Black Rook Hold
Far from the prying eyes of others, long-buried beneath the many layers of fallen mountains millenia-gone-by, lies a vast citadel, carved into the side of a mud-covered mountain composed entirely of a dense black rock.
With axe, and pick, hammer, and chisel, and - as Elune willed it - the occasional assistance of a Kal'Dorei blessed with the power to shape stone, the sprawling fortress was laid out in proper military fashion.
Huge obsidian spires jut upward, nearly breaking through the miles-thick earthen barrier which keeps it hidden from the rest of the world. Dug-deep below are spiraling thorns burrowed deep within the earth, holding it in place against the will of gravity and the ever-changing tides of the nearby seas.
Ten thousand years of insulation and preperation protect its inhabitants from outside interference. But, nothing protects them from the inner machinations of its citizenry. A Plague has befallen the last remnants of the pure-blooded ones. The Lords and Ladies who can claim the towering fortress by birth and by right.
And, so it is, that the last of a long-ago generation of heroes and heroines is drawn back into the world at war. In search of a cure of what plagues them, and the opportunity to reclaim their place among the other survivors of the Sundering, as a force to be reckoned with. This is Black Rook Hold, last bastion of the Lord's and Ladies of House Ravencrest.
Laeryn Moonshadow (Ravencrest)
A friend of mine has graciously provided a special present for me after I gave her a 'rough draft' of what I was going for with Lae. She said she can't do elves with her software yet, but, she'll update it when she gets that part figured out. Nonetheless, I'm blown away, and wanted to share.
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When One Door Closes....
She wore nothing extravagent as she gathered her worn leather ruck and slung it low over her left hip; its strap slung across her chest and over her right shoulder. Her expression was somber as a sigh slipped through the plump berry-black lips. Her luminous eyes seemed dimmer, somewhat. When she straightened and turned to face her companion, a pair of obsidian eyes peered up at her through the furry, furrowed brow of the Pandaren. It's concern was evident; though Shashen had been quite clear earlier in the evening: she did not want to remain in the Marquis' townhome anymore than their friend Amarris had.
A Conflict of Interests.
Shattrath City, Draenor:
The symbiotic tendrils shimmered along the mute Elunite's form, flowing down to partake of the hearty lifeforce of the powerful stormsaber beneath her. Long since used to the shocking presence of the preternatural entity, the beast appeared unphased by the sensation of ice and electricity cascading across its body.
Laeryn patted the creature's haunches as she looked up into the glowing eyes of her oldest friend and companion, Amarris Bearhide. Countless questions flit across her mind as she stared at the other Kal'Dorei, finally, her fingers moved apurpose to deliver one of those thoughts. Lady Ravencrest wishes for me to leave the Marquis?
The other Kal'Dorei nodded, once. The impassive features were telling, in and of themselves. Amarris was being guarded with someone she'd held no barrier up to for millennia. There was more to be said between the two.
What is it you see, when you see me?
The delicate form and features of the Elunite Priestess were all hidden beneath layer upon layer of fine silks and satins embroidered with ancient Kal'Dorei runes and wards. Her flesh was coated in a thin layer of a quasi-substantive symbiotic lifeform which flowed over and under each layer of cloth as it pooled beneath her feet as she hovered silently in the air. Her eyes were fixed on the figure of a Human man. He stood before a mailbox in the acrid-smelling, smoke-filled pathways of the Dwarven city of Ironforge.
The Sovereign Imparative Pt. 2
The ancient Kal'Dorei Priest moved forward, staring down on the haggered looking, auburn-haired, Dwarf from her perch atop her saber mount. She leaned back, her weight drawing the powerful feline to slow, and eventually stop.
She'd met few of the stalwart Dwarven people, but, this one appeared to hold a painful familiarity. The deepset eyes were buried amidst a sea of inner turmoil. His very soul was weary with deeds done and failed. The Priestess's heart ached. He has Kur'Talos' eyes. she thinks silently, her left hand floating up to cover her suddenly aching heart.
Something less than a gesture lifts her up out of the saddle, and leaves her hovering above the ground before the Dwarf. Something less than a glance sends the powerful saber off to hunt the nearby fauna.
The Sovereign Imperative
"Oi, Elf! Name's Rotimer! Lieutenant Rotimer. I've a keen eye fer the sturdier folk tha' wend dere way t'ere. An' yeh look teh be one o' dem! Y'mind teh give meh a moment'er two out o' yer day? I'm in deh bidness o' savin' lives and protectin' meh people's lands, an' I'm 'opin' ye're willing teh 'elp!"
The curious Dwarf spoke ardently to her, as if she held some reknown. She turned slowly, as if a faint breeze caused the graceful flow of her head toward him.
She stared down at the diminutive humanoid with a curious expression. Dwarves were still quite a new discovery for her, and she often regarded them for long periods.
They were very similar to the Pandaren. Small of stature, but, as large as any Kal'Dorei in heart and fire. And, also, the love for fine ales, meads, and any firewines that chanced upon their palets.
Better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it.
Ironforge. The Dwarven capital city. Ruled by King Magni Bronzebeard. These were innocuous facts she had been given by the Lady of Black Rook Hold when she directed the ancient Priestess to take herself to find a room to let among the Dwarves.
As her hippogryph drew near to the roost behind the flight master, the Kal'Dorei silently levitated from her perch astride the creature and remained hovering silently above.
As others arrived astride similar creatures, they turned to gawk at the hovering Kal'Dorei as violet and indigo tendrils of quasi-substantive shadows began to trail along her form, quelling even the faintest hint of flesh and generating an obscuring haze around her features.
Slowly, as if carried along on a wayward air current, she floated downward, remaining only a scant few feet above the ground.
