RP-PvP

Within the hallowed halls of Silvermoon, she laid eyes upon her trainee with disdain. Wearing a mace that healers would wield, and a shield, Agita stood at the auctioneers making a purchase of some sort. She just so happened to look away for a brief second to Irihapeti, who snapped her finger but once. She immediately ceased all she did or thought to do and ran right to the tall woman.

"Pathetic. What are you, a healer of some sort?"

"Well, I was making a pur-"

"That doesn't matter now. If you're going to be mine to command, you must learn how to better wield weapons of war, as well as pick the -right- weapon." She replied with annoyance. "Go. Hillsbrad Foothills. Now."

At once, the two rode on gryphons hard to the Undercity, where they arrived by early morning. Moving south, they found themselves on the outskirts of Southshore. Iri did not unsheath her weapon as she approached the guards.

[ Had a blast with a mess of awesome folks last night mauling Sylvanas. Got inspired by all the brilliance in vent. :x ]

[ For more about Ythika, and the Blood and Felfire storyline, check out bloodandfelfire.blogspot.com ]

It was always raining in Arathi Basin.  Leaning against the support post of the gold mine, Bramblebeard sucked air through a thick cigar spiked with swiftthistle, keeping his eyes open for any movement.  In the Basin, death was as constant as the rain.  He liked it that way.

He flexed his muscles, hearing the leather creak and the bits of scar tissue lacing the thick bands snapping.  He pulled his cloak closer, the damp penetrating his skin and bringing the winter's chill with it.  It had all begun a month or so ago...

He had run across an old friend, Turrin Gryphonheart.  Turrin needed another member for his arena team.  Bramblebeard needed another opportunity to die.  Still, the goblins made sure there were priests on hand to handle resurrections.  Bramblebeard wished for a firmer chance at death, rather than the possibility of slipping through the cracks of a priest's resurrection spell.