a favorite spot, one that brought comfort and peace of mind—every city she visited had that one place for her.

Tindyl spent many nights when the breeze was cool and laughter dimly echoed from the inn behind her, sitting upon the stone ledge overlooking the harbor. Perhaps it was the sight of their ship and the Alliance sigil floating above the sea that provided reprieve and an ounce of serenity. Unlike many of her allies, Tindyl did not find comfort in the bottom of a bottle; nor did she particularly enjoy the effect spirits had on her. Though she loved them all, she preferred to listen to the waves crash into each other and watch the moon shine bright above them.

In all her excursions with the Alliance, never had she felt so unattached from the mission. She did her duty, as well as she could. She kept her friends alive no matter the cost while they defeated the horde and made their way closer to Sylvanas. Within her, her heart was uneasy.

No matter how desperately she tried, she could not forget the flames or the smoke that engulfed her home. The smell of burnt wood, how the once lush grass crunched beneath her feet, the screams.

Tindyl bowed her head, slender fingers gripping the cold stone as she sat upon that familiar ledge in Boralus Harbor. If she could forget the screams; wipe away the crimson memories that stained the back of her eye lids—maybe, then she could find peace in this new town.

If Tyrande had been there, she hadn’t seen her. With the orders given to her then, Tindyl worked with blinders on—desperate to save as many of her kin as possible. She bandaged until her fingers were numb and called upon her healing powers until her spirit ran dry. Even then, it was all for naught. So much and so many were lost.

She wished she had stayed until the last ember had fizzled out but, with orders to evacuate, Tindyl left behind her home and the shriek of her dying people.

The briny air smoothed over her skin, ruffling silver locks and pushing them over her eyes. They were dark against her pale complexion. Gone was the soft ivory glow she’d been born with. Becoming a Night Warrior was an easy decision. The return to Darkshore weighed heavily on her. Bearing the memories of that night she followed Dori’thur—chills running down her spine.

Once her boots touched the familiar soil, damaged and strange as it was, it felt familiar and welcoming—as if the earth called to her still, as it did when she was a child. She had pressed one palm to the moist sand and soaked in the rage that had seeped deep into the land. Tindyl let it consume her as she and her allies charged further inland to find Tyrande.

Hearing Tyrande bark orders at their sacred Elune struck both fear and admiration within her breast. Why shouldn’t they be angry? Where was Elune when her people suffered and wailed beneath a night sky, painted in flame?

Tindyl accepted Elune’s power, hoping for a feverish moment, that she would be deemed worthy enough to wield it. It scared her now how quickly it was for her to accept death—should Elune’s power tear her apart. She was grateful it hadn’t.

We will Kill them all.

Tindyl stood, shaken but renewed as this celestial power coursed through her veins.

All her life she had lived to save, to heal, to protect. As she stood now, the looming vision of Teldrassil’s skeleton in the distance, she vowed to follow Tyrande’s orders.

The time for mercy is over.

Tindyl’s eyes opened, glistening as new tears formed and slid down her cheeks. She did not regret the lives she took. Over the years of service to the Alliance, she had followed through on every mission, every target. Yet she wept more than ever now.

Why?

Her fingers came up to brush her hair back from her face and quickly hide the shimmering droplets as the sound of footsteps padded behind her. A slight turn of her head brought the vision of a familiar face. Tindyl eased back off her knees and sat her hips down in full upon the ledge so that her feet could dangle over the side.

“Out here alone Archdruid?”

The female panda took a seat beside the night elf, she needn’t ask if her presence was wanted. It always was.

“Please,” Tindyl laughed softly, “don’t call me that.”

Both women rolled their eyes and shared another chuckle. Together they stared out over the sea, Tindyl’s heels thumping against the stone as she kicked out her legs methodically.

“Missing home?” The panda asked boldly. Tindyl glanced sideways at her before fixating on the moon above. Only her dearest friend, Kagurah, could speak so blatantly. Everyone else didn’t dare broach the topic.

“Of course,” Tindyl sighed simply.

Kag nodded, she often found her friend sitting out here staring blankly at the rolling waves.

“We’re going to take it back.”

Tindyl looked at the panda with a plain expression, eyes wide with disbelief. People always said that these days, but it was hard to feel its truth.

“The Alliance has always been met with hard times and we’ve always risen above it.” Kag spoke with a confidence that stirred Tindyl’s heart. “But you can’t keep sulking out here until we do,” she chastised before wrapping one strong arm around the druid. “Come have a drink with us, you can sit between Hibikyoku and me. Felwalker and Heftyweizen are in there,” she nodded back toward Snug Harbor Inn. “Everyone, everyone is in there asking about where you’ve gone off to.”

Tindyl struggled mildly against Kag’s hold; she had forgotten there was comfort to be found in the warm arms of the people she loved. The night elf patted Kag’s soft wrist,

“Fine. Only because you asked and just this once.” Tindyl’s voice came in a slightly annoyed grumbled.

Kag hardly noticed and dragged the silver haired elf to her feet. They were in the warmth of the Inn before Tindyl could protest any further. Seated at the tables were the members of their guild. Shamans, warriors, rogues, monks—humans, pandaren, void elves, draenei.

The shaman’s arm was still around her as Kag laughed at something Kreevus had said. Kag released her and took her place beside her husband, paws wrapped around her half-full tankard.

Tindyl felt the fire in her soul stir as the voices and laughter of her companions filled her ears. Maybe she was luckier than all of them. Perhaps Kul Tiras would never give her a place to feel at home but, she didn’t need one.

She was pulled down into one of the wooden chairs by another familiar pandaren and found herself sandwiched between him and Torvamir, their paladin. Hefty greeted Tindyl with a hearty hello; and a drink was set in front of her by a lovely barmaid.

Tindyl felt so silly for forgetting that this familiarity she craved, the warmth and love, the peace—was with her wherever she went, as long as she was surrounded by the people she loved most. A silent vow was lifted, Elune as her witness, that she would protect these special people until she drew her final breath.

“For the Alliance!” Hibi swung a freshly filled tankard of ale and it sloshed over the sides onto everyone sitting near him. A small army of glasses rose to meet his in the air.

“For the Alliance!” Tindyl lifted hers too, a smile breaking out over her face as the whole room chanted and cheered in tandem.

[thesolitarystripe]

Tindyl’s Origin

How I’ve not posted this is beyond me..

It was an especially bright night, the evening that Tindyl was born. The moon was high in the sky. Its shimmering image was crisp and untouched by clouds. It was taken as a good omen as the young night elf was birthed beneath the giant limbs of Teldrassil. She was born of parents; Bai’len Moonwillow and Laurêl Sagebloom.

Bai’len, a Druid of the Claw, came from a long line of druids that also followed the path of Urso and Ursol. When his daughter was born, he dreamed of a life for her where she might follow in her ancestor’s footsteps.  As the world turned and decades passed, it became an apparent reality that times were changing. Female Kaldorei were becoming druids and males taking up Priesthood. Though he was conservative in his beliefs, a faint flicker of hope welled within him—perhaps Tindyl Willowmoon could become a druid.

It was a silent wish he kept to himself for many years.

Much of Tindyl’s childhood passed as it did for all Kaldorei children. She ran through the forests, danced with the whispering wind, and lost herself amongst the fields of flowers. Bai’len saw her connection with nature at an early age; though all night elves bore the same deep love for the perseverance of nature and swore their lives to protect it, he was sure that when Tindyl spoke to the trees, they spoke back.

When the young night elf reached the age of 100, she had a general grasp of all the duties available to her within their society. Bai’len taught her without sway. Though the druid tried to remain unbiased in his teachings, he couldn’t help but spend a little extra time showing her how to sharpen her claws or learn how to knit her pelt so tightly together that it felt like iron.

On days when the sun was high and the forest lost some of its naturally dim hues, Bai’len would take Tindyl to the main continent of Kalimdor, into the trees of Darkshore, and spar with her. The little she-elf practiced shifting in and out of different forms and did so adeptly. Bai’len knew fully that not every elf born had the knack for nature magic and the fact that his daughter caught on at such a young age, surprised even him.

He chose to practice away from their home for fear that others might think ill of him. While it had become more commonplace for females to practice druidism, his old bones felt the uneasiness of thousands of years of tradition. Some still did not approve of the societal changes and Bai’len feared that Tindyl might be treated harshly for her interests.

So, they spent their mornings nestled in the cool forest of Darkshore. Tindyl would practice shifting until Bai’len saw no hesitation in the way her body morphed. This simple teaching left her too fatigued to carry out any other lessons but; as she grew, her body became resilient and she took on the form of a cat, doe, bear, and dolphin with relative ease.

When she had the energy, Bai’len challenged his daughter to a sparring match. At first the young one was shy and meek to fight her father. When she stood beside her father in his guardian form, her eyes would fall to the massive prints left in the damp dirt as he walked from her and she worried that her own paws might never grow to even half the size.

Despite the hesitant approach Tindyl took to swatting at her father with a thick paw, the elder did not relent. With the same ferocity he would take to battle, he dove at Tindyl; teeth bared, claws protruding, and a mighty roar shaking the trees around them. Day by day, she cowered less and fought back more.

There were not many matches that she won but every so often, her teeth would nip the right spot behind her father’s neck and the druid would howl. One paw might swipe above his massive head, but she was small and quick. With the distraction, Tindyl would seize her opportunity as Bai’len stood with only three feet upon the earth. Their bodies crashed together as she lunged fearlessly, and they toppled into the grass in a pile of silver fur.

Bai’len’s laugh was as loud and rumbling as his roar. In an unusual display of public affection; he’d scoop up Tindyl and press his forehead against hers and scold her playfully for picking on her old father. Tindyl would laugh, roll her glowing silver eyes, and push herself out of his grasp.

It wasn’t long into her adulthood that he watched Tindyl’s demeanor change. While she obeyed and trained in the shade of Darkshore, there was a heaviness upon her heart. Her laughter did not echo between trees like part of nature’s symphony. Bai’len found her one evening sitting in a large meadow, head back as she stared up at the moon.

“What troubles you?” He asked in his deep baritone.

Tindyl’s eyes shut and a long breath slipped through her lips slowly.

“You’ve always told me of my ancestors, of your father and mother, and of theirs, Druids of the Claw. Druids of the Talon.”

Bai’len stood with bated breath. This was the moment his heart had held onto from the moment Tindyl’s first cries were lifted upon the wind and into the branches of their home. Yet, he felt as if he hadn’t enough time to prepare over these last 105 years. The druid stood beside her now, eyes fixed upon her face as his daughter’s brow knit together.

“I do not think I was meant to follow in their stead,” her voice was almost fearful as she said it. Those bright eyes opened and watched for her father’s reaction.

Inwardly, Bai’len felt a piece of him shatter but his face remained smooth.

“You have always had a choice, daughter. It would be an honor to serve with The Sentinels or even one day, The Wardens.”

“An’da,” her hand waved in the air dismissively.

Thinking that his daughter meant to shy away from his suggestion of becoming a Warden, Bai’len continued. “It is a high honor Tindyl, you’ve trained extensively in many areas I do not doubt—” Bai’len was interrupted.

“I do not want to be a Sentinel or a Warden.” As if preparing for battle, Tindyl got to her feet noiselessly.

“Then, what is it you want?”

Their shadows were cast long against the lush green grass as the moon shined down upon them. A desperate prayer was lifted to Elune as Tindyl took another deep breath and clenched her fists.

“I want to be a Druid of the Wild, I want to learn more of what you’ve taught me all these years. You said when I was young that it was uncommon that someone should be able to shapeshift into more than one form. I think..I must have been born with this gift, given to me by Elune herself!”

It amused Bai’len slightly to see his daughter’s purple skin flush with a red undertone as she passionately delivered her reasoning.

“While I love spending time with you in the forest, I do not think that I was meant to follow the path of Urso and Ursol. Nor am I meant to follow Avianna.”

“What do you intend then?” Bai’len’s arms were crossed lightly over his wide chest.

“I’m going to use magic…nature magic…to…heal.”

A single thick, silver brow raised high as Tindyl delivered her intentions in full. Bai’len’s composure broke mildly as his lips parted and he gazed down at his child in bewilderment.

“I’ve not taught you anything of restoration, who has put this thought into your head?”

“I did.” Tindyl stared up at her An’da, voice firm and calm for the first time during their meeting beneath the moon. “I would gladly spill blood to protect our home, our kin, our ways but it does not feel right. I am a warrior only because you’ve taught me how to be one, but it is not who I am within my heart.”

Tindyl waited in agony as silence fell between them. It was not within her nature to fidget or show any signs of her true emotions, but her eyes did hold the vision of Bai’len’s face tensely. The elder rubbed his forefinger over his bearded chin. The white hair bristled beneath his fingers as he scraped at the dark purple skin below it.

“I will not allow this, Tindyl.”

“But you would allow me to strap a bow to my back and ride a nightsaber alongside my sisters who die in battle against those that encroach on our home?”

“Do not raise your voice to me,” Bai’len threatened, voice like the snarl of a bear.

“Traditions are important, father.” Tindyl composed herself in an effort at another attempt to persuade him. “I believe that fully. Our ways should be preserved, our beliefs upheld, but I ask if you would allow me to practice druidism—something once unheard of for a female not many moons ago, why do you baulk at the idea of my healing? I only want to serve our people, to heal the wounds that would not otherwise mend. I’ve seen the soft green glow of that magic flow through my veins in dreams sent to me by the moon goddess. I can feel it in the tips of my fingers when they graze the petals of flowers and trunks of our trees. I will not allow it to consume me, not like it did to mother.”

Bai’len’s head snapped upward from where his eyes had drifted to a single flower swaying in the breeze.

“You will release this foolish dream from your head.”

That was the last word. Bai’len left Tindyl standing under the comforting rays of the moon. Tindyl sunk to her knees where she stood. The small stalks of grass were light against her skin, wrapping around her fingers and wrists as if to console her. The earth beneath her fingertips sang to Tindyl in the chirp of insects and call of evening birds. She knew it in her heart that what she said was true.

A single tear dripped down her alabaster skin and fell into the dirt below. In a dizzying instant, a wisp of green light shot upward. It vanished as quickly as it came and, in its place, stood a fresh silver flower. Tindyl’s hands hesitantly cupped its petals. The faintest green hue emanated within her palms and caressed the smooth edges of the plant that had just come into existence. A somber smile graced the night elf’s lips. She kept her hands around the flower as she leaned back and looked up at the moon.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Her words were carried away upon the wind, whisked up and away into the leaves of their mighty Teldrassil. She could only hope Elune heard her and continued to show her the path she was meant to tread.

[courtney-faith]

Stay With Me by Tindyl