theborderlandcoalition

[theborderlandcoalition]

“Instead of worrying about what you cannot control, shift your energy to what you can create.”

— Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart

[theborderlandcoalition]

Untold, Undone.. (Perspective shift)

It had started as a feeling..

It felt as though his hand was cramping, as if he'd spent days using just his hand, it ached and every movement was a mixture of pain and strain. He couldn't understand why it was happening and the more he tried to ignore it, the more the pain demanded his attention.

Lio gathered his things, his aching hand making everything more difficult, causing him to drop items he'd sworn he had a grip on. One such item, the journal he was found with, fell to the floor and lay open. The dracthyr's hand paused a few inches from the journal as the pages suddenly began to flip rapidly until it lay open on the first page, words penning themselves to the page as he picked it up.

If you can see this then it means you are nearing the point of no return, a point that will change your life forever. No matter what you think you know, what you think you are capable of, you will fail. Failure is inevitable, get that through your head now, accept it, understand it. The only way to avoid failure is to do something that will go against everything you believe in.

I can go into a long winded explanation of the how and why.. but I don't know how close you are to that moment and unfortunately we don't have the time for it. So in short: Do nothing.

More will be revealed in time,

Lio

He nearly dropped the journal then and there, and again when one of the smaller nerubians appeared beside him, tugging on his cloak. "I take it my flyer is ready?"

The little one nodded and pointed across the platform of the Weaver's Lair. "I won't keep them waiting."

When he didn't immediately move the little nerubian grabbed his cloak and started moving in the direction of the flyer, but Lio's weight kept the poor thing stuck in place, it's many legs skittering at high speed but going nowhere.

"I'm coming, I'm coming.." He started to move, only walking immediately became awkward as the nerubian refused to release his cloak.

Other larger nerubians were now watching, their many eyes focused on the little one dragging Lio. The dracthyr caught their looks and merely opted to give them a shrug as he odd-waddled behind the pint sized nerubian.

As he reached the launch point the flyers were using the little nerubian finally released him, gesturing rather impatiently between Lio and the flyer. "I get it, I'm sorry, I'm going.. see?"

He quickly climbed onto its back and before he could look back to wave farewell to his irritable little companion, the flyer took off. The dracthyr held on as best he could, trying to remember the route it took as it bobbed, swayed, and dived around the many obstacles, between web-bombs and stalactites and nerubian structures. He was just beginning to wonder where he was being taken when it suddenly banked hard to the right and into a dive.

They landed safely, thankfully, but his feet only just touched the ground before his flyer was off. "Oh.. suppose I'll find my own way back?" He resisted the urge to give the flyer the finger, not that the damned thing would understand the gesture.

A pair of torches marked a path ahead, voices ahead told him he was where he needed to be. The camp itself wasn't much, a few simple shelters had been built but not nearly enough to house the number of people here. He recognized the robes of many of the people here, survivors of Dalaran, many of them huddled together in hushed conversations. As Lio moved among them he could hear them discussing their impending departure and when he managed to speak to a few that were sitting around one of the strange fiery plants he learned some of the survivors had already reached Hallowfall. Perhaps the rescue attempts weren't all in vain like they had appeared.

The other topic that seemed to have these survivors worried was how ineffective their attempts at any form of portal or teleportation has been met with failure, as if something was disrupting their connection to the leylines. When Lio pressed for more information he was met with scrutiny, one survivor even commenting that the dracthyr wouldn't understand, but an older man, his robes nearly in tatters and a stained bandage over one of his eyes said it wasn't as if they were cut off completely, but that any attempts at such magic had been unstable. He went on to explain that portals and teleportation was a very precise magic and even the slightest problem could be catastrophic to the caster. Lio thanked the older man, making a mental note to relay this information to the others as soon as he could, though he hadn't seen any of the Sunshields show a hint of magical ability or arcane prowess.

An Arathi, using his shield like a cane to hold himself upright beckoned the dracthyr. "Haven't seen you around here, are you from Hallowfall? Or the Wall?"

"I came from both actually.. I was part of a rescue attempt that went to Siegehold." When the Arathi perked up, Lio felt a pang of guilt at sparking a hope he would have to crush. "It was unsuccessful.. as far as I know there were no survivors. I was sent here from..."

He paused, uncertain how this information would be taken. Friendly nerubians? Well.. friendly-ish. "Deeper within.. we'd heard there were survivors here and hoped perhaps our own people might be among them. Unfortunately, I don't see a familiar face.. at least not to me as I only just joined these people recently."

Another sweep of the camp with his eyes confirmed, no crimson scales, no hint of her laughter, or a whiff of her scent. Roma wasn't among them.

"There were more here." The Arathi cleared his throat. "But they were taken in the night, dragged to the catacombs below. We sent fighters but.. we have little hope for their return."

Catacombs.. the dracthyr nodded. Given what he'd experienced so far, it was safe to assume no one would be returning. But he had to know, had to see for himself. "Thank you.. get some rest now."

He took only a step away when the Arathi grabbed his arm, "If you plan to go.. I wish to join you." A few of the other nearby Arathi pushed to their feet.

Lio smiled, placing his hand over the injured man's. "These people need you here, all of you. There's no telling how long it will take to get them all out of here."

The Arathi looked to the survivors, his stare lingering for some time on his own people.

"If I find them.. I will honor them." The dracthyr thought back to his time at the Wall, a specific moment coming to mind. "I will collect their tinderboxes and return them to you if I find them."

Silence stretched between them as the Arathi stared at Lio. "I.." He swallowed. "Thank you."

Leaving the survivors and their guardians back at the camp, the dracthyr made his way to the catacombs. It didn't take him long to know he was heading in the right direction, the stench of death and something else, something that threatened to empty the contents of his stomach assaulted his senses. Lio didn't think twice, immediately assuming his true form as soon as the entrance was in sight. He wasn't going to take any chances.

The dracthyr heard it before he saw it, a soft chittering sound followed by the leathery flap of wings, a flyer darted out from the mouth of the catacomb directly at him. He twisted as it drew near, his tail whipping around in a wide arc and catching the flyer right down the middle. The screech of the winged nerubian as it was split in two resulted in the sound of several leathery wings flapping from within and they began to pour from the entrance towards Lio who drew in a deep breath and exhaled in a volcanic blast. What little remained of those caught in his attack splattered into smoldering puddles and clumps on the ground around him.

"Bloody hell.." He let out a hacking cough, the last remnants of his breath swirling out in embers and ash. "Way to make an entrance, mate.."

Inside the catacombs was exactly as he expected more of the winged nerubians but many of them were either already dead or barely clinging to life. The deeper he went the harder it was becoming to breathe, spores filled the air and many of the bodies, both humanoid and nerubian, were covered in growths. Those that lived were granted a swift death, what little remained of their bodies couldn't be saved and whatever infected them shouldn't leave this place. The path split but the dracthyr's eyes could see that the other path was caved in so he continued down the other, still seeing no sign of Romassi or the Arathi until he came to a dead end.

Strewn along the ground were dead fungal abominations and flyers and across from the bodies at the back of the tunnel lay the Arathi, from the looks of it they'd fought to the last man but even he succumbed to his wounds. Lio cursed under his breath and stepped through the bodies of their enemies, checking each of the Arathi in turn for their tinderboxes. Once collected and tucked away the dracthyr drew in a deep breath, feeling his chest and throat expand as the intense heat began to build within him, he held it for a moment, a silent prayer sent to whoever would hear his thoughts before he exhaled and began backing out of the catacomb. Burn it all, all of it, cleanse it, leave nothing to grow and fester, leave nothing to chance, nothing escapes, nothing survives.

Once back at the entrance he let out the last of his volcanic breath and watched everything burn briefly before summoning a surge of energy in a blast to seal it. He stood there for some time, his mind a storm of torment at his failure to find Roma. What if he never found her? What then? It had been his only purpose since the moment he'd lost her. He resigned to wallowing in his own guilt later, he needed to report back after a quick stop at the camp.

The Arathi awoke some time in the middle of the night, jerking awake as though someone had shook him. Beside his makeshift bed, sitting on a cloth in a neat stack were the tinderboxes the stranger had promised him.

[theborderlandcoalition]

A good group this year to celebrate Ethan's day. Melek Thalart Rosemarri Yelena Theick Dameon Burrich Drekker

[theborderlandcoalition]

HAPPY Ethan’s day of MUR-DER (pvp) We (TBC) are spending a day of remembrance to a person that we lost to suicide in a way that would tickle him - murdering others, yelling fuck when we lose and just being together. Most of this group met Ethan when he was just a nerdy high school kid who fenced, grew up on a ranch with sisters and roleplayed in his free time. We watched him turn into a successful military figure, father and… well super slut. He is missed. If you wish to join in, put on that ugly as shit tabard he loved so much and PVP. Even if its bad and send over screen shots. We'll love each one. Pvp and missing him aside - mental health isn’t something to struggle through alone in the dark. And getting therapy is a sign of a healthy person protecting themselves and there's no shame in that. There is even text sessions for ppl that don't like other people ha. Protect yourself, you don't need a day of remembrance. https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/suicide-prevention

Military Crisis Line | Veterans Crisis Line

[theborderlandcoalition]

Southwatch Updates:

It is that time of year. The house will be leaving Westfall and relocating to the keep in Northrend for the entire month of December. They are taking a ship there since the world story hints that magic/portals are unreliable at the moment and no one wants to get portal assassinated. This is the first year that Drekker is not home to bring the Winter Veil tree to the keep, THUS breaking a multi-year tradition of watching him drag that shit home. Sad day. The family’s journey is supervised by Lathen and Varsen with the Folcard family staying behind to maintain order in Southwatch. All knights and guardians that did not go with Araian will be accompanying the family on the journey - unless retired. Duty and shit.

Mentions: Dividers by the lovely @strangergraphics Pictures by @sunsandwolves Drekker mention @drekker GM @theoldlord

[theborderlandcoalition]

You've already stretched your body as far as you could, as if you're hugging a continent in your arms, shouldering the sky on your spine, while standing with your feet on the edge of the world that could collapse at any time. And that's powerful, isn't it? So don't ever let anyone else tell you're weak. You owe it to the universe inside of you to tell them otherwise.

- 05/17/21, anastasiasyah

[theborderlandcoalition]

[theborderlandcoalition]

[theborderlandcoalition]

TBC in the deeps.

[theborderlandcoalition]

TBC in the deeps.

[theborderlandcoalition]

"You first.." Nope.

[theborderlandcoalition]

Outtakes...

[theborderlandcoalition]

Yelena and Sarrodel

[theborderlandcoalition]

Burrich's new partner

[theborderlandcoalition]

Mr Marrow's informant..

[theborderlandcoalition]

Sarrodel's offering...

[theborderlandcoalition]

House Sunshield landed on the beaches of the Isle of dorn and were quickly joined by new allies Mr. Morrow and Sarrodel Fadrynthera. After surveying the devastating wreckage that made up what was left of Dalaran, they made their way through the gathering horde and alliance forces to the small unbound earthen village of Freywold.

Melek and daughters have been tasked with gathering information.

While they were given rooms and food, the reception was cold if not downright hostile.

As Burrich and Yelena settled in for the night, their conversation summoned some iota of pity from one of the unbound and it was suggested that they join the search party for the missing earthen and maybe they would so find who they were missing.