#tyleril silversword

[moonunveiled]

not alone

“Moonveil??”  The voice seemed at least as much frustrated as it was confused, but there was an audible sigh of relief when Lyrenn nodded yes. The strangely large crate was thrust forward against the blond’s chest and the moment he’d taken control of it the courier retreated. “Direct to you.”

Ah, no wonder he was annoyed. He’d spent who knew how long searching for Lyrenn while the druid had been hours in the forest doing.. whatever druids did out there. At least as far as the poor frozen courier was concerned. Putting his hands to his mouth to blow warm breath between them, the elf turned on his heel and was away to deliver less bulky things.

Lyrenn watched him go for a moment before looking questioningly down at the crate. A note taped to the top had him hurrying to his tent. His bunk mate was missing for the evening- likely on watch or enjoying a night of stories about a fire- so Lyrenn plopped himself down on his bedroll and reached to ignite the flame in the lamp hanging from a pole in the center of the tent. The faint light was more than enough to read the letter by

              Son- I found this animal not far from the camp with others that were to                        far gone for me to save. I did what I could- the paw has frostbite                         and I fed her some water and dried meat from my rations- but she                       has not taken kindly to me. Would it be to much to ask if you could                       watch her until the morn? I wish I didn't have to ask and burden                           you but I fear leaving her alone and you're one of the few the Light                      has whispered can watch her.  If you cannot send her back with                            the Courier. Be good. I love you.      -Tyleril

                    P.S. Her name is Skritches.

Lyrenn stared at the note for a moment, lingering on the last line before the post script before a noise from the box had him reaching for the lid. An immediate whirring growl split the silence. He paused, setting the lid of the box down and peering into the crate. Inside huddled a fox cub. She had shoved herself into the corner furthest from him, tail curled around as if to hide her. Her ears flattened and a sound somewhere between a whine and a warning came again. She was white, though the tips of her fur seemed almost blue. Dark eyes watched him warily, and Lyrenn turned to pull his meat rations to him. He was suddenly thankful he’d kept them. “Here now bit, be calm.” He fished a piece of jerky from the tin and offered it out, at the edge of the box so not to crowd her. At first the fox snapped, a high pitched growl bouncing around the box. Her shuffling let him see the bandage wrapped foot Tyleril had written about.  “I know...” He cooed, “I know.. you’re scared and hurt and alone. You’ve lost your family all at once and that should never happen. I’m sorry. I can’t bring them back or replace them, and it will never be the same. But maybe I can help a bit, yeah? You're not alone now. And happy will come again.” He watched her watch him, little head tilting a the sound of his voice. It would take a lot of this, he figured, before she chanced to take that meat.

“You and I have a lot in common you know. My brother would have loved you. My sisters.. would probably want to put bows around your neck..”

@tyleril-silversword, for mentions

[razxion]

Razail: A Gift Delivered

Time seemed to crawl, each day longer than the previous as Razail waited with a gift to be given.  It was simple, perhaps that is what bothered him, besides the fact it has been many days, nearly weeks, since he has last seen whom this gift is intended for.  His heart starts to hurt each time his eyes catch sight of the small bag within his pack, each time his worry grows: Are they alright?  Will they like it?  I miss them.  Do they think about me as much as I have about them?

Finally he grew sick enough of wanting to give his gift in person that he was going to deliver it to their home, even if he doesn't get to hear or see how it would be received.  Deciding to put on his old armor, black with gold trim that was mostly patchwork now, if you looked close enough.  It made him feel more confident that he could hand his gift over into the hands of another that would surely deliver it to the person he wanted.  Grabbing the small bag, Razail leaves the apartment of Tyleril Silverwood, without a word.

The rogue runs as fast as he can, remembering where he needs to go with ease.  Getting closer to the beautiful tree, he slows down, admiring them as he passes over the old wooden bridge.  The sight of the enormous mansion causes him to pause and grip the small bag tight.  Razail debates on heading further, if his small gift is even worth the time to bother another with.

Hours pass with no one noticing his presence, and noticing someone move past the windows closest to the main door gives him a reason it would not be bothering them too much.  His emerald eyes keep a close watch on the door as he runs up to it.  A swift knock, and a hope that this can be handled quickly.

A woman answers, a servant, and before she can even speak Razail holds the bag out to her.  “Can you make sure Lazarus gets this for me, please?” She nods, gently taking the bag from his hands and looks down at it while she speaks.  “I certainly will ensure Lord Redmorn receives this.  Who-”  She looks up as Razail runs away.

His gift is delivered.  Inside is an elementium ring, shaped as a leaf with a peridot gem within a spiral on the opposite end, and a bathing bomb of sorts, along with a tiny note written poorly but the best he can do:

Lazarus, Thought of you. Razail

@treyu @tyleril-silversword

[felthier]

🌈

You’ve been a great part of the guild ever since you joined. While we don’t interact one on one much, I think you’re swell. Our styles of RP might be different, but that’s okay and I’m glad that you’re around. 

[kai-2124]

Patreon reward for @tyleril-silversword for @razxion

Tip Jar | Twitter | Patreon

[teechew]

Least favorite human character(s) and A character you love that no one else seems to

Least favorite human character:His name is Spike, in the Optimus Prime comic. He’s inssuferable to me ! Acting like transformers areall big killing machines and that he did nothing nothign wrong while being the exact reason of many treason in the comic.I’d be happy to see him die.A character you love that no one else seems to:Honestly... none ? my big favs (Ratchet, Minimus/magnus, Optimus & Jazz) are pretty much appreciated by everyone. I’m pretty vanilla when it comes to  characters xD I like the hero and hate the bad guy.I DO have the inverse tho: “Character that everyone loves and you don’t”.

[lorstandian]

Happy Birthday! Have a good day!

Thank you!

[noctuaalba]

Happy birthday! Have a good time!

oh thank you dear!!

[moonunveiled]

Dawnmender Mission: Kris

                                     [Colab between Tyleril and Lyrenn]

Satchel? Check.

Things he needed in the satchel? Bandages, salves, needles, i.v. starts, a few bags of fluid he'd snagged from the infirmary.. (He could already hear Dr. Novastorm demanding a form for those bags..)  Check, check, check.

He stopped short of the building he was headed toward, pulling his nose from the inside of his bag. Mage place. He wasn't sure what it was actually called, so mage place seemed appropriate. Luckily they'd be getting a portal from here and not riding however long it would take to get to this village.  Convenient but worrisome. He brightened considerably when he spotted Tyleril. Not hard, the man was tall. And he kinda shined. "Tyleril!" Lyrenn waved his arm, squeezing past a few lingering magisters to reach the priest. "Hi." He beamed at the other.

Tyleril did indeed shine. The halo always glowed brighter with holy magic nearby and so close to the infirmary he was like the world's worst beacon.  Wearing his priestly robes with the red and gold tabard covering him, his calloused hands tapped at his body to double-check and ensure everything was there. Keys, messenger bag, necklace, potions. The war hammer at his waist was belted to tightly to do him much good, if any at all. He smiled at Lyrenn. "Hello!" He greeted cheerfully.

"I'm glad we don't have to get there the long way, even if portals kinda make my stomach flop." Lyrenn was already peering ahead of them.  Surely they weren’t the only menders going to the village- he'd expected a line.  Of course, he was surprised at the efficiency shown by the mages, they even had helpful little signs addressing where each portal being opened was going so you didn't unknowingly step off the continent. Lyrenn started forward, nosing about for theirs. "What're you expecting when get there? What even happened, something bad? I didn't really hear. People getting sick.. something like that." He stopped abruptly, pointing ahead of them. "Looks like ours."

"Oh, I don't think it'll be bad- wounds are w-wounds. it's less bad if you just focus on the damage you need to fix or sustaining them until you get more help." Tyleril's footsteps were heavy as they walked, glancing around. "Where-oh! There w-we are. That's good."

Lyrenn didn't say much, but jingled his bag by way of ticket. He didn't think he needed to say much with Tyleril behind him. He might not look like much but the bulky priest with him was fairly obvious. Not that the mage seemed to care, his job was to hold portals not check bags. The stomach turning weirdness of portal travel enveloped him as soon as he stepped into the shimmery lights. It might have lasted less than a minute but the blond still made a displeased noise as he materialized on the other side in southern Quel'thalas.

"Ah, portals. I love the convenience of them." Tyleril looked around, looking pleased to have taken so little time to get to where they needed to be. He smiled at Lyrenn. "R-ready to see what awaits us at the village? I don't think it'll be nice or pleasant but we'll see what we can find." Lyenn nodded, patting the satchel at his side.  The short walk from the position of their portal toward the heart of the village was sobering.

"It looks like a wreck.." The blond's voice was low, a mumbled whisper as they approached a large communal looking building. Almost immediately they were beset on. The man approaching them wrung his hands before brushing them back through his hair.

"You're the menders they sent, ya? My boy's hurt bad. We had to wait for you ‘ta come to us, with the way things are. Look at him will you, he's back here." The  older elf motioned for them to follow, leading the way toward the back of the building where several injured were laid out, covered in blankets and tended by haggard looking helpers. Tyleril smiled at the worried man, nodding as he listened and followed after him, gesturing for Lyrenn to come along. As they went his smile faded to be replaced by a more serious expression as critical gold-green eyes take in the situation of those around them. Lyrenn's pleasant demeanor shifts as well, brows furrowing as he glanced from bed to bed piecemealed together in the wake of whatever had happened here. Fingers curled around the strap to his satchel as he slid into line behind Tyleril, keeping as much out of the way of bustling volunteers as possible. It was clear the more grievously injured were being housed at the back of the building, as the further they walked the more powerful the smell of copper and vomit became.

"Sellan, they're here. We're gonna get you fixed up, alright son?"

Lyrenn expected to hear a response. When none came he peered around Tyleril. Unconscious. And.. oh Light he looked horrible. What had his book said? You'd know when you saw someone seriously hurt? Well... it was right.  He just managed to reign in his first instinct, which was to curse. Tyleril’s nose wrinkled at the smell, fingers twitching as he followed after the parents. When they stop and stand by the elf that was presumably their son he knelt down next to him to study him with a critical eye. He tilted his head to use the halo’s light to better see. “W-what happened?” He asked calmly as he pulled out his bag. It was bad but he wasn’t dying right now and Tyleril wanted to be as careful as he could before he started.

"He was on the roof and fell off." Sellan's father, presumably, opened his hands as he continued. "We were repairing it. He hurt his leg but.. we couldn’t take him anywhere. My wife's been putting a salve on it but..." The man shook his head, turning slightly away.

Tyleril’s bag was sat within reach and he checked the young man over, nodding for Lyrenn to come close. "Come here Lyrenn." The warm smile returned. "We'll need to be fast."

The blond quickly closed the distance and slid to his knees beside Tyleril. While the senior medic readied his gear, Lyrenn reached out to touch the elf's neck, feeling for a pulse. He frowned, glancing back at Tyleril as he felt. "Thready and quick.. it's really hard to feel." Almost as an afterthought he leaned to push the blanket back from their patient's lower half. The cloth had apparently been keeping most of the stench from his wounds muted however, as the moment it was raised a wave of decay strong enough to burn hit both menders. Lyrenn dropped the blanket and sat back quickly, using both hands to cover his mouth and nose.

Tyleril's nose wrinkled at the wave of decay, drawing a shake of his head. He simply began to take deep breaths. Vile smells went away faster if you breathed in more.  His fingers brushed against cold skin and he frowned. "Cold," His eyes moved over the patient  but he couldn’t stop the sound of revulsion his body made from the smell. "Rot, bone protruding from the s...s-skin." He was happy now he'd forgotten to eat breakfast. "Discolored s-skin where bone protrudes." If there had been time he would have quizzed the parents on why they waited so long with such a injury. "That means the bone broke off sharply enough to go through flesh and meet air." Tyleril glanced to the parents.  "L-lyrenn, look at this."

Obediently Lyrenn leaned forward, scooting closer to both Tyleril and the boy laying in front of him. The sickly smell stuck to his nostrils and coated the back of his throat. One of his hands remained poised over his mouth, though he wasn’t sure why. He examined the protruding bone. "Shock? Sepsis?" His voice lowered slightly as he continued, "How're we gonna get the infection out- what if it’s in his blood already? Can you cleanse that much?"

"Both." Tyleril answered as he eyed the bone. "Feel how his skin is cold. The breathing, the rot." His lips thin  as his mind runs through possibilities. "Purging is not my s-specialty. But..." He rubs his jaw. "It's likely already in the blood by now. See how close he is to death's door?" He gestures to the young man. "Do you do purging well Lyrenn? I know the spell but it drains me more to purge and cleanse than it does to mend flesh."

"I can try?" Thin blond brows knitted together until they nearly looked like one. He inhaled a large breath, tilting his head away from their patient. It was a strange balance between politeness and necessary breath. "I've never done it before.." He wasn't sure if the magic would even come to him like that, so far he'd only attempted to coax plants to bloom. This wasn't quite the same.

"Do you have a deity or particular spirit you worship?" Tyleril asked patiently. This wasn't the battlefield, their patient was in danger but they had a small window for Lyrenn to try on his own. He glanced to the patient's face. "On the battlefield I'd take over. But here we have a bit more time to use before we need to take emergency action with m-magic. Just ask. Most deities will not deny a new petitioner, especially one who would be a healer." He held his hands out, away from Lyren so as not to interrupt Lyren's own magic. He continued to take deep breaths as he watched, eyes gentle. "Prayers can help direct your healing and where you w-want the power to go."

Lyrenn nodded. Just.. ask for help. He could do that.

"I'll try," he said firmer, giving a quick nod and turning his attention back to their patient. Of course that meant moving closer. His ears tipped back and he suppressed a gag, removing the hand from where it covered his mouth and joining it with the other now hovering a few inches above the boy's wound. He closed his eyes, trying to picture the elf before them's lifeforce the way he could a flower. It was there, after a time. A soft pulsing beneath his hands.  Soon the infection became clearer. Like eyes adjusting to darkness he found himself following the path of the infection. Tyleril was right, it had already spread. He found himself leaning closer, fingers closing into a fist. Slowly they began moving, one above the other as if drawing a length of rope from a well. He could feel the rot and death as he pulled it from the boy.

Tyleril made a sharp gesture as he shook his hands. It wasn't needed to summon the light but he liked the habit. He couldn't see the infection like Lyrenn but he could hear the whispers from his halo. But the Light urged what Tyleril already knew. Be patient. Watch. Wait. Wordless, unspoken, but something he heard in every fiber of his being. Lyrenn's lips moved at Tyleril's gentle suggestion, soundless whispers to Malorne, his patron, and, surprisingly, to Elune, his patron's supposed lover. The hazy lines of light and dark faded in and out in his mind's eye.  It was vague but it was enough, an impression in place that brightened the more he called for help. Slowly the infection receded, the dark haze falling back toward the wound and away. And in. Cold crept up the blond's hands and down his arms. Pins and needles dragged through his veins and the edges of his vision faded to red. It took a moment for the druidling to recognize what was happening, but he stubbornly pushed through until the he could stand no more. Lyrenn coughed, pulling away abruptly to bend over hands and knees behind Tyleril and gag. He coughed and choked a dark viscous liquid onto the floor between his hands. The wound was still red. Their patient was still cold and his eyes remained closed.  The purging may have been successful but the elf was not out of danger.

"Don't ever draw infection or rot into yourself." Tyleril told Lyrenn calmly. "S-save that for situations where there's no other option, if you can manage it." He reached for his mender's bag to grasp his tools in hand.  His voice was matter of fact as he worked. "What we have here is called a compound fracture. Compound fractures are when the bone has broke through s...s-skin and are exposed to open air." Carefully he cleaned around the wound dabbing at it with something that smelled strongly of lavender. "Surgery s-should have been performed within s-six hours of the fall and break. It is considered a serious injury that requires urgent care. What we'll need to do now is clean, numb it, and use surgery to mend it. Flesh and blood I do better than bone. But he'll still require rehabilitation and it'll be s-some time before he can get up and walk around." He placed his hands over the leg and holy Light sunk into flesh and bone to numb the leg as he worked. "Even with magic he'll be healing for months after. The time s-s-spent between the fall and until we got here will also increase the length of time for healing.”

Tyleril gave Lyrenn a half-smile. "Even with m-magic you'll find people expect miracles. Magic is not a miracle no matter how we might plead to the divine. If we are lucky the Divine will hear us and give us a miracle but it is rare and few in between. This young man will very likely never be able to enter military s-service now, even with our care."

Lyrenn's eyes fled to Tyleril, who had already turned away to begin working. He rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth and grimaced. Wordlessly he returned to where he'd been before, leaning over their patient and listening as Tyleril spoke. "Sorry," he rasped, but reached for antiseptic and gauze, eyeing the tools Tyleril had laid out so he could hand them over as requested. "So we'll straighten it back out and what? Let it heal on its own? Will it heal on its own?"

"S-some surgery to put things more right. Whatever healing I can spare after." He answered as he reached for the tools. "It will not cure all that is w-wrong with his leg but it will ensure there's less healing to do when we're gone, less therapy that he or his parents might not be able to afford." Tyleril glanced around the inside of the building they were in. "The downside to magical healing is how much it drains you- I can save people on the edge of death but I cannot do it all the time. Energy must be conserved 'lest I be constantly asleep all the time just to make it to my next patient."

Lyrenn nodded. His eyes flicked from Tyleril to their patient and back. He blinked several times, the smell burning his nose making his eyes water. Fingers slid out to find a pulse in the boy's wrist. "Should I try to start an iv?”

"A iv would work. The faster we get this done the better, getting him what he needs will help as well."

Lyrenn only nodded, digging around in the bag still slung over his chest. He'd only done this once or twice but he'd seen it done plenty. A thin cord was tied off just above the boy's elbow and the iv needle was pulled from its packaging. The cap was popped off and Lyrenn leaned down, aligning the needle with the biggest vein he saw. He waited for a pause in Tyleril's own work before sliding the needle in. A held breath was released when blood pooled into the small cath line attached to the iv. It was quick work after that to punch the fluid bag and connect it. He gave the bag a few good squeezes before hanging it from a nail on the wall above them.

Tyleril peered at his work. The scalpel reflected the dim light in the sickroom as he frowned at the bones. "Bones are harder to knit together but I can do that. Unfortunately he'll s-still need physical therapy down the road." Lyrenn slid fingers to the lad's neck, watching Tyleril work. "Better to need therapy than never walk again."

[varae-ver-you-are]

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“Dad, it’s butt’s o’clock in the morning and I have class in a few hours. Why are we here?” Arae whined and lowered his head onto the table, “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I-I thought you’d like pancakes and you sounded awake already.” 

“I was studying for class.”

“And your brain needs f-food, so what better place to come t-than here?” 

“Did you just get back from seeing Dad?” 

Tyleril’s eyes grew wide and he laughed, “W-What? What makes you say that?” 

“It’s 3 in the morning and we’re getting pancakes.”

[razxion]

Isle of Stars: Chapter 1: Silent night, deadly night.

If one were to sail North of Lorderon, or West of Silvermoon, far enough away the two lands could not be seen, lied an island full of all sorts of life.  First to be seen would be the Lighthouse, tall, slender and bright, warning of the rocky shores ahead.  Next would be the outlines of the island, the large city-like estate reached to the sky, with the telescope and spires easy to make out.  Further in one would have to navigate the rings of the island, a natural defense against siege by boats taken well advantage of.  The trees were tall along the edges of the islands, with brushes thick so one couldn’t see in.  Once passed the third ring the details could be seen: boats of all sizes lined up at the docks, magisters were unloading the cargo from the largest ships with care, and the only building on the island stood tall, and old.

One would have to pass the security put in place, in order to go into the main section of the building, or stay longer than the day.  It was nearly a fortress, tall and thick walls infused with arcane magics new and old.  A small canalway blocked entry by magic,allowing only those that knew the key to enter.  Elves lived here mostly, but they allowed any with good intent to stay and learn history.  Those of various professions were allowed to stay and learn as well, and they had their own areas to be: the tailors worked near the enchanters, and those were set near the library; alchemists were working alongside the herbalists, fishermen and cooks, each could help the other in their craft; the leather workers were placed between the two previous sections, as they could work with either; and across from the leather workers were the blacksmiths and engineers, jewelcrafters and miners, along with those that could wield and command flames.

There was an area too within the complex focused on religions and allowed all to come and share their beliefs, so long as there were no fights to be had, and each had specific times or days they were allowed to have a private time to pray and worship.  There was peace among all, and near the main gate were the stables, beasts of all kinds were kept here and taught about, anywhere from how to brush and breed them, to their diet and fighting capabilities.  This was an island of knowledge, with those of all walks of life allowed: paladins, priests, mages, druids, hunters, rogues, warriors, and even those a little darker in their magical tastes were, so long as they did not harm others and followed guidelines that were the dead stay dead and summoning was not permitted, nor were portals outside of the designated room.

This certain time of year was special, the heir’s children were coming of age to receieve their Stars, and their parents would govern the island until they would have children of their own that received Stars.  It was bustling and the two young men were running around, causing a little bit of chaos here and there as they chased one another through the working people, but never caused a mess.

Throughout the night, Alexander had wandered across the waters thinking.  He had gone back to Tyleril’s apartment to retrieve his armor, and then to the barracks for his weapon before departing.  The death knight’s frozen steps crackle and echo under the sheet of ice that seemed to move with him.  Coming up to an island that felt familiar, and once he stepped onto the land he could remember where he was.  Looking around he came upon a secret entrance he and his twin knew of and the memory began to play.  He followed it around the interior cautiously, as there were broken pieces of his home lying about, and the feel of danger in the air.  The memory was of him and Rai'thas, and wherever the two of them went, anyone else near that they interacted with appeared.  They seemed to stop in the smithing area, as both boys had interest in what went on there, and even had started to learn the trade.

A heavy clang sounds. A hammer striking the anvil and the sounds of a forge burning happen as Alexander steps into the smithinging area.  The light that comes from the smithy’s rotting doorway is pale and inviting. “-And then they just let you go right?” Tyleril’s voice was clear, devoid of it’s normal stutter and filled with good humour. “Like the Magister would just let you go? Ha!”

Alexander readies his spear, taking another look around before he gently pushes the door open.  Creaking from the old hinges, splintering of the wood that stuck as it had swelled, the door puts up quite a fight but doesn’t break.  He looks in, curiosity barely visible on the death knight’s face as he focuses on the man speaking.  He had seemed familiar.  The two boys were nearby, pushing one another with one being put into a headlock, whining and kept there as the other laughed.

There’s no reaction  as Alexander nearly breaks into the smithy. It was clear that nobody had been there in a long time. Everything was covered in dust and ashes. The roof threatened to break as  rain began to softly land atop it.  A ghostly image of Tyleril stands by the anvil, holding something.  "You two need to be careful- wouldn’t do for you to get burnt, eh?“ It was clearly a younger Tyleril. The clothing he wore had been out of style for decades easily and his hair was tied in a long braid that went to his rear.

The young Alexander laughs loudly, messing with his brother’s long hair as the young Rai'thas flails to try and get out of his grasp.  "We’ll be having something today!  I bet Rai’ll cry.”  "I will not!“ Pipes up the young Rai'thas, finally punching at his brother’s ass a few times before the young Alexander quits messing with his hair.   The death knight looks on and slowly remembers that day, looking over to the smith and it hits him just as the younger version of him speaks once more.  "You’ll come and watch, won’t you Mister Silversword?  The whole island’s invited.”

“You two are turning- nineteen? Twenty?” Tyleril lifts up the weapon he is working on. The ghostly echo waved  it in his hands. “How about I make you two a weapon since it’s such a special day for the two of you?” Raindrops slowly seep through the rooftop to land in the house, dripping and making puddles the echoes don’t notice.  The echo of Tyleril turns for Alexander to get a good look at  him- the blue and grey clothing he wore matched his blue eyes and wide grin.

“Twenty!” The boys say in unison, each with smiles from ear to ear, even if one was still in a headlock.  Alexander’s eyes widened, how could he have forgotten this part of that day?  They had met Tyleril!  The young Alexander spoke up first, “A sword!  I’d love a sword, Mister Silversword!”  Rai'thas not long after, “Me too!”  Rai'thas is pulled around a little, as his twin starts to try and turn them both around for fun.

The echo of Tyleril laughs, even when a piece of the ceiling groans and falls through the coloful echo. “You two are lucky there’s plenty of materials then! Go play with the practice swords and find a grip you like so I know what to do at the end, yes? I’ll get to work on this first one.”  He smiles at Alexander and walks towards the death knight.

Alexander instinctively moves out of the way for the echo of Tyleril, still wondering why he didn’t remember this but soon he would understand why.  The young Alexander starts to spin, with his brother in tow, letting the young Rai'thas go.  The young man stumbles backwards and into a steaming hot piece of metal, crying out in pain as he was burned on his side.  Alexander caused his brother harm, and that had wiped the memory of Tyleril out of his mind.

Tyleril turns. “Hey! Stop that!” The echo of Tyleril dropped the tools he held. The dust and mud beneath his feet didn’t stir as he ran to check Rai'thas. “Here, let me see. Let me see.” His voice is gentle and soothing.“

Alexander reached out, whatever was left of his heart aching as he saw what had happened, as the young version of himself backed up with tears in his eyes.  The young Rai'thas was crying, not very loud as he didn’t want his brother to call him a crybaby.

The echo fo Tyleril shushes Rai'thas, smoothing his hair down as he brings up a hand  that brightens with healing Light. He holds it over the burn. "It’s alright. Don’t worry- See? The Light is making it better and all you’ll have is a scar. That’s not so bad, right?” The color in Tyleril’s magical echo begins to leech away, fading to grey but the echo of him remains.  After a long minute the echo pauses and leans back to look directly at Alexander- not through him or to something else. Directly at him. “Alexander?” The echo whispers.

The young Rai'thas quiets down as he is healed, nodding all the while his young twin runs off to hide.  Alexander squints, looking behind him to see if the echo was speaking to the young version of him.  But once he realizes it was to the one here and now, his frosty eyes widen and his voice answers with an echo of his own.  "Yes?“  He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he’s already dead, what harm could come from this.

The echo of Tyleril smiled and hugged the young Rai'thas close. "You came back.” Although his smile seemed just as warm as  it was when he tended the echo something felt off as he continued to speak. “There’s a chest behind you- would you get the spare sword I made for you? I always wanted to make a second one but my boat…did I ever leave?”  Behind Alexander, left to rot in a corner was a chest that had rusted and sealed itself tight. The contents inside were likely still intact.

The death knight questioned what was going on, if the echo of his priestly friend was indeed talking to him.  Alexander looked behind him though, finding the chest the echo spoke of.  The young version of himself was hiding behind the chest, in tears.  He approached it, knocked on the chest with his boot and then knelt down to open it any way he possibly could.  The echo of his younger self was drawing his attention too, this was something he didn’t want to remember.

The echo’s voice is sweet and gentle to Alexander’s ears, washing away suspicion. “You might have to be a little bit harder on- yes, that’s it Alexander.” The  color leached echo of Tyleril smiles as Alexander found the spare sword Tyleril had forged decades ago that had been forgotten and left in a trunk. “That’s good Alexander- pick it up will you?” Carefully the color leached Echo rocks the young Rai'thas- he seemed to have fallen asleep. Something might feel wrong , a bit off but the color leached echo of Tyleril was friendly. He was just trying to help…right?

Alexander reached into the chest, slowly grabbing at the sword with his free hand as his younger self now dashed off into another room containing a hidden tunnel the boys new of.  Fingers gently gripped the handle and slowly removed it from it’s resting place.  He rose, standing tall as he looked at the forgotten weapon from a forgotten friendly face.  Why did this echo want him to have it?

The echo of Tyleril smiled and slowly rose up and the younger Rai'thas simply faded away.  As the echo walked its braid swayed with its movements. “Very good Alexander.” It holds its arms out and begins to apply its magical charm to override Alexander’s will. “Hold the sword tightly, right? Don’t want to drop it.”

Alexander’s grip on the sword slowly tightens as the echo spoke.  No, he didn’t want to drop it, it was something his friend made and forgot.  He wanted to return it to him.  Slowly the death knight’s frosty gaze moved to the echo of Tyleril, and the grip on his personal spear loosened.

Alexander is rewarded with an approving smile. “You know how to use the sword, right Alexander?” The echo clapped his hands. “I have a good idea.  You ’ll appreciate this.”

Alexander nodded slowly.  "What sort of idea do you have, Tyleril?“  He would do as the echo would ask, and follow him wherever.

"Kill me.” The Echo smiled warmly at him and held his arms out wide. The blue eyes still held warmth, the smile was still there- but something would linger that this wasn’t right. “And then you can kill yourself. It won’t hurt. Then we can go together. ”

Fingers, already touched by death once, tighten on the forgotten sword’s handle, and the spear clanked as it now hit the floor.  "Kill you, and then myself.  As you wish, Tyleril.“  Alexander slowly removed himself from the smithery and back off of the island, heading towards Silvermoon and the apartment of Tyleril Silversword.

Story written with @tyleril-silversword as part of a longer story to introduce my twins, Alexander Bloodshield and Rai’thas Starshield’s home island. @thesunguardmg

[thanidiel]

14, 38, 40!

14. What do they care deeply about? What kind of loyalties, commitments, moral codes, life philosophies, passions, callings, or spirituality and faith do they have? How do these tend to be expressed? 

I touch a lot on how Thanidiel’s utmost dedication and loyalties that comprise her character is to the Thalassian State. I’d call this a faucet/expression of her commitment as a Protector to others.

Thanidiel is a hell of a shit person, but let it not be said she would not do anything she could to protect/take negative consequences for others if there is any connection or social obligation felt on the matter. 

38. Is there anything they wish they could change about their worldview or thought processes? What, and why? 

While Thanidiel is more than aware of her flaws as a person (Her abrasiveness, brutality, coldness, tendency to dwell on history and social spites), she is honestly too apathetic to care. 

She’s doing what she wants to do with her life (or at least feels like that is what she wants to do) and there is no reason for her to regret herself when she doesn’t exactly give a damn about who or what she hurts along the way for the most part; collateral is to be avoided but if it happens, it happens, because her way is the right way.

40. What do they wonder about? What sparks their curiosity and imagination, and why? How is this expressed, if it is?

For Xerevies; what intrigues her the most is the mysticisms of the Twisting Nether and what lies within. A good amount of her life outside of academia and other magical pursuits has been spent exploring the Nether - connecting to other planes, making her own pocket dimensions to ‘safely’ play with the Nether’s law, other planets, etc..

She is a ‘worldly’ adventurer in the most out-of-touch sense of the word. 

@tyleril-silversword ty!

[felthier]

Happy Birthday! I hope you have a great day.

Thank you!!

[kai-2124]

*smooshes face* You are the cutest.

No u

[brothersemberfell]

The Sunguard Legionfall Finale, Battle in the Dawnspire Recap of the Event

A long, commissioned project in the making, but it’s here. The epic Legionfall closing event was incredibly fun to illustrate, as well as fondly remembered. With @felthier ’s request, I snuck in some surprise cameos where I had room/composition to do so.  @thesunguardmg

Pictured Characters: Tyril Sunspear having become Alazar, the Burning Heart of Belore, Tyleril Silversword, Koramm Stonehoof, Doom Lord Baal, Thinariel Farmight,  Ethalarian Dawnstalker, Telchis Truefeather, Muroco Rockhoof, Ithranicus Remar, Veleth Ashcaster, Jonathan McCallun, Prime Consort Kala, Felo’thore & Adrianal Novastorm, Avada Emberfall

[ladystillheart]

WoW Combat Follower Meme : Lady Juliette Stillheart

How your character acts as a follower in-game!

Selection: “Me? Really? Alright, I won’t let you down!”

Class: Mage

Weapons: Spellblade’s sword “Serenity,” spellbook

AI Behavior: Juliette is a DPS-caster type and follows as such. She works quickly to freeze the player’s opponents and will sometimes provide an Ice Barrier shield as well as a Haste buff.

Battle Lines:

“Even the smallest droplet may cause a ripple.” - Summon Water Elemental, Gully.

“Let’s show them what we’re made of!” - Aggro.

“I think you need to CHILL out! Ahhh ha.. Sorry.” - Frost Damage.

“The leylines run through my blood, and their power will spill yours! Shala’ros!” - Arcane Damage.

“Going to need some REAL good salve for that one..” - Fire Damage.

“By my blade, may your soul find peace.” - Melee Damage.

Cooldowns:

“I will not watch another fall, ullaman takan!!!” - Ice Barrier Shield

“Your time is up!” - Time Warp

KO’d:

“But I had.. So many stories.. To tell..”

“For the Glades...”

“Father? Is that.. You?”

Resurrected:

“Stiff upper lip, friend. I know we’ll get them this time!”

“I knew my story was not finished yet. I still have a happy ending to find!”

“Hm? What? Oh, sorry.. Must’ve been daydreaming again.”

Stole it from Tagged by: @tyleril-silversword  and @anierous-sunblade

Tagging: anyone who would like to!

[ammatice]

commission from @tyleril-silversword to @shampoocommercialelves