stormheardt-blog

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What ... is this? Have mercy.

keladrielravencrown

ocress

the ponysworn are almost complete

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Is Antem in a relationship? Anyone he has interest in?

The paladin lifts his eyes from a rather dilapidated book in the Cathedral Square to observe the stranger. After the question sinks in, he clears his throat to distract from the reddening face. “Well, I ... my duties tend to consume a lot of my time, and to be honest ... I don’t think a ‘High Chaplain’ is exactly something that’s much of a help in the dating field. I’m seen more as my position than seen as myself.”

A faint smile appears. “I don’t mind, though. If it’s meant to happen ...” His eyes trail back to his old book with musical notes inside and returns to memorization.

OOC: Antem isn’t in a relationship, mostly due to his recent partner’s player leaving the game and that relationship being retconned. Since making it to his current post in the Dawnsworn, he’s been hesitant to pursue the idea of a relationship with anyone. There’s just no right way for a guy as devout as he to come onto someone.

And before someone says it, no, he has not met a nice lady-penguin! 

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Me: “Alright guys we need to talk about this” Officer: “Okay.” Officer: “YOU GUYS WOKE ME UP”

Officer: “I hate all of you”

Officer: *inserts memes*

Me: “Wtf is going on honestly”

stormheardt asher-p-destriane themanwiththemagic keladrielravencrown littlelillylockswood sigridnaraan hugges2

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Waiting for the woman's arrival to her own home was a rigged weapon. The moment the door was opened, it would pull the trip wire to the rigged gun, aimed for whoever came through the front door, firing not one, but three rounds of bullets. On the floor was a note. 'Cease.'

There was a click as the padlock lifted, a high-pitched whine imparted by the wolf hound yearling who remained huddled in the corner with her tail between her legs. Odd, usually the wee thing would have been pawing at the door when the Inquisitor had returned from her duties and yet here she was shivering with her buttocks against the crux of the wall. Maybe thunder had rolled across the Vale earlier and rendered Birdy inconsolable. 

The Knight squinted through the slip with her hand remaining on the knob, her brow furrowed at Bridgett’s troubling behavior and was inclined to take a step into her room when all at once the first round fired off, a snap resounded at her feet. There was a flash of light that accompanied the crack of the hammer dropping, causing her opaque pupils to quickly dilate. Chipping splinters off the door frame, debris smacked the apple of her left cheek while the second clipped Sigrid’s shoulder plate for she had not yet fully entered. 

The shell bounced only to nestle itself into the wall above a flower vase perched on the end table, plaster splashing and tapering down to coat the lilac petals in a shower of ivory. Unfortunately, the third went straight through the oak prime– as she rushed to shut the door and brace herself against it, the bullet embedding in Sigrid’s breastplate along the profile, rattling and tearing. Bruising her flesh beneath the chain links on impact, she could feel the heat rise from the stilled projectile in which the breath of the gunpowder pooled in the hollow of her neck. She could not tell if it had managed to sunder the armor padding, but the pain was enough and the tell-tale diction of wet blood beginning to brim beneath her ribs where the skin had been split was hint enough that she had at least been minutely damaged even if it had not directly entered her body.

The barrel of the gun rattled as it rolled, vacant of ammunition and smoke coiled from the nose with a hiss. It grew deathly silent save for the yelps and frantic mewlings from the adolescent pup on the other side of the room. Sigrid swallowed, her chest rising and falling slowly as she grasped her side where the thorium had been cauterized. It ripped right through her plate mail as if it had been no more than paper and this caused a bit of alarm. 

Her jaw set taut as with a whistle of drawn steel she slowly pushed the door open and glanced down toward the tripwire which had been triggered, now no more than loose thread lazed on the floor like a snake soaking in the sun rays. 

Quickly, she stepped in and swept her gaze about the small office with a perturbed frown creasing her tiers. How did they get into the estate when it was heavily guarded and on the second floor? How did they even know where she lived? The questions wracked her shaken cranium and swilled inside akin to aged and tepid wine, but still she moved forward and sifted through only to dart toward the washroom and press her back parallel to the door frame. She inhaled sharply through her nostrils before peering around from the other side of the threshold to note it was clear, her amber hues flickering to all corners of the of the chamber. Canting her head, she pivoted her head on a swivel and noted the opposing wall where her bed was situated under the window sill which was no longer closed. Shards of glass were sprinkled along her strewn and unkempt bed sheets, taking notice that someone had stepped through after lifting the latch and left vague impressions of their soles in the mattress which had by now been decompressed due to the eventual adjustment of the springs. The meager space under the bed was shallow and even her own dog could barely fit under it. 

Had the maids come by to let Bridgett out? It did not appear anything had been touched or tidied up in the slightest…

It was possible that they walked in on the criminal and were threatened to back out of the room or they were late in making their rounds which was a more likely scenario. Either way, she will have questions for them soon enough. Reluctant to sheathe her sword, she at least lowered it when the coals ignited in the pit of her belly and fear traipsed white behind her disoriented eyeballs. 

The files. 

Most of them were kept with the Scholars under lock and key, but there were a few that she kept in her desk. She stormed over and pulled out her set of keys, twisting and pulling the drawer open when a click was heard. She lurched back just in case her desk was rigged, but surprisingly nothing had been touched and much to her relief, neither had the files. Or at least she thought. She pulled them out, flipping through the vellum and accounted for everything before tucking the folder under the crook of her arm then knelt further to inspect the lock to see if it had tampered. Clean; no ruts, no scars or signs of forced entry.

It seemed evident the assailant was not particularly interested in the case, but perhaps Dalleger was correct in assuming this had to do with the treaty signing. Ignorant, uneducated, zealous and puffed up miscreants…

When she heard a startled gasp, Sigrid’s head snapped up to peer over the miscellaneous contents of her desk (Namely stacks upon stacks of papers near her inbox), her twin embers widening incrementally though settled when she saw one of the handmaidens. Her hand covered her gaping mouth and her fingers were curled along the doorknob to keep herself from crumpling when she appeared faint.

“What happened?” She stated more-so than inquired, taking another step further when her foot crunched the parchment resting on the floor. Sigrid watched as the elf canted her head and blinked owlishly before she slowly knelt down. “And what’s this…?”

“Don’t touch that. It’s going to be evidence. Get the Duchess and the Marshal. NOW! We are gathering all the heads in the estate. We have something to discuss.” The Lieutenant-Commander announced firmly and much too quickly got to her feet after languidly gesturing for the woman to hurry off. She doubled over slightly, dropping her blade which then clattered to the ground and motioned with her freed sword arm to grasp her wound. Her free hand braced with splayed digits against the polished grain of her desk, eliciting a pained groan.

“But you’re hurt-” The handmaiden all but shrieked, but the addendum was promptly derailed when Sigrid screamed, an uncharacteristic and sheltered rage brumous in those tempestuous orbs. It swelled as storm clouds would billow forth across a darkening skyline and the words erupted with a shrill rasp from her girded diaphragm:

“GET OUT AND FIND THEM DAMMIT!”

The High Elf’s lips quivered, not sure if she should be anxious in regards to the Gilnean or the grisly scene that could have resulted in possible execution, but she spun on a heel with a nod and said nothing further before she glided down the hallway with ethereal elegance to summon the others.

All the while, the Shepherdess reclined to rescind into the manchette of her chair, rolling her head back when the seat complained under the added weight. As she hooked her arms about her frame and cradled the collected files to her bosom, a hiss escaped through clenched teeth followed by a sigh. She was going to have to start keeping a tally; after all, if they want to play games, she wouldn’t mind adding a few rules of her own. The corners of her lips twitched and a forced, morose chuckle bubbled in the hearth of her throat. 

Tentatively, Bridgett began to wobble as she rose to her feet and slowly padded over to slink between her peer’s boots and rest her muzzle atop Sigrid’s concealed toes, but the wolfhound’s injured owner made no move to console the creature immediately. The ire burned luminously with is licking flames travelling along the militant’s sternum, but like her dog, she dare not coddle it ‘lest she want to stoke the fire to fuel darker ambition. And she was taught better.

“That was cute…”

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(( Those of you who replied to prompts, I know it’s not very imaginative, but thank you. A lot of times at work, I look forward to seeing responses when I’m bored. ))

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GUESS THAT MEANS YOURE THE OTHER PENGUIN, AEL.

I'll call you ... Aelquin. The staring penguin.

they do, for the record. 

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IC: A passing penguin sympathizes with its burned comrade and appropriately applies cold water.

OOC: We retconned that when she quit the game! Dork. :p

Hot damn! .... Wark.

“Penguins are not appealing to me, High Chaplain.”

OOC; She rates Hohenheim at a 6/10 because he boinked her sister. Oop. stormheardt

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Hot damn c;

Hohenheim always hated it when someone asked him that sort of question, but the bartender at the Blue Recluse was in one of those moods, it seemed. A sigh escaped the paladin before he settled his small cup of tea back to a saucer on the hardwood.

“Jheri ... that’s a tough one. Physically, she’s an incredibly attractive young woman, and I’m sure she’s reminded of that by every man she meets, but ... I don’t think any of them know her how I do. Or at least used to. I’m unsure about now.” After a moment, he realized he hadn’t answered the question. “Not that I enjoy assigning numbers, but she’s a fair eight. She has a knack for ribbing me in a way that embarrasses me.”

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/victory

<3 you, Sig.

FMK: Antem, Keladriel, Phyrae

It’s been awhile since I received one of these, so I will answer as best  I can to my ability.

F: Phyrae. This isn’t at the top of Sig’s priority list if it’s even on there to begin with, but she would be the most likely candidate for this. I can’t say I know the character as well as I should, however, but she and Sig share some uncanny characteristics.

M: Antem. She’s known him for a long time, though she has kept him at arm’s length. He would be the most likely candidate out of the three for this option if only on the basis of trust and morality. And if she wasn’t already married to her work.

K: Keladriel. The man’s anger would inevitably get him into a lot of trouble and if he goes rogue on a project, she might have to put him down so his deadly focus doesn’t bring others to harm. Fortunately, this is only theoretic, but he would be the most applicable for this option compared to the other two due to his tempestuous nature. That and he’d break her in the other two options. It’s just… sorry, anatomically I don’t see it ending well for her.

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« : memory from the past with your character

    Argent Tournament Grounds: Fond Memories of a Hard Ass Teacher

     It had been a short, hard shock to the system. Like thunder had spawned in his rib cage before every nerve and synapse under Hohenheim’s skin exploded. To say his breathing was labored would falsely indicate he could even feel whether he was taking in air or not. The mounted knight could hear a strange noise in the air before the ground came rushing up to greet him and his horse continued racing down the track. Later, it turned out that Hohenheim’s fellow students had been yelling “Ooooh!”

     “Someone check on him,” A female voice rang out from under the helmet of the armor-clad rider that had dismounted him with her lance. 

     “Light, Hohenheim, you leaned right into that!” The downed knight could hear as his senses began to return to him. He could feel his helmet being tugged on before it came free and the sun greeted his unprepared eyes. With help from his fellow students, Hohenheim was pulled unsteadily to his feet before those emerald hues rose to find the teacher who had so thoroughly humbled him.

     The helmet of his opponent was pulled of, revealing a mess of silvery tresses and amber eyes. “Stormheardt!” Instructor Sigrid Naraan barked out before hopping down from her horse.

     At that moment, Hohenheim was unsure if getting up had been a waste of time. She may very well put him back on it.

     Instructor Naraan strode right up to Hohenheim, having to look a bit upward at the tall knight, but it didn’t do a thing to help him from feeling intimidated. “Just what do you think you’re doing up there? You present a target that a squire could hit, every time! You’ve not dismounted me even once, or broken your lance.” To be fair, nobody had managed to dismount her. At least nobody in this class.

     “Apologies, Instructor. I ... nngh,” Talking was still painful. Hohenheim had rather poorly-constructed armor, indicative of his meager beginnings. Even now, whatever compensation was being offered by the Argents always was donated back to the orphanage or Northshire. 

     “Break class for the evening. Someone drag him to the infirmary before he ends up passing out,” Sigrid more casually instructed, a sigh escaping her lips as her students all trudged off to grab chow and tend their comrade’s dazed stupor. Once none had their eyes on her, she lifted her left arm a few inches, gazing at a blemish across the immaculately polished armor. Hohenheim’s lance had grazed her, and had very nearly broken. He leaned into it on purpose. Did he try to compensate for our difference in skill by making a suicide run? 

(( First time anyone’s sent me a Tumblr prompt! Thank you, sigridnaraan! Hope it’s ok! :D))

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Scream: My character has caused yours to scream out for some reason Headache: How my character will take care of yours when they have a headache Expecting: Our characters find out they are expecting a child together Milkshake:...

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Reblog if you want Anons to tell you who they ship you with and why.

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(( APPROVED! <333 ))

Hot DAMN.

Hoenheim has the sort of looks that Mir feels many of the heroes in her books would have; long flowing hair, chiseled features, dark tortured gaze, etc etc etc.

He also has the gentlemanly charm that all knights should have; polite, kind and honorable, even to a fault.

9/10 totes.

[stormheardt-blog]

[ A very descriptive and detailed profile of your muse ]

Tagged by: sigridnaraan 

Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc.

If you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own! When you’re done, tag 15 other people to do the same!

NAME: Hohenheim “Antem” Stormheardt

AGE: 28

SPECIES: Human (Kul Tiran)

GENDER: Male

CLASS: Paladin

BIRTHPLACE: On a ship off the eastern coast of Kalimdor

BIRTH: Early July.

SIGN: N/A

MARITAL STATUS: Single

PROFESSION(S):  As of now, his duties revolve around the High Chaplain position of the Dawnsworn Covenant, offering guidance to those who seek to further their knowledge of the Light. He doesn’t say it often, but he feel entirely unworthy for the position, as he’s had a bit of a self-esteem struggle since the duties he carried out before he came to the Covenant.

Prior to his position among the Covenant, Hohenheim was a servant to the nobility, and sometimes the Cathedral, of Stormwind. He’d been brought from Kul Tiran lands to Northshire as an infant with that task already in mind by his caretakers.

RESIDENCES: Currently, he’s staying in Northshire Abbey. He has the resources to find his own home away from the Abbey, but he’s constantly ensuring the welfare of the young ones in training, there.

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{ PHYSICAL FEATURES}

APPEARANCE:

HAIR: Blonde hair that normally is pulled back in a pony tail, but lately has been allowed to take a bit more of a messy appearance. Whether that is due to trying new things, or being called “pony tail” too many times, is anyone’s guess.

EYES: Emerald

SKIN: A light tan.

HEIGHT: 6′3″

WEIGHT: 210

OTHER: Under Hohenheim’s left arm, across the rib cage, is a large tattoo of a rosary with thorn-covered vines entangling it. He’s never told anyone the significance of that tattoo, largely due to hardly anyone seeing him out of his armor or clothing. The true significance is that he was told as a child that any who are truly devoted in their service bear a mark on their body so they may never deny it.

With that in mind, Hohenheim would one day bear a rosary, signifying his faith, and thorns to warn any who would try and take it away from him.

{ FAMILY }

SIBLINGS: One brother, Heimdall Stormheardt, who is a sort of black sheep to the family. And one yet-undiscovered sister.

PARENTS (deceased): Father: Tichorius Stormheardt (biological)

Mother: Erinee Stormheardt (biological)

ACQUAINTANCES/FRIENDS: Aelorelle Dawnsworn (thedawnsworncovenant): She brought Hohenheim officially into the Dawnsworn after having met a few times. She’s made it a habit to indulge Hohenheim in his fear of polymorphing and turned him into a penguin. Hohenheim still has the nightmares. 

Thelandin Tairneanach (keladrielravencrown): Brothers in the Light and the Dawnsworn, these two are thick as thieves. Broladins. ‘Nuf said.

Sigrid Naraan (sigridnaraan): Hohenheim holds the deepest of respects for Sigrid, due to her devotion to her comrades, as well as her appropriate character. In instances that require humility, she’s demonstrated she can be, but when a time comes to break off a metal boot in someone’s posterior .....

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{ LIKES }

COLORS: Green, white, gold.

SMELLS: The smell of the sea. There’s nothing like it.

FOOD: Properly smoked deer chops. Almost any vegetable, save for carrots. That’s for the horse. As of late, he has acquired a taste for penguin BBQ. 

DRINKS: Tea. Any brew of tea. If it’s technically tea, Hohenheim will technically love you forever.

ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES?: Rarely. He’s never made a good decision when alcohol enters the picture. Ever.

Favorites? When he does indulge .... bourbon.

—————————————————————————-

               {DISLIKES}

SMELLS: Cologne that is overpowering, fel residue and wet worgen.

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{ TRAITS }

—— POSITIVE —— (Keeping it simple.)

1.) Humble

2.) Loyal

3.) Generous

—— NEGATIVE —— (Keeping it simple.)

1.) Naive ( He tries to see the best of people. Doesn’t always work out. )

2.) Pacifist ( By this, I mean it would take an act of cosmic power for him to kill someone. He doesn’t oppose the fight, he opposes killing an opponent. Being unable to defeat an opponent without killing him/her is a sign of mediocre swordsmanship, to him.)

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(( Finally did one of these. As you can see, I finally settled on an FC, mostly due to the hair. The profile had to be cut a bit short, because I wanted some things to come out in roleplay! <3 ))

#thedawnsworncovenant #Aelorelle #Thelandin #Sigrid #profile

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(( I dunno how "hardly" autocorrected to "Hartley". Damn phone.

BUT IT IS I! ))

(( Points if you guess who the father of the child is supposed to be. )) A young girl, Hartley the age of seven, sits on the edge of the fountain behind the cathedral of Stormwind. In her light green sundress, matching her emerald eyes, the young girl becomes a young brat when she sees her mother, Ottavia, walking up the path to her. There's a small bounce as the child puts on her best pout, pointing at the Cathedral. "Papa has been in devotions all day ..." Beside the girl rests a tea cup.

(Thil or Arthur! Did I win? Also? Beautifully written! :D)

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“Anar’alah Belore.” The Dawnsworn Covenant has opened its doors to recruitment!

“The Dawnsworn Covenant is a conglomerate of Alliance races bound by oath and a sense of unity under the banner of Duchess Aelorelle Dawnsworn, the Duchess of the Dawn’s Rest and the Grand Mistress of the Dawnsworn Covenant. The Covenant has several purposes: to preserve and study the unique cultures of the Alliance peoples, to mentor and guide, to give alms to those left orphaned, widowed and without a home by the conflicts of Azeroth, and to take up arms against any threat to the Grand Alliance.”

What is “The Dawnsworn Covenant?”

The Dawnsworn Covenant is a guild (Wyrmrest Accord: Alliance) comprised of colorful characters and diveristy united and driven by the philanthropist goals of high elf matriarch, Aelorelle Dawnsworn. The Covenant can be considered a “do-all” guild, housing varying divisions for the sake of catering to different roleplay that is commonly sought. Why do we do this? To bring people with differing roleplay preferences together. Said divisions are listed below –

[The Dawn Battalion] - The Dawn Battalion is the military force of the Dawnsworn Covenant. Lieutenant Commander Sigrid Naraan is the C.O. of the entirety of the Dawn Battalion. Chosen for her combat prowess and austerity, she orders the melee forces of the Dawn Battalion, but the entirety of the Dawn Battalion forces will not move unless by her command. The Dawn Battalion is comprised of its own Ranger Company with Ranger-Warden Keladriel Ravencrown at the helm. The Dawn Battalion is also pleased to announce its RP-PVP division: “Might of the Lioness!” This is a squad of soldiers who have proven themselves competent and stalwart in the face of adversity, led by Knight-Champion Dominick Parker and the “Lady of the Lance,” Marshal Rosalyn Proudhymn. (Yes, we will help you gear and even learn your class!)

[The Sanctified] -  The Sanctified are the spiritual amongst us who strive for a life of righteous piety. Some worship the Light, others Elune. They guide us in prayer and offer healing of the soul when we are otherwise weakened or pained. The High Chaplain of the Sanctified is the speaker of those who worship the Light. The current presiding High Chaplain is Sir Hohenheim Stormheardt. The Sanctified are tasked with holding sermons and becoming members of the Church of the Light, while Elune worshippers are tasked with joining the Sisterhood of Elune.

[Vale Scholars] - The Vale Scholars are the non-combatives of the Covenant, a division filled to the brim with a score of mathematicians, scientists, articifers and philosophers. The funding for their research comes from the coin of the Duchess herself, who has an interest in their dabbling and insatiable curiosity in whatever secrets they may unlock. They are the go-to for solving riddles, studying artifacts and histories, inventions and tinkering. 

[Lady’s Retinue] - This is a sect more suited for those interested in “house RP.” Handmaidens, stewards, seneschals and companions would normally apply for this rank. The presiding matriarch or patriarch of their noble house might also be sorted into this rank to work closely with Duchess Dawnsworn to sort affairs of state or to take their house into the Covenant itself.

FAQ

Are you a high elf guild? Yes, and we are more than willing to help people involve themselves with Quel’dorei roleplay.

Are you active? Yes, very much so! Several people are online everyday and the officers work closely with the GM to establish storylines and pump out events for all of the guild to participate in.

How does someone get promoted in the guild? Activity, participation in storylines and events and overall being a helpful guildmate to your fellow Dawnsworn.

Do you raid? No, at the moment our focus is building our RBG team, but we do have plans to assemble a raid group for people who want to progress through PvE content.

Fun Facts!

We have a working mumble which is filled with people daily!

We often run BGs to help people gear for PVP, as well as Ashran groups with each other.

An officer or two is almost always on, if you have a problem that needs to be brought up.

We will sometimes have a spur-of-the-moment “Mumble Karaoke Night.” Seriously. Check it out.

We do our best to introduce enthralling plot-lines and weekly guild events.

Our officers and GM are very much willing to talk to you about your problems. You matter to us, really.

People can pitch ideas for plot-lines/events in a thread on our website!

Who to contact:

sigridnaraan​ keladrielravencrown​ asher-p-destriane​ themanwiththemagic stormheardt hugges2 littlelillylockswood 

Where to apply:

http://thedawnsworn.shivtr.com/

We hope to one day count you as “one of the Dawnsworn!”