fight

After the events earlier in the day she took her leave of Star and Lilthessa, needing to be by herself own to rest and meditate. No longer could she even sleep, though she needed no sleep with the rune powers infusing her body. She choose a high pinnacle, overlooking the cold countryside and closed her eyes as she began to try and find some measure of peace, her blood slowly cooling as her ire disipated. Her powers then returning to their normal icy control.

Then... he was there.

"So do you miss me, Wisp?" says a voice in her ear, a familar voice, one she don't want to hear but seemed to keep finding her.

Her two-handed axes was off her back in a moment, swinging for where she surmised his head would be, though the swing had little chance of hitting blindly. He jumped back a few steps wearing a cocky grin as he regarded her, taunting her with his eyes.

            “Saej, come over here.”

            He can still hear her voice in his memory even now. Full of sweet care, to the toddler quel’dorei it was the sound of love itself.

            But that’s all. A voice, her beautiful voice.

            And a man, strong and intense. “Let him carry it,” he said to her, and chuckled, “he’s the strongest child I’ve ever seen.”

He stood silently atop the frozen peak. The large mountain barely leaving much room to stand. The large bronze dragon perched, claws dug into the rock just below him. His eyes were forlorn as always...that blue glow distant and somewhat dim. The wind whistled and whipped about his platinum colored hair. His heavy plate armor anchoring him in the snow...the chill of the wind crept up his spine. He closed his eyes and began to go back...to a time when things were more simple.

Dull black hair drifted across startling Human features, frozen in repose while he stared through the frosted glass, a soft sigh escaping his lips though no fog drifted away in the winter breeze. Elriech stared, the icy glowing gaze heavy and thoughtful, his claw tips gently pressed against the cabin wall next to the window pane. It wasn't like him to feel so lost, yet this evening, while the sun drifted behind the mountains, that strange gut feeling sunk him deeper into despair. The soft form draped across his bed, still clothed, snuggled into his pillows further. A thickly furred travel cloak had been draped across her, she had fallen asleep without even taking off her boots, let alone get under the covers. Still he stared, unable to get close to the women he desired lest he destroy everything he found beautiful, it's insatiable desire swept over him again while his claws dug deeper into the cabin wood.

He stood on the muddy ground, hooves dug in, both hands gripped the leather bound grip of his large axe. Krauss stood no more than mere yards across the way. Mortars exploded around them, spells fly about in wild elaborate flashes. "You could end all this death, Krauss. Look around! This is your doing!" 

He hadn't truly expected Krauss would be reasoned with, but he'd try. Krauss' response was slightly predictable. "I will end this, and you along with it. I"ll have you and that orc mounted on my wall when I'm done here." Much to his suprise, Krauss moved first. 

“There are three of them this time. Two of them I recognize… That third, the paladin I have not seen before.

Three should not be a non-issue.

But why are they here? Surely their home in Silvermoon would be preferable to this desert. It stinks of Orc.

Oh well.

The first one, that child, still looks injured from our little tussle prior. She I can wait for. The other male, he also does not seem to be in the best of health. He can wait as well. That leaves the Paladin…

He looks rather formidable. Surprising, considering their history.”

These are likely the last conscious thoughts made by Leshana before her battle. Everything else could be easily considered instinct.

I can’t seem to get though to him, I’ve tried with my heart, and now with his blood splattered bright across the shop floor.

The screams were real, the death of my Amani as they bought me time… bought me the moment needed to get Dante to safety.. Gelis would take her, he would see her safe.  They shouldn’t have been dying, no screams into the night.  They were supposed to be a warning system not a defense mechanism.  I couldn’t bare the sound.  They were dying for me, and the priest at my heels.  Our feet hit the blood soaked earth of the front garden, death and the after burn of fel… demons… Amani…

“Ixinane?”

  I had tried to avoid the situation, getting up before dawn could even reach its fingers forward and caress the sleeping city of Dalaran. I figured if I could get to the flight master fast enough, then I could just hunt on my own, no controlling thick headed marquis to follow. Apparently… nobody sleeps in this blasted city. I rounded the corner, and there, shifting next to the wyverns was the Marquis Ythgar Vinguld, riding atop a rather impressive drake. Damn it.

Doodling sexually suggestive positions from last nights RP while at work. DONT ACT LIKE YOU'VE NEVER DONE IT (;O_o)

If anyone wants to color it that would be super awesome :)

Race

            “Hurry up, ya fat fuck! I got seven kills up on you!” Elrin shouted as he sliced his way through another zombie. “Wha’ are ya takin’ a nap, ol’ man?”

            Hron’s heart thudded in his chest. Thump thump thump. The joints in his arms and legs were on fire. They had been at it for almost six hours, just killing wandering undead. The pains were the worst, here in Icecrown. The ghouls didn’t help, either, of course.

She stood before him, the mud hardening on her clothing and bruises starting to bloom on her skin. This was going to be bad. Very, very bad. She had seen him rage and yell, knew when that vein started pulsing on his forehead that she had pushed him too far.

But now he was silent. And that vein not only looked like it was going to burst out of his forhead and strangle her itself, it was joined by a few friends she had never seen before.

Zeth's mother had slipped out of the room as she arived home, and she knew the 'official report' had already reached them.

((mature for violence and sketch))

  It would have come down to this eventually, that I had known since Blackmarrow and I had first evolved into being more then just an angry blood elf who hired an assassin.  It seemed like ages ago since he had confronted me in the Undercity about the task I had set him on.  We never did manage to find that man…..

The woman shrieked several times as she felt blow after blow hit her. She tried to cry for help but was silenced by a strong hand and another punch to her stomach. In this section of old town it was unlikely anyone would hear her muffled cries.

"Quiet lady, if you had just handed over your purse to begin with we wouldn't need to teach you a lesson," The lead thug said hoarsely, he wasn't participating in the beating of the young woman. He preferred to watch his lackeys do his bidding and keep his hands relatively clean.

"I suggest you let her go," a cold flat voice ordered, Janiil quietly stepped out from the shadows. The leader of the thugs imediatly turned around to eye up the newcomer. Smirking when he saw she was wearing only dull red leather garments and had no visible weapons.

 Artisania Marveloso sighed as she watched the wyvern fly off.

 With a few beats of its wings, the tawny beast had cleared the long spires protruding from the hillside and disappeared over the edge of the cliffs, into the interior of the Blade's Edge Mountains.  Hopefully, perhaps, to one of the greener areas where it could find a good meal of some sort, or –

"Fuck joo!"

 Artisania started at the oath, turning to blink at the angry young troll seething before her.  Hakka'jin's green-glowing helm prevented her face from being seen, but Artisania imagined it was a similar mask of rage.  "Joo did that on purpose!" she spat, her fists uncurling to point an accusatory finger.

Sacrificed to the Gods of Old

Deleted in the name of Hron the Cheeselike

    I was irritated, I had left my manner after penning a responds to some lady who had asked for my attendance to dinner…. A Lady Shryn'Dael Keledan, she wanted to discuss Iloam… so I agreed, I might not eat anything there, but none the less it peaked my interest, but this was not why I was irritated. 

Alex looked at the rusted gate, her expression slightly frustrated, staring at the key which was placed in the lock. She reached out her hand and grabbed the key, trying to turn it… with no success.

The mage sighed. “So much for sneaking in.” she said to herself.

She took a step back, and kicked the metal gate. The gate flew open with a loud screeching sound, and finished with a loud clang, as it flew into the stone wall.

Alex let out a slight chuckle, realizing that the sound was more then enough to wake the dead as it were… as she stepped into the service entrance to the city of Stratholme.

The city itself, was a huge mix of enemies. Between the internal war between the scarlet factions, and the scourge; and the steam of adventurers coming at the behest of the argent dawn… this place was hell.

“I can not escape it, just as you can not hope to escape it. We are the same, the masks we wear are different, but we are both fated to live solely in the heat of battle. You, my enemy, are more like me then you will ever admit to; to deny that would be to deny yourself.”  -Unknown.

Goldshire, was one of a few small towns within traveling distance of Stormwind. The town had significant fewer resources to spend compared to the big city.  Because of this, it was the perfect location for storing things, and people. There were fewer questions, and fewer pockets. It was no big surprise to find out that the would-be assassins, and genocide experts of the cult of the dammed, would use the town in such a manner.

I collapsed into the first chair I could find, propping a foot up on my desk, barefoot and tattooed, all I wanted was a smoke. As I loaded some maiden’s anguish into my late father’s pipe, I took in how much my body hurt, and how my fel tainted arm throbbed as if it had a pulse all its own. I couldn’t remember when I had such a busy day as this, honestly, I couldn’t wait to crawl into bed and forget about most of it.

{{ To set the scene: this happened a week after Tolrain’s assault on Shedwyn which Sowelu lied to cover up. She’s pleaded guilty and faced her discipline and (she thought) patched things with Ktar. She was firm in her desire to serve the Dragoons and her position properly. But, in one week's time she found herself:

Lying to Shedwyn about her knowledge of what happened.

Contracting a newer version of the Plague and purging herself of it.

And then came THIS fateful day: Ktar and Barsa entered the Inn Between reeking of conspiracy. Sowelu confronts Ktar in the garden and presses him to reveal what’s going on and he does: he’s going to murder Severanus. A long argument ensues where Sowelu tries to convince him that he’s not seeing things clearly, that Sev hasn’t done anything wrong, and that he’ll regret it when he realizes what he’s done. He finally goes to get some peace from his daughter and think, leaving her by the pond. (Keep in mind this occurs not long after Castles in the Sand so you can catch some of the imagery.) … Sorry for the length.}}

((Hello, everyone! Morathius wanted me to repost this, so here I go! This was a fight between Morathius and Adriano, who at the time was the mind slave of Paxineau Cheraville refered to as Blackthorne. As were all of the Blackthorne vs ____ blogs, it is a recap of an in-game RP fight that took place. Very screenshot heavy. Enjoy!))

Blood and Frost

The drool slowly oozed down the rocky surface. It was an endless stream of unstoppable drool, slowly attempting to digest the rock but failing miserably. The source of this terror? Hakkajin’s unconscious body sprawled out with an empty alcoholic bottle in her hand.

 ((Originally posted 2006/11/25))

“I think you listen the best out of all of us.” One woman said to the other.

“We all have our place.” The other woman replied.

After a few more words the women parted ways…

"Vows are spoken to be broken
Feelings are intense, words are trivial" (Depeche mode)

Everything began with a simple request. Blackmarrow had successfully retrieved Iloam’s soul from the man who had once kept it. His want of revenge on that lascivious rogue was finally at hand, all he needed was help deciphering how to use the soul stone that held the shining end to Iloam’s life. That is what Blackmarrow asked of me, to assist in the breaking of the soul. When he held up that swirling stone of light, I could feel every desire as a warlock pressing towards it in my mind, I had no choice but to agree.

((warning violence and language)) 

I was aware of being moved, of Liore’s hands pushing my limp and bleeding body into a cloak laid out on the floor, he was wrapping me up in it. The arrow still in my stomach was shifted to lie along the line of my body, I knew it should have hurt, and I knew it was probably stabbing into something I’ll find out I need later. But it was like being in a dream and knowing you were in that dream, but not able to do anything about it. The sleeping agent in my leg had seen to that.

((Warning sexual content, language, violence))

Oh he was a pretty thing, standing on the high rise of Hammerfall, Perhaps the heat and the sun were just getting to me, but I couldn’t help but noticed the freckle dusted elf standing with a rather arrogant air by the mail boxes, his bright red hair seeming to reflect the sunshine.