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the-fortyseventh · 3 years

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After Action Report - Operation Fallen Eagle

AFTER ACTION REPORT - OPERATION FALLEN EAGLE

23 April 628

All intelligence having been coordinated with the Ebon Blade, the time of their attempted infiltration of Torghast in order to rescue AEF VIP’s was coordinated with the Council of Harvester’s assault on Castle Nathria.

Elements of the AEF joined the Council’s assault with the specific job of either securing or destroying the enemy’s anima stores in their entirety. Given the disruption to their supply chain caused by both the AEF raid on the Halls of Atonement and the AEF occupation of Darkhaven, the loss of their stored anima was judged to be an optimal target.

It should be noted that planning for this operation was made possible by PVT Davenport, who managed to secure the anima-storage details regarding our AOP during our initial seizure of OP Darkhaven.

The AEF entered Castle Nathria and, after eliminating a small guard force, proceeded to the anima storage area.

Outside the entrance to the anima storage area, SGM Brightmaul halted the column and searched the doorway. This proved to be fruitful, as he discovered that the doorway had been rigged with a quick-release mechanism to deploy the portcullis. He also discovered that the enemy had copied KNT Farnal’s warding design, presumably as a method of blocking Azerothian-style portals in addition to anima-based ones. MSG Goldmane disabled the booby trap on the door, and I altered the wards in order to seize control of them, effectively operating the enemy’s efforts against them. The AEF then proceeded into the anima storage area, at which point they were confronted by enemy forces in the form of three venthyr who appear to have used local anima reserves as a force-multiplier.

Those venthyr attempted to mirror-teleport an unknown force in to assist their assault. However, due to SGM Brightmaul’s planning, they were unable to do so, and their failure to do so combined with Goldmane’s securing of our exit left the enemy venthyr without reinforcement, effectively counter-ambushing their ambush.

During the combat, it was discovered that Puckmuck, our liaison from the Council, was in fact a spy as he’d claimed. However, more specifically, he was a spy for Denathrian forces, which explains many of the recent occurrences and security lapses, as well as the ambush into which we would almost surely have walked but for SGM Brightmaul’s keen eyes.

CDR Felmourne ensured that Puckmuck would cease to represent a security threat using direct methods that hardly need be belabored.[1:47 PM]AEF Forces prevailed easily in their counter-ambush, securing the anima storage area. Explosives were affixed to all anima storage devices by CDR Felmourne, taking advantage of his ability to do so aerially. At this point, a decision had to be made.

All available intel at the moment indicated that Denathrian forces had, in fact, been prepared to ambush our assault. Given Puckmuck’s status, I assumed that Denathrian forces had been alerted not simply to our goals, but also to the Council’s assault as a whole. Given the attempt to portal, I also assumed that a significant Denathrian force was on its way via more conventional means to challenge us, leaving us with a minimal-time window.

The Council of Harvesters had previously expressed to the AEF its desire to seize the anima storage containers intact. It may be that this was possible—I am unsure. However, it is also possible, given the information available to me, that a massive counterassault was imminent and that Council reinforcements would not be forthcoming, having been ambushed similarly to the one planned for us.

As a result, on my own authority, I determined to destroy the anima reserves rather than attempt to preserve them, and to evacuate the AEF to Oribos rather than face the counterattack. This action fulfilled all AEF mission goals completely—but may have left the Council of Harvesters less than enthusiastic about further cooperation with the AEF. On the other hand, risking AEF lives for the purpose of possibly improving diplomatic relations with the Council on the off-chance that they prevailed against their ambush seemed, in the calculus of death, to be inadvisable. Responsibility for this decision is entirely mine, and I am prepared to answer for it. I will reach out to the Council in the coming week to attempt to repair at least some of the diplomatic damage, though I do not know how successful I will be. Revendreth, like Maldraxxus, should NOT be considered a safe zone for AEF troops off-duty. Off-duty troops seeking leisure shall restrict themselves to Bastion or Ardenweald, which has previously been secured by Horde AEF members.

We await reports from the Ebon Blade as to the success or failure of our primary mission.

KNT Tobias Farnal Platoon Leader, 1A1 47th Infantry Regiment

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analyse-bloodwing · 3 years

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Finality

Click.

The latch snapped into place with a finality that made her wince, soft features twisting with the motion and lips pulling back to reveal her teeth. Yet the irony was not lost on the woman as she gazed about the Manor that for so long had been her home.

No, it was not lost on her at all.

Exhaling gently, she stepped back from the trunk and with a nod to the men she had hired to help her, they strode forward to pick it up with grunts. It was the last of her painting supplies, her brushes, the canvases that she had yet to bring to life with color, and then her easel. Easily folded, compartmentalized, just as she had done with everything else of the life she was leaving behind.

Analyse Blood -- no, Emberbloom -- moved across the room easily towards the double paned windows of the upstairs to peer outside across the grounds. Lyra and the younger wolf pup had already been moved from the stables where now only Sori'thas' Hawkstriders remained. The Greenhouse had been emptied of its contents weeks ago as she had slowly and painstakingly prepared the plants for the move.

It had taken her multiple trips, lengthy hours, and back aching devotion to move them singularly and make sure they survived the move from the top of the line greenhouse to their new home in the quaint hand made greenhouse at her new residence. Some had been hearty, surviving and thriving in their new environ. Others... others had not. Either they had been unable to be moved without them dying, or, they had been able to and had simply not taken to the new soil, to the different locale, and they had perished, wilting, and slowly fading away into nothing more than crinkled leaves, flakey and brittle.

Much like their marriage.

Biting at her lip as she stared down at the sprawling grounds, the Sin'dorei shut her eyes to it. This would no longer be the view that tingled her senses, sparked her motivation. No. She would no longer find inspiration in sunsets or the stars from here.

There was so much to be said about what had happened between the two of them -- the distance that had grown as one had grown restless and the other had flourished. When Sori'thas had chosen to move from an active military life to one of politics, Analyse had not thought anything of it. Just as she had not thought it would be that difficult to transition from serving on the front lines to serving as a trainer for the incoming Blood Knights, but yet...

The idea had first come to mind when her husband -- ex-husband -- had mentioned growing tired of risking limb and life, that he wanted to settle. He felt there was more that he could do than what he was accomplishing within the ranks of a squadron, and she had agreed with him. He had a way with words, an energy about himself that drew people in when he believed so fiercely in something, and so she had supported the decision. Whole-heartedly. But they would have been separated for weeks at a time if not months, and so she had deliberated.

It had seemed perfect.

Politics for him and training for her - well, guiding the young ones was the more proper way of putting it, she supposed. Yet it hadn't been perfect. Just because it had made sense in her mind didn't mean that it had worked that way in reality.

What Analyse had failed to take into consideration was emotions and the motivation behind why she did what she did.

She had always been the type of Sin'dorei that strove to be better than the day before. A challenge was presented and she sought to conquer it, to climb to a height that no one believed she would be capable of reaching. Being in Silvermoon proper, guiding the Initiates and the Adepts that had come to her for tutelage -- it wasn't the same. Instead, she was the guiding force behind them seeking to reach new and grander heights, but she herself was stagnant.

Her pond had grown stagnant and covered in a fine layer of mildew, and she was ready to shed it, to carve herself a tributary from which she might escape by.

Another exhale, a soft breath that fogged over the window, and then she leaned forward to rest her forehead against the pane.

Yes, there was a finality to it, but it was a finality that was needed.

The restlessness had spurred her to recklessness and the recklessness had led her down a road that was dark and twisted. One in which he could not follow and she did not allow him to nor invite him to. She had sought something to make her feel alive and at the end of the trail, it had not been something she had found, but someone.

Melo'sondre. Fiery and fierce, blunt and sarcastic, but encompassed in a haughty exterior of glaring eyes and petulant lips, there had been a heart of warmth and an embrace warmer still. A challenge coated in dripping sarcastic and a brutalistic realism that had painted the world in harsher colors than what Analyse had been able to see prior. Her presence had become regular during her days, and it had led to evenings spent with a wine bottle by a river. But those wine bottles had led to mistakes, and those mistakes had led her further down the twisting path.

She closed her eyes to the grounds below her, and the Blood Knight turned from the window with a snarl at the memories that still waltzed across the back of her eyelids and through her mind's eye with no consideration for her feelings. They stung, even now, months later, a year later, they still hurt.

As much as it had hurt to see his eyes when he'd caught them.

There had been no coming back from that. They had tried, oh, they had tried. She had stayed in a separate room from him, and they had talked, but the talking led to accusations, and the accusations led to yelling and the yelling had led to them leaving, one in tears and the other in anger, but both hurt and torn. It had gone on for months, a neverending struggle to try and bring themselves back to where they once were, to learn to forgive, but not to forget, to learn to love one another again. But it was hard to forgive, hard to forget, hard to love, when there was no trust to be had between the two of them.

It had been two months ago that they had been sitting at the dinner table, each with their attention focused on their plates, and a pregnant, tension filled silence had stretched between the pair. Forks had scraped against porcelain, the noise grating to Analyse's ears and causing them to shudder each time the twines had struck the green caste plateware. Finally, as she had pushed bits of potato to the edge, the silence was broken.

"Why are we doing this?"

It had not been her who had spoken, but him. He who had taken her back when she was pleading, begging, crying, a sorry state for the proud woman to have been reduced to. He who had said that they could overcome this, that they would make it through together, and she who had agreed willingly. He who had once smiled at her so gently, who's eyes had shown with love, but now glowed dully whenever he laid them on her. There was a permanent etch to the center of his forehead - and it was a twist of the knife in her gut every time she spotted it, for it was something that had only appeared after.

Raising her head, her face was blank, features carved in placid neutrality, and there was no quiver to her voice, no emotion, there was no rawness as that had long since cauterized itself shut. "I have no idea."

It had been the opening they needed though, and when they had sat down to speak in his office, for once, there had been no yelling. There had been no tears. There had been pain, but it was a pain that came from realizing that this door was struggling to shut only because they stood in the way. The midnight hour had long since come and gone by the time they had bade one another good night, but they were both lighter for it - for the first time in moons, there had been a light, a smidgeon of hope, a chance.

He had allowed her the time she needed to make arrangements. It had been a trial, finding an ample amount of land for several greenhouses and a modest home, and for the right price. Analyse only had what she had saved to spend, meager wages, and no help otherwise. She had refused to take any of the Bloodwing money as that would be the last thing she left him to remember her by.

No, she had needed to do this on her own -- and she had.

Blowing out a long breath, she steeled her shoulders, pitching them back and raising her chin. It was with purposeful strides that she had moved to the door of her former bedroom, gripping the handle and stepping into the hallway. Only once did she look back, her eyes roving the room that had been her sanctuary for five long years, and then they fell to the letter inscribed with her ex-husband's name upon the envelope. It stood out in stark contrast to the reds and golds of the room, the pristine white of it bold against the crimson background of the chair it sat upon.

With a final squeezing ache of her heart, she turned her back and released the door, moving down the hallway and towards the exit. The echo of her footsteps faded long before the slamming of the door as a chapter closed in both of their lives, and a new one opened.

#rp #worldofwarcraft #wyrmrestaccord #sindorei #analyseemberbloom #sorithasbloodwing #endings #goodbye

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singingaurora · 3 years

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— A Light in the Dark —

No one noticed how the candlelit chandelier above them banished a few more shadows— but they would certainly notice how it dimmed later that night. The underground tavern was, quite literally, underground (and underwater). Accessed through an access shaft to a long forgotten tram stop, the speakeasy was popular among those who weren’t inclined to do business in the eyes of the Alliance nor the Horde. And, while a place of neutrality, it wasn’t exactly known for any charitable nature.

Enchanted instruments played a tune only loud enough to mask private conversations. The tables almost all taken by a variety of people who all seemed to be permanent fixtures. The bar was serviced by a chatty gnome who managed to pull conversation from those who preferred occupied corners. Though, even he fell silent at the arrival of an unexpected guest. On stage, an unused bell chimed once with life. The rest of the instruments quieted alongside the entirety of the conversation.

Descending the spiral stairwell, a white cloak rippled like the memories of waves upon a beach against the carpet. Silence encompassed the shimmering figure in an otherwise dull environment. An aurora of dawn danced through dainty fingers to an unheard tempo. When a wrapped foot finally found the floorboards of the establishment, the feminine figure glanced towards the stage and flourished a hand. Once more, the instruments took over.

Alas, none of the conversation started back up. Some of the half-hidden expressions were more curious than others. Yet, they were a rarity amongst the paranoia. One of the men at the bar reached for a gun only for the gnome to set a hand upon his and quickly shake his head. The roguish figure clenched his hand away from the grip. His frown only deepened when he saw how coral pink lips curled upwards in response to his plight.

“The Singing Aurora has graced our little crack in the wall with her presence. Let us make. . . the best of this blessed visit, shall we?”

The gnome’s voice carried just enough to catch the attention of all present. He swallowed thickly and jumped down from the raised platform behind the bar. He rounded his way out and quickly made his way over to Isilliya. A bow was offered before he gestured towards the back room— a space lit by skylight and lantern both. The elf laced her fingers together and weaved around tables and through the stone archway that took her out of the main room.

Once beyond the sight of most, Isilliya lowered the cowl from atop her head. She twisted and gracefully lowered herself into the lounge chair. Foot rose to rest against the lip of the table while the gnomish barkeep rushed around the space to prepare a beverage that glowed faintly with the light of sunrise. He offered it to her upon a gold coated plate; it was accepted calmly. He appeared a little relieved and backed up a few steps.

“Shall I get the boss?”

“The façade won’t be necessary.”

Immediately the gnome’s expression fell. Isilliya took that moment to raise the glass to her lips and take a sip from the sugary concoction. The barkeep worked his jaw a moment and then rushed from the space. When he returned, he closed the curtain behind him and made his way to the couches. Arms crossed as he hopped up and sat down. Once cheery expression was banished for a look Isilliya hadn’t needed empathy for.

“One with your reputation often sends someone to do their work for them. Where are your guards?”

“If you know my reputation then you know I have no need for guards nor others to do my work for me.”

“What do you want?”

“Interesting, I wasn’t under the impression the Crystalcog Cartel was in the business of wasting time.”

Another sip of her beverage was taken as the gnome stewed in his spot. Several seconds passed before his eyes rolled and he looked to the ocean floor above him. He stared beyond the blue towards unseen heavens, and for a second, Isilliya’s brows rose with surprise he may even consider a prayer. Eventually, his attention fell flat back to her and he allowed a breath to be released from his nose. He slid from the couch’s edge and knocked against the wooden table.

“I will need a moment to retrieve it, then.”

“As you take that moment, Xanhik, do remember that I am a much better friend.”

Her ears twitched as he mumbled, ‘Damn Empaths,’ before departing out the curtain once more. The beverage was polished off before the glass was slid to the center point of the table. With a roll of her wrist, and an idle hum, the aurora weaving around her palm turned more brilliant until it formed a sharpened shard of pure light. She hovered it there with an almost transfixed look upon her expression. Her interest in the weaponized magic broke when the gnome entered with a box carved from pyrite.

“Before you ask,” Xanhik began, setting the box carefully on the table, “I don’t got the tablet. I sent a couple men out looking for it. Only one came back and he didn’t really come back— if you know what I mean. So I ain’t sending anymore men to go get it. You want it? You get it.”

“Did you solve the problem with your wayward hire?”

“No,” his voice became more solemn, much of his irritation dying. “He’s my son.”

Isilliya’s lips twisted but her thoughts were kept to herself. Quietly, she reached out and gathered the pyrite chest. The latch was swiped with her thumb and she carefully opened the lid. Within was an ankh carved from glass; its loop had rays of sunlight and the glass seemed faintly tinted when it caught the candlelight. The lid was closed and the chest was placed into her satchel. A single bar of monelite was placed onto the table in trade as Isilliya stood.

“Take me to your son.”

header artwork by Jazz Pepper Club

story drabble, a glimpse into character hooks

#The Singing Aurora #// ooc:#Story Drabble #world of warcraft #wyrmrest accord #moonguard #moon guard #wyrmrestaccord #wowrp #wow rp #warcraft shorts #original content

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konietzko-sylvoran · 2 years

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Introducing ~ Hearts of Tenacity Fest ♥

Introducing Hearts of Tenacity Fest!

♥ Please Save the Date ♥ A special faction neutral two day event for ANY rp server Saturday May 28th - Sunday May 29th

Featuring a full lineup of Performances at Tenacity Isle with Food and Drink Caterers including special guest stars to light up your night! Followed by a second evening of Storytelling at Heart and Hearth Enclave where Talthorn will start us off with a magical show of story weaving and all guests are encouraged to share their own! Do you think you have what it takes to be a storyteller? Maybe you've never tried but have always wanted too in a place where you would be welcome and fear or worry free of starting out? Maybe you're a natural at this and have just been looking for a fire to weave your tales and open hearts and ears to hear them? If this sounds at all like you then we'd love to welcome you to come tell your tales as we travel with you to far away lands within our minds.

And what would a festival be without giveaways and raffle prizes to take away? Expect Artwork and more to be given away just for attending. We'll have fun ways that you can enter the drawing!

Anchors, Maps, Details and Signups are all coming soon and will be found in our official Discord so be sure to join it if you are interested in attending this event!

♥ We look forward to sharing our festival with any heart who dares to dream! ♥

Join our Discord here -----> https://discord.gg/eZZJrEdshs @wracentral @the-royal-courier @moonguardevents @wowrpevents

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automaticenemycrusade · 3 years

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Joyride: Prologue

“Nord!”

The onyx vulpera awoke with a gasp, soft as it could be, as he jerked his head up from the shabby, little table. Oh, had he fallen asleep at his desk again? No doubt he’d be dying the day he actually decided to sleep in his own bed. He glanced down to regard the mess he’d made, only to notice the goopy, black ink that had splattered across both himself and the parchment he was supposedly scrawling on. Fur and ink, what an exciting mixture. Dunes know he’d be having the time of his life washing that out.

He barely had time to make himself presentable before another vulpera emerged from underneath the flap of his tent, the one who had called his name. To neither his nor anyone’s surprise, it was his relative, a cousin whose only mission in life was to bother the former with his “brilliant” ideas. Nord acknowledged his presence as best he could, before swiping a rag off the table and wiping at his sullied pelt. It wasn’t coming out.

“Nord, hey,” The swagger in his step, the giddiness in his features, the passion brimming at his cheeks, warped and stretched to either side by that smile. That damn smile. Nord knew those motions all too well. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you, ‘cause I think,” Here it comes. “And stop me if you’ve heard this one before,” Despite the urge to, Nord smiled encouragingly, as if to say ‘do go on,’ to which his counterpart was happy to oblige. “‘cause I think I got it!”

And there it was. The poor fox had to resist rolling his eyes into the back of his head and groaning, which he did with ease. He had the practice after all. “Yeah?” He replied, lifting his brow. “And what is the ingenious plan you’ve cooked up this time, Jole?” Wry smirk in hand--or on face, technically speaking--he raised a single digit as he continued, “Are we convincing the guards to personally escort us to the oasis by pretending to be, what was it?” He tapped his chin in sarcastic thought, before lighting up his face in a similarly sarcastic realization. “The Dune Duke?”

The other vulpera, Jole, was taken aback by an eyeroll of his own, as well as a derisive series of hardy har har’s. “Before you mock me,” He began. “Just hear me out,” Nord complied, allowing him to continue, “Hot take: we get a wagon, a few alpacas, and we take everyone who wants it on the adventure of their lives.” That showman’s finesse of his really shined through in moments like this. Nord supposed one had to build some sort of charismatic skill set when they came up with bizarre schemes as often as Jole did, which is to say, he was irritably used to this. Nonetheless, he went on, “Day-long trip, from here to there, let the kits see the sights and get a taste of that authentic caravaneer life. Hundred-percent educational experience, no foul play.” He bent forward in a semi-bow, spreading his arms to either side with a final, “Whaddya think?”

“Well, first off, I think you’re insane.” He responded, oddly calm in tone for how witty his remark had been. They shared a chuckle, though Nord was quick to recover. “So, what? Are we bribing some,” He vaguely waved his hand. “Famous caravaneer to be our guide? For celebrity appeal?” Jole shook his head, though he did gesture for Nord to keep guessing. He was, no doubt, delightfully entertained. Nord obeyed. “Will the alpacas be incredibly rare? One has extravagant colors, maybe? Hot pink?”

Jole produced a drawn-out, “Noooooope.” in reply. He was having fun with this, and Nord couldn’t help but roll back his eyes at that. For what felt like the first time, he was actually intrigued by the prospect, even if it was probably extraordinarily dangerous. Of course, he’d had this mentality about Jole’s ingenuity dozens of times before, but there was always one tiny complication or flaw in the grand scheme that ruined it for him. Suffice to say, he wasn’t making any special exceptions nor holding his breath for this one.

The onyx vulpera finally relented, leaning back onto his palms with a shrug--his palms still stained by the ink, obviously. “What is it then?” He said, boggled, despite having never guessed it on the first try before. “What’s the outside help?”

Jole grinned that cocky grin of his and arched forward, “There is none,” He lifted up his hands to dramatically waggle his fingers. “‘cause we do it ourselves. You and me,”

“You and I.” Nord corrected.

“You and I. Not even! Mostly me.” The ash-furred vulpera winked--sweet sand demons, he hated those--before straightening out his posture, because you just know all that bending and curving he did for his showy presentations was taking its toll on his spine. Nord didn’t think it possible for his eyes to go any further into the back of his head, yet here he was, on the verge of an eyeball backflip. Although, Jole’s performances aside, the idea itself was interest-piquing. It’s the kind of thing he would have enjoyed as a kit. It’s the kind of thing he could still enjoy now. But, as with all of Jole’s ploys, they were too selfish to be fully realized. His cousin was never one to scheme if he didn’t think it benefitted him too.

“Let me guess,” Nord’s eyes glinted with familiarity, as he went to meet his counterpart’s gaze with knitted brows. “First people you invite are the vixens you talked up at the story circle,” He lifted a finger just as Jole went to interject. “The same story circle where you regaled the tale of The Dune Duke and his Dusty Damsel.” He, too, grinned a malicious grin, snark and snide practically enchanting his demeanor in that moment. This is what made listening to Jole’s rambling so very worth it. Still, he couldn’t help but feign shame and aim a friendly punch at his shoulder, tacking on a, “I’m kidding.”

“You laugh now, but just you wait until I get things in full gear.” Jole assured, and as per any accusation that involved him and women, he felt pressed to address it. “And for one, those ladies were delighted to have me; for two, that story was great,” And in an attempt to mimic his cousin, he raised a finger to Nord’s face before he could interrupt. “And you can’t deny it, ‘cause everyone else thought it was great too!”

“I dunno.” The curve of Nord’s lip twirled into a sly smirk. “I personally thought the ending could’ve been a little better. Plus, aren’t stories at the story circle supposed to be true?”

“It was true!” He retorted, though he quickly remedied his behavior once faced with a skeptical look from Nord. He folded his arms and paused. “Some of it, anyway- Look, that’s not the point. Point is, we got things to do!”

“Not people, I hope.”

“Doh,” And at last, Nord squeezed an eyeroll out of him, so much so that he couldn’t help but grin. “Alright, inkface,” Wait, was it on his face? He went to uncomfortably feel at it as Jole continued, “--Yeah, don’t think I didn’t notice that little detail when I rolled in here. Tell you what, you go wash up and I’ll do all the hard work, ‘cause I’m a generous and hard-working friend.”

Nord’s own laughter knocked the wind out of him. He replied, “You haven’t worked a day in your life.” just as Jole vanished back outside, to which he could hear a guffaw radiate from beyond his tent flap.

“It’s about persistence, not work ethic!”

The onyx vulpera scoffed, obviously, and although he wished to push the topic further, he decided against it. He turned back to that filthy desk of his, glancing at it with disdain, the disdain one got when they told themselves to do a chore. As if washing himself up wouldn’t take long enough! Note to Nord: sleep in your damn bed.

And then it donned on him, and he promptly dove his head past the tent flap in search of his cousin, which, praise be, there he stood, hands shoved in his pouch-pockets and eyes gliding from vixen to vixen. He’d slap himself in the face if he wasn’t preoccupied with another thought. “Jole!” He called out, to which the oblivious ashfur perked up an ear and spun on his heels to look back at Nord. “How do you plan on dealing with the older vulpera? That might be uncomfortable.”

“That’s the best part!” He shouted back.

“No supervision!”

♦

Nord had spent far too many minutes scrubbing away at his paw, far too many hours. Had it even been an hour? He hadn’t cared to check how high the sun rose above the horizon, and who knows when he originally woke up. At this point, he could barely remember the night before at all. Though, knowing him, it might be better to say, “the early morning before.” What was it he was biding all that time with? Funnily enough, that was exactly the problem. It was the very fact he had nothing to bide his time with. With each sunrise came the same routine, the same chores, the same hunts, the same necessities for survival. Had he grown so stale that he was finally giving into Jole’s senseless thrillseeking ways? Was there a part of him that wished that one of his cousin’s ploys would actually come to pass?

He wasn’t sure.

What he was sure of though, was that this damn ink, wasn’t coming out. Even with the addition of lukewarm water, it insisted on sticking to him. What was that ink made out of anyway? Tar? He needed a break, he needed a getaway, he needed something to sweep him off his mundane feet and wrap him in the exoticity of life. He needed an adventure. But, every time they got close, Jole lost motivation, or found something better to do, or abandoned the project all together out of spite.

Maybe this time, it’d be different. Just maybe.

Not that he was getting his hopes up, of course. Last thing he needed was to put effort into something and have it fail miserably, but hey, he was a hopeful guy. His birthright was that of faith he could misplace at his leisure, not that he was in any hurry. If anything, he was in more of a hurry to get this stain off. How much force did he have to apply? There’s only so much pressure a fifteen-year-old kid can exude!

“Nord!”

Fuck it. Just wrap it, wrap it up, no one will know. And that’s just what he did. He tore a strip of leather off of his own trousers and laced it around the still (somehow) ink-soaked hand. You burned yourself. That’s the story we’re going with. At last, he ushered himself outside, seeing none other than Jole standing… about a yard or two away from him. A cough was exchanged between the two as he moved an inch or two closer. His flair for the dramatic was a gamble as to whether or not it would be properly executed.

“So!” The ashfur began, clicking his tongue.

Nord, meanwhile, calculated all the excuses that were about to leave his cousin’s mouth. They were out of wagons. They want to keep the alpacas out of the deep desert for a few months. I had a wagon, but the wheel snapped when I tried moving it. I had an alpaca, but they fell ill just today. Everyone I asked said no. I kinda had a change of heart. I got an even better idea! I thought you hated the idea, so I got discouraged. I was sure you meant-

“We’re back in business, baby!”

#irromemoirs #wowrp #wyrmrestaccordrp #wyrmrestaccord #world of warcraft #warcraft rp #wra #warcraft oc #roleplayblog #vulpera #vulperarp #world of warcraft rp

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catisawells · 4 years

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Spelunking

Chatter filled the bustling streets of the small town of Lakeshire while she waited out by the docks for her new friend. She stood with crimson robes wrapped about her person. A light breeze rolled through and pulled at raven locks indicative of the seasons changing, her satchel by her side and a smile upon her soft features.

Snowyn joined her new found peer, Catisa shortly armed as well as any mage should be on a rescue mission. Snowyn knew all too well what could go wrong and so equipped herself proper – her twisted birch wand at her side, her banged up staff with a sand-worn stone at the top, and a small dagger – just in case. She wasn’t going to risk either of them getting injured and wanted to make sure she was ready. The red-headed mage bounded over to Catisa, heavy, purposeful steps echoing on the wooden dock. “Thank you for waiting, Miss Wells! I do hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. Had to make sure we’re ready for this venture,” she said waving her hand about and producing a pointed, worn-out blue hat that matched her blue worn out robes. She popped it on her head, but it did little to tame all the wild curls on her crown.

A giggle escaped Catisa as she grinned to her colleague, "I wasn't waiting long! It's good to see you again, Miss Silverfield, though I wish it were under better circumstances than a search party." She patted her hip, gesturing toward her satchel from before with the endless bottom much like her own. "I brought along some supplies that might help, and if we need it literal breadcrumbs, just in case!" She gave Snowyne an awkward thumbs up, "Shall we head that way?"

“Breadcrumbs,” Snowyn replied, “A perfect idea, Miss Wells. Wasn’t thinking that far ahead. Hopefully nothing eats them, otherwise we’ll be stuck in there as well!” she snickered. Snowyn unhooked her wand from her hip and gave it a gentle blow; the stone at the tip lighting up in a soft, blue light. She drew in a deep breath and nodded, “Let us find Mister Reeve and Miss Twistphase. I just hope we’re not too late…” Snowyn trailed off and lead the way to the tunnel entrance, just beyond the edge of Lakeshire.

"Yes, lets!" Catisa corralled with her new friend and colleague and trotted off with her toward the entrance. The walk was short, though pleasant, with the birds chirping and cool breeze wafting through. After a time she pointed to a fold in the mountain beside them and shouted, "There!" As they crested the hill the cavern entrance fell into view before them, the arcane guardians posted out front motionless as statues.

Snowyn approached the entrance, looking at both of the arcane guardians. She looked them over, her right brow cocked into place as she began investigating them and inspecting them for any flaws. Seeing no such errors, she shrugged, “They seem perfectly fine. No one has tampered with them or put any spells on them to get past their defenses,” she hummed in thought, “I guess we’ll find our answers inside I suppose!” she said cheerfully, pointing her illuminated wand into the darkness of the tunnels. Torches were spaced out evenly along the tunnel walls, but even they weren’t bright enough to see much in there.

Catisa tapped her chin with a forefinger in thought, "I don't know much about them in particular, but they look fine to me too!" She shrugged and looked around before she stepped forward and waved a hand around in an intricate pattern, "It looks as though the wards weren't tampered with either, at least in this area." With a wave she summoned Snowyn to her, "Come on! Let's stick together, just in case." She smiled at her companion for the journey and started to lead their way into the caverns.

Just as Snowyn was about to take out a magnifying glass and investigate the guardians further, she was instantly teleported over to Catisa. The mage stood there for a second, blinking a few times and trying to gain her bearing before following Catisa into the caverns. She held out her wand, the blue light emitting from the tip lighting their way. The mage scanned the area, her green eyes darting from one thing or another; she didn't want to miss any clues or creatures that would come out of nowhere and chase after them!

Soft footsteps padded carefully down the cavern, brown eyes alert as she examined each rune and ward they passed. Farther and farther in, the tunnel seemed endless until at last they reached a fork in their path. Both seemed safe enough, all that remained was to find out which way they should go in their search. "Which way do you think goes to the market?" Catisa inquired as she reached into her bag and began to dig around for something. There didn't seem to be any clear indicators of which way they should take, simply the same repetitive patterns along the cavern walls where the runes were inscribed.

Snowyn shook her head, "Your guess is as good as mine, Miss Wells - I've only been escorted through here once and the arcane guardians are the ones that walked me through," she pointed her fingers at each path, "Enee, meenee, minee..." her finger landed on the left path "mo!" she snickered, "Let's give this one a try shall we. Should break out those bread crumbs you have handy? I believe we're going to be needing them right about now."

With a giggle she nodded and pulled out a loaf of stale bread, "Great minds think alike!" Catisa paused a moment to reach up and mark the wall at the entrance of the path they had decided to take with a small scorch mark in the shape of a star. "For added assurance." She stated to her colleague before she ripped a corner off of the bread and began to sprinkle it behind them as they proceeded. There was very little space between them as they moved, her willingness to not allow any distance between them so they wouldn't get separated was very apparent.

Snowyn noted the closeness between them and smiled; best to stick close together! Snowyn continued holding out the wand in front of her. In the darkness of the cave, a small, but very benign article of clothing lay on the cold, hardened dirt beneath them. Much like a child with a stick, Snowyn poked at it before gently picking it up. She stared, pursing her lips: a lacy, purple bra! "I'm guessing this must be Kisles..." she looked it over, "no blood. Signs of any rippage...." she shoved the bra into her small purse, disappearing into the void, "I do hope she's okay. Her and Luka."

"Me too!" Catisa nodded in agreement as she inspected the garment as well, brow arched. "Though, what a piece of clothing to lose here... where are the rest of them?" She sighed with a huff, uncertain if they would even find the answers. As they continued shuffling along in the dim light of the cavern with torches that grew fewer and farther in-between, she conceded, "At least that tells us we're headed in the right direction."

"I just hope we're not too late..." Snowyn said sadly. She pointed her wand forward and took Catisa's lead, looking for any more signs of the pair. For what seemed like ages, Snowyn walked beside her companion, trying to find any other clues. So far, none to be found. The last article of clothing had been the bra and nothing else had turned up just yet. Snowyn sighed, concern growing on her features each minute that passed by with nothing to be found.

Every few feet she tore off a new piece of bread to sprinkle in their wake, her brow furrowed with worry, "Agreed." Catisa stated, but just as she thought to quicken the pace a chill ran down her spine. From somewhere ahead of them a low and haunting wail reverberated off of the cavern walls and it took all the poor girl had not to shriek as she turned to cling desperately to Snowyn. Her hands trembled and she looked even more pale than she did in the artificial light from her wand.

Being the scardey cat that she was, Snowyn clung to Catisa back! She held her close, perhaps almost too close that she could very well suffocate Catisa, if she didn't do anything to push the red-haired mage back. "What on Azeroth was that!?" she said in a low, panicked whisper to Catisa. She held out her wand, swinging it back and forth in a rushed motion, "You heard that right? Of course you did. Goodness..." she said turning pale herself.

Catisa nodded as they clung to each other, though color quickly returned to her cheeks as she realized how close they were and blushed heavily. "M-maybe-" She gulped in an attempt to compose herself. "Maybe that was the reason they're missing." Came her conjecture despite trembling hands, still white-knuckling any fabric of Snowyn's that she could have clung to. "D-do you think ghosts are real?" She asked suddenly in her paralyzed state.

Snowyn drew in a deep breath - it was time to woman up! She stopped clinging to Catisa and gently reassured her with soothing rubs to her upper arms. Gazing into the dark for a moment, she looked back at Catisa, "I do... which is why we're here. To put them to rest if they're the reason Luka and Kisles are missing...." she cleared her throat, standing up straight, "We got to be brave. Too late to turn back now..." she said, crouching low and moving quietly forward. She blew at the tip of her wand, dulling the light in it just enough for them to see in front of them. She looked back at Catisa and smiled warmly, "Come along now. Lets not surprise whatever ghouls lurk here... If things get bad, just start shooting and run, understood? Follow your marks and bread crumbs back."

She cleared her throat and nodded, "Right." Her features hardened as she took the possibility of a threat far more seriously, and continued spreading bread crumbs behind them and marking the walls at each turn they took. The silence was near deafening as they proceeded to creep along in the darkness of the caverns seldom traveled, her shoulders arched with the mental preparation to brace herself for the next surprise. Catisa dared not speak even in a whisper in case something was listening, laying in wait for them to be caught off guard.

Snowyn carefully stepped through the darkness, her wand raised up over her head. She stayed vigilant as the two of them creeped through the darkness. The same sound from earlier echoed through the tunnels, only this time it was a little louder. It was unnerving, to say the least, but Snowyn crept forward. Her steps became hushed as to not surprise whatever it was they were going to find in the tunnels ahead of them. In the darkness, a dull flame lit up the tunnels. Shadows danced across the walls. Snowyn paused, pointing as they neared their destination. "Get ready..." she said in a padded whisper.

Catisa nearly dropped the bread as a second wail echoed through the cave, though she was able to maintain her composure this time. With brows knit the mage flicked her free wrist and flames began to dance at her fingertips. "Whatever it is... I have your back." She tried to reassure herself as much as her compatriot. There was a dim light further down the tunnel as though there was another torch or lantern that flickered erratically. Strange elongated shadows of misshapen and malformed creatures flashed down the tunnel walls accompanied by rustling sounds of movement in the distance.

Snowyn nodded to Catisa, a look of determination disguising the nervousness she felt going forward towards the light. As they made their approach, rustling could be heard, but no voices; nothing to give away it or all of it was. Snowyn rounded the corner, her back pressed to the cavern wall as they approached what appeared to be another tunnel that had been lit up completely to the right side. Snowyn drew in a deep breath as she inched closer to the entrance to the side tunnel. She looked over at Catisa, whispering, "On the count of three..." Snowyn said, pointing her wand out in the direction of the tunnel, "One.... Two...."

The fledgling mage had been counting with her, right by her side with the flames in her palms at the ready. "...Three!" They would have said together and Catisa rushed forward into the lit up cavern before she could think about hesitating. A pair of gasps filled the air and the rustling noises quickly turned to scrambling with belongings and garments being thrown about. What she assumed to be the rest of the clothing was outstretched before them in a trail to what appeared to be makeshift bedding. "Wha-?" Her confusion was palpable as the pair they had been searching for sat mostly nude before them save for a single sleeping back that they cowered behind, clearly having thought they would be undisturbed.

"D-don't hurt us!" The human male she assumed was Luka yelped.

On three, Snowyn pointed out her wand with her companion in tow before letting out a gasp and covering her eyes. She saw what she saw and immediately turned away for a moment, allowing the couple some time to cover up. Looking back and seeing they were somewhat decent after covering themselves up, she placed her hands at her hips, "Miss Kisles. Mister Luka. You could've at least sent a letter or a notice or something before gallivanting into the tunnels!" she scolded, sheathing her wand into a makeshift loop in her belt, "The director will be most displeased! I'm sure if the both of you would've explained your relationship to her, you wouldn't have to hide out in the tunnels. You had us all worried..." her tone softening at the end. She let out a long, drawn out sigh. She took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head, "Please - for all our sakes, let's get back to the estate and inform the Director of your return, if that's what you want to do. I do not know of your intentions, but either way she and the rest of our company has the right to know..."

"Oh thank the light!" Luka exclaimed and the pair breathed a sigh of relief while they reached for their respective clothing.

"Uh, anyone seen my bra?" Kisles asked to no one in particular.

Catisa just covered her face with both hands and turned around, successfully hiding the crimson in her features from everyone except for Snowyn who might have also heard the small 'meep' that escaped her. She had not been prepared for such an outcome to their search! The poor girl remained like that while Luka continued from his earlier exasperation.

"We lost our way, but somewhere along the way wandering about these endless tunnels..." He paused and smiled at his companion, Kisles. "We found each other."

Snowyn giggled seeing Catisa's reaction and turned back to the couple. She looked to Kisles and walked over to her, fumbling through her purse and procuring the bra she had left in the tunnels. " Best keep this on you," she snickered. Addressing both, "Well now that you've found each other and we've found you, let's get out of here. This is nowhere to... well.... I know it's private and all, but the Director can find you both a room, if you like. That way neither of you have to lose yourself in the tunnels and you can continue your...." she cleared her throat, trying to find the right word, "Business with one another there instead. Likely wards can be placed to mute any sounds," trying to sound as professional as possible, but her own cheeks lit up a slight red as she tried to find the right wording.

Kisles snatched up the Bra, "Thanks!" and continued to dress herself while Luka smiled to Snowyn and elaborated.

"Now that you're here to guide us I'm sure that will be much easier! We've just been wandering about getting more and more lost." With a hearty chuckle he pulled his shirt over his head and the pair, though dirty and unwashed, were ready to go.

Catisa turned around once she heard them stop moving around so much and breathed a sigh of relief to see that they were dressed once more. "Yes, quite, let's get out of here. I've had about enough of these caverns." She stated as she tucked the bread loaf away at last, "We marked our tracks so it should be fairly easy to find our way back." Still blushing red, she tried to use her hair to block the view of her rosy cheeks.

Snowyn snickered again. She held up her wand, lighting it up with a brighter glow. She walked over to the other side of the tunnel and much like a school teacher, "Alright everyone, let us get to moving then. The tunnel is no place for... a great many things. Let us be back before it grows dark on the outside world. I'd rather not be caught dead in the middle of redridge with all manner of foul creatures about. Or if there are any in the tunnel - let us avoid them!" Looking to Catisa, "Miss Wells. Would you kindly lead the way?"

"Of course!" The fledgling mage was more than happy to lead the way and set the pace for leading them out of there. Kisles and Luka filed in close behind and almost clinging to each other including Snowyn and Catisa. She flicked her wrist and flames ignited once more, illuminating the path ahead as she lead onward.

"Sorry for causin' ya so much trouble." Kisles finally piped up, "We never meant anyone to fret."

Luka nodded his agreement in the dim light, "Yes, and thank you so much for your help." He added with a sigh.

Snowyn ushered them along, "Quite alright, we're just glad you both are safe. And the director and the rest of the company will be glad too," she smiled, watching as Catisa lead the way. Looking back to Luka and Kisles, "I do suggest talking to the Director and explaining yourselves... she's worried sick, I imagine. Two of her finest workers. Tsk tsk," scolding playfully.

Catisa snickered to herself up front and smirked at Snowyn, "Yes, quite!" Her still flushed features hidden by the blend of warm light emitting from her palm.

"Oi we will, but honestly I would love a bath first!" Kisles responded with a giggle.

"Yes, a bath would do both of you well..." she humphed playfully at the two.

"I'll join you..." Luka purred to Kisles, sneaking a kiss to her forehead.

"Oh you two - wait til we're back at the estate, if you will," she snickered behind them, keeping her wanding raised up.

@snowynsilverfield @thevioletbastion

#job board posting #violetbastion #guild #snowynsilverfield #catisawells #magic #rp #caverns #labyrinth #WoW #wyrmrestaccord

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