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   Khadgar only makes a face at Lothar’s words, swatting his palm away as he

     makes it, but only manages to hit air as Lothar turns away. Again, it’s all in

     teasing, and Khadgar isn’t truly angered by the words of the older man. It

     was actually somewhat comforting that Lothar himself was comfortable 

     enough with Khadgar to act this way.

   His palms jumble as a frown creases his forehead and his lips after safely

     catching the tossed sword. It’s a blunt sword, but that doesn’t make it any 

     less dangerous. “That could’ve hit me, you know,” he informs, although he’s

     sure Lothar knows better. Still, that doesn’t make it any less frustrating. As

     he glances towards the blade, then back to Lothar, he finds himself feeling

     slightly uneasy about the situation. He’s never trained with a blade before,

     that much is obvious.

He reaches over to flick Khadgar’s ear.

“Oh, now you’re an old man? Deaf as well as wise?” He laughs, and turns away to another rack,  which holds stacks of wooden training swords. These are the first weapon a recruit holds, until they’re judged competent enough to kill each other with something pointier. They’re blunt, lighter than a sword – intended purely for teaching forms. He grasps one, tosses it to Khadgar without much warning.

“Here.” 

Grasping one for himself, too – adjusting his grip, swinging it neatly around in his hand once or twice to adjust to his weight. “You never know when you might need to fight a man with more traditional  methods than you’re used to.

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hi !! this is a revamped from 2013 jim kirk blog that I’m too lazy to make a promo for ! if you could give this a like/reblog, that would be totally awesome and I look forward to rping with all of you <3.

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I’ve got 99 icons and the particular expression I need ain’t one.

ancient roleplaying proverb (via half-sassed)

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   Khadgar glances around for a moment until his eyes set on a step, arms

     still remaining crossed over his chest even after sitting down. The water

     comes up to about his waist now, but Khadgar doesn’t feel near as 

     uncomfortable now that he’s in shallow waters. Eyes then roam over Callan,

     admiring and wondering how long the chiseled muscle took to acquire. The

     amount of training.

     “I never had time to learn before I was sent to the Kirin Tor.”

“No problem,” he quickly replies, laying back so that he floated on his back. “I’m just as happy sitting here and talking. Though, I might need to get some more to eat.”

As he drifted, Callan never considered that he was putting himself on display. Being a soldier, he was entirely used to exposing himself. It never occurred to him his openness might make Khadgar uncomfortable.

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How do u make ur edits????? They're really good

╰☆╮–

     (first of all, thank you! this was super nice to receive and made me feel really good :). secondly, I make all of my edits in photoshop cs6. if you want specifics for how I make my icons on this blog, I can make a tutorial or something, but my themes are always a little bit different for each one so it may be a little bit harder to explain that.)

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   “It seems like I keep having to remind you,” Khadgar replies, their banter

     nothing less than friendly. Lothar doesn’t treat him as a child much 

     anymore, not seriously anyway, and Khadgar appreciates that. All his life

     he had been under teaching, the student, and had never had the chance to

     prove himself to be a teacher or at least something more than an 

     apprentice. If he was so ‘great’ at his skill, why was recognition not given?

     Was that silly of him to think? Selfish? Khadgar didn’t know.

   Confusion flashes in his expression in that moment, wondering just what

     Lothar is planning to do. “Pardon?” he inquires, as if urging Lothar to go on

     with what he had planned.

   “So you keep telling me.”

    And the truth is – though he had been struck at first by the mage’s     youthful features and touch of naivety, by the conclusion that the     boy must be no older than his own son – Lothar no longer looks at     Khadgar and thinks of him as a child. Not really. The same way that     he sees Callan now –                                      – saw Callan, at the end –                                                                                 – as a grown man.

    Still. He takes too much pleasure in annoying Khadgar, and is by far     too stubborn and too proud to admit his change in heart. And so.

    “You know,” he says, casual, “it wouldn’t hurt you to know a little.”

    He’s thinking of the orcs, those hulking creatures whose deaths had     required Medivh to grasp hold of that taint which had ended him, and     so many others. Sometimes, he believes, a sharp sword is the only     way to solve a problem, though he’s far from thinking that Khadgar is     defenceless.

    Losing another friend – for that’s what Khadgar is, now, after what     they’ve seen together and done together – is not something he’s     willing to even consider. If it’s in his power to prevent it, to make it a     little harder for fate to snatch something else from him, then he has     an obligation. A duty

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   Now that the truth is out, Khadgar feels an embarrassed wave of heat rush

     over his body. It wasn’t like it was a big deal, nothing to blush over (which

     he hoped that he wasn’t doing), but it couldn’t be helped. Almost everyone

     learned to swim..so he was the odd one out.

   “I trust you, understand that, but I don’t wish to go in,” he comments, biting

     on his bottom lip as his eyes set on the deeper water before him.

Treading water, even though it was shallow enough to stand, Callan gave a gentle smile. After a moment, he stood, taking a few steps closer to the shore. “Can’t swim, huh?”

It was a guess, but one he was fairly certain of given what he knew of Khadgar. “Don’t worry, I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

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   To see ears perk up in delight was...surprising to the mage especially since,

     well, humans’ ears can’t possibly perk. Still, it’s somewhat endearing that

     his response gives her so much excitement, enough to respond in 

     excitement over something that did nothing to her or changed her path in 

     any way. It was possible that she had interest in magic as well...although, it

     doesn’t seem to be her choice.

   “Are you interested in magic then?” he questions then, wondering to see if

     she will open up on the topic.

     The hunter’s ears perked up in delight. Giving a small smile, she reminisced about her young adulthood and the day she had to chose her path. Magic had always amazed her whether that be mages, priests, and even warlocks once she finally met one; however, it was not the life Elune had chosen for her. 

     “A mage? How fantastic! Many of my brothers and sisters chose the path of magic and it’s such a beautiful craft. I’m sure you execute it wonderfully!”

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And so I wrote

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@archmcge

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Because Harbringer, man, all the feels. THis ship, my oldest ship. Sailed over 15 years yet in a very good condition.

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https://www.facebook.com/BlizzHeroes/videos/484147741794735/

What have you been cooking @serve-the-legion?

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   The whole ordeal itself was awkward. Such a thing wasn’t done unless a

     child was learning to swim, which was exactly what Khadgar felt like at this

     time. After all the times he’d insisted to others that he wasn’t child like, this

     made it seem like his efforts were in vain. “I know,” he replies weakly,

     knowing that his lie had gone on long enough already.

By the time Callan realizes that Khadgar isn’t moving deep into the water he’s already in the middle. He turned to talk to Khadgar, but the young mage was back at the shore. He laughed, swimming back to Khadgar. 

“The water’s not that deep, you know.”

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   Mages typically carried staves; Khadgar did not have his own at the time. 

     He had a feeling that the Kirin Tor were planning on giving him one after his

     training, but that obviously didn’t work out the way it was supposed to. He

     knew that he would soon have to seek out one of great power, but that day

     had yet to come to him just yet. Patience was a virtue he wasn’t best at at

     some times, but Khadgar knew this was one time that he had to be.

     “My practice? I’m a mage of the arcane.”

     “The pleasure is mine,” Moonrasia replied, her gaze gentle and kind.

     She bit her lip as she studied his attire, chuckling softly to herself as her eyes found his recent addition upon his head. She had not seen clothing like this often, perhaps a time or two on her various visits to Stormwind. She was very used to the sight of armor, shields, and swords. He simply carried a satchel and appeared to be unarmed, which was peculiar to the elf as even healers carry a weapon of some sort. Maybe he was a civilian? She was not quite sure why, but he didn’t seem to be one. 

     “May I ask what you practice, if you do so?” She inquired, furrowing her brow.

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   Khadgar is tired, but his intelligence and his sense does not leave him like

     his energy does. The moment the air changes, Khadgar can feel it, and 

     while he is no shaman, he feels more in tact with the elements in that 

     moment than ever. There’s something about the area that isn’t right, and he

     isn’t the only one who notices.

   Suddenly, time is moving faster than Khadgar realizes. Everyone is rushing

     away from an approaching sandstorm that seems to have come from 

     nowhere and Khadgar feels a burst of energy that he didn’t know was 

     present before just then. His legs more quicker than anything, rushing to 

     get away form the awaiting danger.

◾Orgrim hands the nearly dehydrated apprentice mage a glass of water.

send a symbol to give my muse…

■: a nudge in the side

   The blazing sun on his back doesn’t help the sweat that’s already pouring

     down his back in buckets, the dry, sandy taste on his tongue that’s killing 

     him. Khadgar, unlike others, is not accustomed to this sort of weather. He’s

     used to solitude, to being in an area that does not have much heat either.

     Khadgar knows that he can conjure his own water, but it uses energy from

     his already small stack. To say the least, he certainly was in a bind in that

     moment.

   That changes when the Orc by his side hands him a water skin, the 

     condensation dripping off of it making Khadgar’s mouth yearn for it more 

     and more. Before he has time to thank Orgrim, he grabs it and begins

     swallowing the water down his throat, but attempts to control himself. He

     can’t possibly have all of it, unfortunately. “…Thank you,” he mutters after

     he’s caught his breath, gaze set on him now.