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As some pepole might have noticed, I haven't been in game for a while.  Real Life reared it's head rather suddenly and the whole family has been trying to roll with the punches for the past few months.  I've been turtling in my home as a way to cope and recently have been getting out of that shell.  While most of the art I've done recently won't ever be posted; some of it I'd like to share since it's been working on WOW ideas that have made me realize that so much time has past and I've barely been in contact with a handful of people in game.  You guys know who you are and thank you for the quiet support, you have no idea how much it helped.  I keep saying I will be back and I do mean it.

Larosa smirked as Travis sulked out the door to change into his best uniform for tonight's "meeting", glad that she didn't have to suffer alone tonight.  This evening, Larosa was allowing Liuetenant Sterling a small bit of payback for Alfonse's infiltration of their ranks.  The Liuetenant of the Royal Guards had been boiling mad at their impromptu meeting on Monday.  The fact that she outranked him was likely the only reason he didn't ask to take the meeting to a practice mat, instead he used his mind and came up with this devious idea.  She glanced at the time and sighed before turning back to the paperwork waiting for her attention on the desk.

As dawn broke above the waters of Stormwind Harbor, a young page entered his officer's room and discovered the blue haired elf sleeping in her desk chair.  Her tabard tossed over the back of the chair she sat in, the PT clothes she slept in, the same ones the page had seen her in the night before.  He quietly stepped in and glanced at the desk, thinking that maybe a message or two laid within his reach for delievery.  Her head laying amongst scattered papers, the remains of a lemon, and the various pens and inks that littered the surface.  An ink stained hand was tangled in her hair, an unconcious effort to keep it out of her face.

The page debated on cleaning up the desk, but knew better then to touch the papers without the Elf's permission.  Instead he reached out and gently shook the Liuetenant's shoulder with no effect.  He knew better then to try again or to shake the Kaldorei harder, he didn't want to end up tossed across the room on reflex, or out into the Hall.  Instead he gently backed out and quietly shut the door, not seeing a single softly glowing eye open as the door latched closed.

((As requested; here are the Current Dragoon Hall plans (I did these months ago and have had them on the Guild website), once Cataclysm goes live I will be redoing the Hall as needed to fit it's new home. The Program I used is Sweet Home 3D, useable on Mac and PC and can have items ( Funiture and other things) downloaded into it.  This was my first time using it and it was a blast figuring it out.  The furtinure is a bit more modern looking then we would like, but it gets the job done. All of these rooms, only contain the basic standard issue furniture, everyone I'm sure has done something or added other things to make their room more home like.  :D ))

((If I own it, it eventually gets covered in sketches, I decided to gather some of the Ixis that have poped up in meeting notes, on napkins and various scraps of paper and share them :) ))

(( Hlin asked me to do a picture of this is fiesty dwarf so here is my rendition of this red-headed dwarf about to leave Ulduar. I've decided to post the pictures showing the slow evolution of the picture.))

Larosa held her breathe as she waited for the last drops of ink to dry on the page.  She carefully put her calligraphy brush onto it's ceramic holder and let the air escape her lungs in a sigh of relief as she looked up at the ceiling.  A little over a month later and she was finally done, and with time to spare.

The Night Elf smiled as she began rubbing her sore fingers.  She was planning on give this to him right after the toast and on the actual date, she was arranging for a shipment of "supplies" to be delievered. 

((  I've been meaning to post this for Taty, to give her an idea on the images for my portfolio she has inspired me do this past semester in class.  It's not my usual art or the images that I think you see here on Haven as these drawings are done and stand as is.

They are  gesture and abstract-ish (abstract is something I don't normally do), and I'm playing with pushing spacial aspects of the image, and these are, in a sense, detail shots of larger pieces I am working on now.

Please feel free to tell me what you think, and don't worry, I'm literally my own worse critic, so nothing anyone else says is gonna hurt me. :D ))

((Just thought I would give you guys an update on how we were doing. Tristan is off of oxygen assistance and is now eating without a feeding tube! He's really improved over the last few days, more so than we could have hoped, and we hope to bring him home within the next week. Lots of pics below the cut for those interested!

 ((Below the break))

Sometimes it's amazing...

Boredom while servers are down drove me to this.

Basicly, if you've got a funny picture with cats (or without, if you must destroy the mood), I wanna see them!

Throughout my whole life, I have known how quickly creatures are to point out their differences when an offense is done unto them by another.  Enemies must be weaker, uglier, less virtuous--it would be a difficult thing to fight them if they weren't.  The more we hate, the more different we become.

Grok'romog's blood was warm on my face and blade as I snapped away from my trance like state.

It must have been during the height of the Orcish invasion of Azeroth when my hand was taken from me in their Citadel.  It was difficult to gauge how much time passed in there--it seemed pointless, and so most stopped counting after the first few years.  I could tell that most of their better warriors had left through the portal, as more and more of my people were being used to substitute for Orcs as guards and laborers.  I might have been special, I think--I never saw anyone else, Draenei or Broken who they seemed to pay such attention to in training and making in their image.  Then again, there was a great deal I didn't see.

The thirteenth day of the fourth month of the year 29

The first day of the fifth month of my twenty-first year

The last day of my life

I look around me, I cannot understand what I see.  Orcs.  In Shattrath.

How could the Naaru allow this?  After everything that they had done?  Does it not bother the Aldor, or the Shat'ar that these Orcs are using the very armor and weapons given to them as boons in this sanctuary city to kill our people and our new allies with as much enthusiasm as they had before?

That these monsters summon demons as pets and are free to practice their foul magic within the hallowed walls of Shattrath!  No!  I will never forgive them for what they have done, much less what they still do.  I will not see what is left of this world obliterated because we were too blind to see the events unfolding before us as they had but a few decades ago.