#Lyyn Auroran

[lordaeronslost]

Wrinkles

“Da, did Mathair write to Quel’thalas about this?”

Sam Auroran looked up from the scattered papers on the desk, brows knitting as he regarded his younger daughter.  Karinlyyn stood a few feet away, an unfolded letter in her hand, the envelope tucked between her fingers bearing the seal of the Argent Crusade.  If she had been in a dress instead of the gray leathers, it would have been like looking at both of his daughters at once.  “No,” he said slowly.  “Your mother hasn’t written to anyone there since—hell.  I think since your cousin’s wife had their last child.”

She nodded slowly, frowning at the letter in her hands, violet eyes skipping over the page again as she read it a second time, then again.

Sam drew himself up straighter.  “Why?”

“Do you know if the Crusade reached out to anyone that might have served with them?”

He didn’t like the strange note in her voice.  The elder Auroran rounded the table, moving toward where his daughter stood just shy of a patch of sunlight that streamed through the windows at their townhouse in Dalaran—their primary home these days, with Lordaeron long lost and Theramore gone.  “Lyyn.”

Her gaze flicked up from the letter, regarding her father with a quiet, probing gaze.  “Do you?”

“Everyone I’ve spoken to—everyone that you and Anthus have spoken to for that matter—have been fairly firm about keeping it quiet and refusing to send  another contingent for fear of panic.  Three units in a matter of weeks without warning?  There hasn’t been anything quite like that since the war.”

She didn’t ask which war.  It didn’t matter.  Her gaze drifted back to the page.  “If no one is supposed to know and no one reached out from the Crusade, then why are there being inquiries made by someone else?”

“Who?”

She relinquished the letter to him, starting to pace as he scanned the missive, getting the gist.  His mouth soured, stomach twisting.

“Do you know these names?” He asked.

“Yes,” she said, leaning against the windowsill and staring out at the courtyard below where her husband did his best to keep their nieces and nephews distracted from everything going on.  Her daughter’s laughter echoed off the walls, cheering on her eldest cousin as he squared off against his uncle with practice swords.

Sam waited, but she didn’t seem inclined to elaborate.  He exhaled.  “Lyyn.”

“You know them, too,” she said.

“Not quite the way you do, I imagine,” he said quietly.  “You serve with them?”

“That is a complicated question, Da.”

The ghost of a smile curved his lips for a second before it was gone.  “I meant in the Crusade.”

“It was the Dawn, then,” she said.  “Grimstryke and Brightborn, yes.  Cieltus I knew by reputation.  It was at Light’s Hope, mostly.”

“Strike forces?”

She shook her head.  “Usually not but every so often they’d deploy a combat medic with us.”

Sam nodded slowly.  “But that doesn’t solve our mystery, does it?”

“If Mathair had written—”

“But she didn’t, like I said, not since his wife had their son.  Grimstryke must have found out another way.”

Sam sank down into one of the heavy leather reading chairs near the window.  “Then how?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.  “I know Anny hasn’t written to anyone in Quel’thalas.  I haven’t had contact since the incident here a couple of months ago, but that was before any of this happened.  I hadn’t heard even a whisper since.”

Sam frowned, glancing toward the window.  “Then how would they know to make inquiries?”

“Perhaps it’s nothing,” she murmured.  “Perhaps it’s—hell.  Coincidence.  Grimstryke’s well-placed, it could just be something he caught a rumor about and pressed on.  The other two are associates of his.  It would track.”

“Does it really feel like it’s nothing?”  Sam glanced up at her with an arched brow.

Karinlyyn exhaled a sigh and leaned against the sill.  “No.  No, it doesn’t.”

Sam simply nodded, gaze drifting toward the window.  “Then I’ll leave it to you.”

“Another wrinkle,” his daughter murmured, taking the letter back.

“There always is,” he said, smiling reassuringly, the expression lingering for only a few seconds before it faded.  “We’ll find them.”

“Of course we will,” she said softly, folding up the letter and tucking it into her leathers.  “We don’t have a choice.”

#Lyyn Auroran #Karinlyyn Ilgrey #Lyyn Ilgrey #Karinlyyn Auroran Steelshatter #Samuel Auroran #Argent Crusade #World of Warcraft #WoW #Sam Auroran #Tyrvarden Grimstryke #Luthraes Brightborn #Amaris Cieltus #Argents Lost #cross-faction #storytelling #rp #fiction

[wynilthyrii]

Modern/UNSETIC AU for Wyn Ilthyrii

[A little snippet of Wyn Ilthyrii with her--and Lyyn Auroran--as characters in my UNSETIC Files universe, which is a modern day universe with a few twists.  Enjoy!]

She cultivated boredom as if it were an art form, seated at the bar in her little black dress, a little girl lost from Wall Street or Park Avenue slumming it on the outskirts of Spanish Harlem.  She glanced discreetly toward the door and barely managed to keep one side of her mouth from curling up toward a satisfied smile.  Instead, she lifted the glass of whiskey she’d been nursing for the last forty-five minutes and murmured, “Target acquired.  Moving in.”

 Her handler’s voice crackled in her ear, soft and urgent.  “Negative, negative.  Do not engage.”

 Gloriana blinked, stopping herself from jerking her glass away at the last second.  She took a sip, letting the whiskey pool on her tongue, the burn pleasant.  She swallowed, then murmured, “What do you mean?  We’ve been waiting for this for days.  I have a shot.”

 “Lead says pull back. Extract, now.”

 She breathed a curse under her breath and drained her glass.  A smile at the bartender and a twenty in his glass later, she was out on the street, striding quickly along the wet pavement to the club across the street, music already flowing and the crowds growing.  Flashing her VIP badge, she skipped the line and forged deeper, bypassing the long metal bar when she saw her new quarry wasn’t behind it, just her favorite dark-haired, too-pretty Aussie with the very, very white teeth.

 He grinned when he spotted her, making eye contact only briefly before he turned to fetch one of the regulars her drink.

 Gloriana wasn’t sure why he stuck around, but she was junior enough that asking that particular question hadn’t seemed like a good idea just yet.

 She bounded up the stairs behind the bar and cross the catwalk toward the “Staff Only” door in the corner.  She swiped that same VIP badge in the slot and shouldered her way inside, her expression like a nor’easter coming in off the Atlantic.

 “Lyyn, what the freaking hell is going on?”

 Her handler snapped her laptop closed, standing up and removing her headset.  “Y’know, I owe Gabe a drink now.  He said you’d be in here inside of four minutes.  I said you’d at least get some change from your drink first.”

 “I’m going to expense it anyway.  Now what the hell’s going on?  Who pulled the plug?”

 “Colonel McConaway.”

 “That bastard doesn’t—”

 “On Commander O’Connell’s orders,” Lyyn continued.  She came around the desk to put her hands on her friend’s arms.  “Settle down.  There’s got to be a reason for this.  That woman doesn’t do anything without a reason.”

 “That bastard’s connected to the people who killed my family, Lyyn.  This is personal.”

 “I know that,” Lyyn said softly.  “And so does she.  We’ll nail them, Glory.  It’s what we do.”

 “Right,” she whispered, looking away.  She could still feel a burn at the back of her throat, but it wasn’t whiskey, not at all. “Where is she?”

 “Stepped out.  Not sure when she’ll be back.  Gabe might know where she went.”  The red-head arched a brow.  “Why?”

 Gloriana took the slender throwing knives out of her hair, letting platinum blonde locks slip free of their elaborate bun.  “Never mind,” she said softly.  “It’s not important right now.  Like you said, she had good reason.  Hopefully she’ll see fit to tell me what it was.”

 “We’ll get them, Glory.”

 “You said that and I acknowledged it.”  Gloriana squeezed her eyes shut.  “I need to change my clothes.  This dress is killing me and I would kill for a cheeseburger right now.”

 “My treat, then.” Lyyn squeezed her shoulder.  “Go change.  I’ll get my coat.”

 Gloriana nodded, though she lingered for a moment before turning to head off to get out of that damned dress and the wire she was wearing.  Whatever reason Brigid O’Connell had for calling her off, it had better be a damned good one—otherwise, there was going to be hell to pay.

 One way or another, she’d have justice for her family.

 Even if she had to get it from the wrong side of the law.

#Modern AU #UNSETIC FIles AU #Wyn Ilthyrii #Lyyn Auroran #Sable Vanguard prompt #because why not #Brigid O'Connell #Tim McConaway

[lordaeronslost]

A letter to Cord Embersong

This letter is hastily scrawled, but in a familiar hand, in sepia ink on good parchment.  It is sealed with plain gray wax.

Today is not that day.

Worried.

What the actual fuck?

You know what they call a snake that eats its own tail?

An ouroboros.

Do you know what it means?

Infinity.

Wholeness.

Don’t give up, my dear friend.  Never give up.

Ghost.

There’s a sketch at the bottom of the page -- more of a doodle, really -- of him with a blanket over his shoulders and a mug of coffee cradled in both hands.

[ @darlingknave ]

#cross-faction rp #Ghost #Cord #Ghost and Cord #Lyyn Auroran #WrA #Wyrmrest Accord #WoW #World of Warcraft #Alliance and Horde #across the lines #Cord Embersong #ouroboros #spy games

[lordaeronslost]

A letter to Cord Embersong - 29 July

This letter is written hastily on good parchment in sepia ink. In the right hand margin is a charcoal sketch of a long vial, sealed with some kind of wax.  Bright green ink colors whatever liquid is inside the sketched vial.  The letter is sealed in plain gray wax.

 Darling –

The bitch is up to old games.  We’re sure of it.  Stay away from Undercity.

STAY AWAY FROM LORDAERON.

Stay safe and don’t play her games, don’t dance to her tune.

Stay safe.

Stay alive.

Stay away from there. Stay away.  I don’t know what exactly the bitch has in store but it’s not good.  Shit like this is never good.

Stumbled over a wagon en route through Alterac to Undercity.  I think you can guess what we found in four crates inside.

Think of the event that the world can never forget, what happened in Northrend years ago.

Stay safe.  Stay alive.

Please.

 Ghost.

[ @darlingknave]

#cross-faction #cross-faction RP #Lyyn just had an oh shit moment - several in fact #World of Warcraft #Servitors of Lothar #RP #event fallout #WrA #Lyyn Auroran #Ghost and Cord #Cord Embersong #Alliance and Horde #Wyrmrest Accord #WoW #spy games

[lordaeronslost]

A letter to Cord Embersong - 10 July

This letter is written on a half-sheet of good parchment in sepia ink.  It is sealed with unmarked gray wax.

Darling,

I got your letter—thanks for letting me know you’re all right, or at least as all right as it gets. The warning about Will is well-taken and makes me feel like maybe my distrust of him was somehow justified, even though it may well be after the fact.  I’m sorry about Ace and the baby.  My heart aches for and with you.  If there’s anything I can do, let me know.

Stuff’s quiet on my end beyond the usual ruckus that I’m sure you’re aware of.  I’ll stay away from the basin—I’m mostly in the Kingdoms these days anyway, in a uniform, doing that sort of work.  Once and always a ghost, right?  People look and either don’t see or only see what they want to see.

Since you got the last letter, I’m guessing you found a soft place to fall and it has something to do with my cousin—not a bad thing if you ask me.  I can think of far worse people to fall in with.  I’m glad to hear from you, regardless.  Not sure where what’s coming is going to take me from here, but I hope it doesn’t end with our daggers at each others’ throats.  Honor among and all that jazz.

I haven’t told anyone, not everything, and I don’t think I ever will.

Be safe.

 - Ghost.

[@darlingknave]

#letters #cross-faction #RP #World of Warcraft #Lyyn Auroran #Cord Embersong #Karinlyyn Ilgrey #Wyrmrest Accord #WrA #WoW #Alliance and Horde #Honor among sneaks #Ghost and Cord

[lordaeronslost]

What Once Was Broken

Lyyn stood at the back of the crowded meeting room, blending in with the other aides and staff officers as time dwindled down toward the beginning of another round of Command meetings, ones that seemed to go on endlessly from dawn until dusk and sometimes deep into the night.  The appearance of Argus in the skies over Azeroth had done nothing if not whipped the Alliance military into a greater frenzy, one unlike any she could ever remember seeing—even the Cataclysm hadn’t been this bad.  The spy hid in plain sight, dressed in the uniform of a unit of Theramore Irregulars, purportedly an aide to Colonel Nathan Terrace—which she had been in the past, albeit as an agent of her father, now years ago.

“I need quiet in this chamber,” the voice of one of aides-de-camp from Command called from the front of the chamber.  “Quiet in the chamber.  Please find your seats so we can begin.”

The cacophony of voices died down to a quiet murmur, then down to nothing but the sound of scraping chairs and shuffling papers as the assembled found their way to their appointed places—the officers commanding battalions and better at the table, others in the gallery above, and then the aides like her clustered around the walls, notepads and recording implements ready.  It was after their brief mid-morning break and would be hours before they broke for lunch if this followed the usual path of the last few days. Lyyn had managed to gather a bit of information from the meetings—but nowhere near what she’d hoped.

They barely know more than us.  Thank the goddess that Quin’s got my sister’s ear and is getting what the Kirin Tor know out of her.  Her jaw set. If the Alliance and the Kirin Tor didn’t end up on the same page—

Leaving aside the Horde entirely.  This is a fight for all of us, not just one side or the other. We all die together regardless of who hates whom.

There hadn’t been word from Whisper in months and it worried her.

“Sergeant Tulliver, if you please?”

Lyyn blinked, glancing toward the side of the room and the set of small double doors guarded by the sergeant-at-arms who’d been addressed.  The young man gave a short nod and reached for the doors.

“Yes, sir.”

The door swung open and in strode the last person Lyyn expected to see in the chamber.

Jude swept in as regal as a queen, dressed in the dark blue robes of a Kirin Tor battle mage and the darker still tabard of the old Argent Dawn, its silver and gold sun device stark against the blue-black weave of the fabric.  Her decorations for valor and bravery—among other things—were fastened to her pauldrons in the Kirin Tor style.  Her hood was up—also in the Kirin Tor style—though Lyyn could see her sister’s eyes flash dangerously as she strode toward the front of the room.  A few of the officers at the table stiffened, as if surprised—or afraid of what the mage’s presence represented.

She stopped at the foot of the dais where the highest ranking marshals and generals of the Alliance were seated—those that weren’t in the field with their commands—and lifted her chin even as she lowered her hood, flame-red hair spilling over her shoulders. “Present as requested, gentlemen.”

One of the marshals leaned forward, his gaze penetrating, focused.  “Judean Auroran, Viscountess Greymantle.  Unit commander, Argent Crusade.  Kirin Tor battle mage battalion leader.  Former Chancellor of the Retribution of Arathor, a unit of Alliance irregulars commissioned during the leadership of Magni Bronzebeard in the years after the Third War, decommissioned two weeks after the fall of Theramore.  Involved in the campaigns in Outland, Northrend, and against Deathwing.  Present at the defense—and evacuation—of Theramore.”

Jude regarded him with a long, cold look.  “Yes,” she said simply.

“There is a proposal that has been brought forth within High Command that your unit be recommissioned that you be awarded the rank of full Commander and all the rights and privileges involved.  You will retain autonomy over the decisions for your unit and undertake missions and assignments as you see fit but will have all the authority, rights, and responsibilities of a unit of Alliance irregulars.”

Lyyn pressed her spine against the wall, her stomach dropping.

She wouldn’t—would she?

Jude was silent for a few long moments.  “I see. And when was High Command intending to inform me of this proposal?”

“We are informing you of it now,” another of the marshals said.

“That you are,” Jude said, her voice low and deadly.  “In front of half of Command and their staffs, you inform a military leader that maybe, just maybe, you intend to recommission her unit, one that was utterly shattered by a singular tragedy, one whose members are now long retired or reassigned. I imagine that you expect me to reform a unit of the same effectiveness and fighting strength as before, correct?”

“That was our hope,” the second marshal said.

The mage’s eyes flashed. “Perhaps you hope in vain.  It would not be as you imagine it would be.”

“Not all of us are under the same illusion, Viscountess,” the first marshal said quietly.  “You can trust in that.”

“Can I?”

He nodded, once.  “Yes.  Yes, you can.”

“Very well,” Jude said. “But I think you realize that this is not a decision I can make lightly or without full knowledge of what is expected. Please send a copy of the proposal including all addendums by courier to Dalaran as quickly as possible.  I will review the proposal and provide you with my answer.”  She gave them a sharp nod, her shoulders square.  “Good-day, gentlemen.”

With that, she pivoted on her heel and walked out, lifting her hood as she went, leaving the assembly in stunned silence in her wake.

OOC note:

Anyone may feel free to respond or react to this that would have a way of hearing about it.  It’s the beginning of something larger for Jude Auroran, a military commander still wrestling with some demons of her past--and what her future might hold.  Trying to get a little more RP rolling for the Soldier of Seeker, Soldier, Spies and this seemed like a good option.  Available on Tumblr here or in game upon request unless you see me online, then just poke me!

#Lyyn Ilgrey #Jude Auroran #Alliance Command #WrA #World of Warcraft #Retribution of Arathor #storyline things #RP #Open rp #Alliance #Kirin Tor #Argent Crusade #Alliance military

[lordaeronslost]

Playing the messenger

The news--all of it--could wait until later.

She felt oddly numb as she came back into their apartment at the Auroran holdings in Dalaran, trying to sort out all the messages she was supposed to relay.  Lyyn shrugged out of her cloak and hung it by the door, tugging the pins from her hair and letting it slip free of the bun she usually kept it up in--easier to keep it in her hood that way.  The place was quiet, but that didn’t mean anything.  They’d both been asleep when she’d left.  He’d probably have ink all over his face unless he’d awoken sometime after falling asleep at the desk.  She hadn’t had the heart to wake him, though.  The nightmares had been waking them both more often than their daughter had been and she knew that he suffered worse than her--after all, the nightmares were his.

Tell him she’s sorry.  Tell him about M.  Tell him about the lava bath half the unit took.  Tell him about the fucking fel reaver.  Tell him--

Lyyn closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled quietly.

“I’ll tell him whatever the hell I decide to tell him,” she muttered.  “Depends on how this all goes.”  She took a deep breath and raised her voice slightly.  “A’mael?  I’m home.  You awake?”

There was no answer.

With a quiet sigh, she headed for the bedroom, her tread silent as usual.  Passing through the sitting room, there was no sign of either of them except for his guitar and a packet of extra strings on the table.

The door to the bedroom swung open silently on oiled hinges and Lyyn smiled at the sight beyond it.

There they both were, father and infant daughter, fast asleep in the rocking chair near the window.  Anthus’s head was canted to the side, his body relaxed and his flesh and blood hand resting against baby Skybrooke’s back as she lay on his chest, her expression smooth and precious in dreams.  Lyyn lingered near the door for a moment, just staring at them, before she eased deeper into the room.  She crossed to the chair and leaned down to kiss her sleeping baby, then to gently kiss her husband’s temple.

“Sweet dreams, a’mael,” she whispered.

[Mentions: @steelshatter; @mindspanner; @shadewhisper]

#Lyyn Ilgrey #Anthus Steelshatter #World of Warcraft #WrA #SoL #Shenanigans #Quiet fluff #Skybrooke Olivia Steelshatter #Servitors of Lothar #RP #Wyrmrest Accord #Fluff #Family time #Sleepy baby

[lordaeronslost]

++ Jude, ++ Quin, ++ Lyyn, ++ Arc

For Jude:

Jude likes ferrets.  They’re just not necessarily all that practical.

Her favorite color is blue.

For Quin:

Quin’s dad had actually given Tanith Auroran permission to ask for his daughter’s hand before his untimely death when Quin was a teenager.  Tanith just never got the chance to do it before the war broke out.

One of the few things Quin has left from her childhood is a baby blanket that was knitted by her grandmother who died when Quin was still very small.

For Lyyn:

Lyyn used to scare her parents by climbing high things and jumping off of them as a child.

Lyyn was exceptionally fidgety as a child.

For Arcavius:

Arc has a tattoo of a blue dragon on his right shoulder.

He’s always been a nerd, even growing up on the farm.  Even the sheep used to make fun of him.

[lordaeronslost]

Lyyn’s RPG stats

Wasn’t tagged on this character, but sharing anyway because something tells me people (*cough* @steelshatter @darlingknave ) will get a laugh out of this.

Karinlyyn Chancerah Aminestria Solonastarn-Greymantle Auroran Steelshatter LV.35 Ranger HP ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜ MP ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛ ATK ⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ DEF ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜ LCK ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜ SPD ⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ STA ⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜

Quiz here.

#stuff #thanks Jack #Lyyn Auroran #Ghost

[lordaeronslost]

A letter to Cord Embersong - 4 July

This letter comes attached to a small bottle of whiskey, written on good parchment in sepia-toned ink, and sealed in gray wax without a signet.

Darling,

I never heard back from you so I’m not really sure what you want to be called or if you even got the first letter.  I hope you’re all right—I heard about the bullshit that went down out there, and I hope against hope that you made it out, that you were still alive when it started. It was hard not to hear about an anomaly of that size that close to Bradensbrook and the company I’m nominally signed on with is in the area every so often, so someone tripped over what was going on but knew enough to keep their mouths mostly shut on the matter. Hell.  For all I know, they didn’t actually trip over it, just heard something or felt something or saw something they shouldn’t have either in Dalaran or in Val’sharah itself.  I don’t care who knows that I know, for the record.  Let’s be real here, it’s in the past and doesn’t much matter.  I know it’s in the past because my husband got a letter from Whisper and I doubt she would have spared the time if shit was still real out there.  Still, I can’t bring myself to check myself.  Call it fear or sentimentality or paranoia—I just don’t want to stumble across something that’s going to hurt.  There’s enough pain in the world already.

I’d started looking for a place up in the Plaguelands to open up a bar—I used to help run one in Stormwind back when, before Theramore blew up and everyone thought I was dead. I don’t know if it’s going to happen, though.  Something feels wrong and I don’t say that because of some sort of sixth sense or any visions or bullshit like that—that’s crap I leave to other members of the family. It feels wrong because it feels like history’s about to repeat itself again.  I can hear the rumblings, see the signs.  I don’t know who’s going to make the first move, but I know damn well whatever does go down is just going to snowball into something bigger and worse until we’re dealing with the usual epic level cluster.

I hate this fucking war. I hate it.  But at the same time, there’s no way I can walk away.  There’s some shit that still needs to get settled one way or another and while I know that while some of us hope for one way, it’s probably going to end up being another.

If you want to write back, like I said in the last letter, the Argent Crusade can get word to me through Commander Frost and there’s also a flower urn by the back gate to the Viscountess Greymantle and Baron Marcovian’s townhouse in Dalaran.  I’ve also set up a dead drop just south of the gateway and the pass from southern Quel’thalas into the plaguelands.  Look for the rock formation that looks like a skull—it’s not big, but I’m sure you’ll find it.  You’ll find the drop if you look hard enough.

Be safe.

Enjoy the whiskey.

 - Ghost.

[@darlingknave]

#letters #RP #cross-faction #World of Warcraft #Lyyn Auroran #Karinlyyn Ilgrey #Darling Cord #Wyrmrest Accord #WrA #WoW #Lyyn Ilgrey #Ghost #Cord Embersong

[lordaeronslost]

A Secret Book - 26 August, Year 1 of the reign of Anduin Wrynn

He’s alive and safe and home and with me again and I have never been so relieved in the whole of my life.  At night, we just lay in bed and hold each other and it’s more than enough—I missed him so much. I sleep so much better with him next to me.  I didn’t realize it until he was gone and then came home again.  I knew that sleeping alone sucked, but I didn’t realize how much, and how little rest I was actually getting until I woke up that first morning next to him.

They’ll deploy to the Broken Isles as soon as they’ve had time to rest and resupply.  I don’t know if I’m going to go with them or not.  I know he wants me to—he wants me with him.  He wants me to join them.

What am I going to do?  I have my work here, though I know I have one or two operatives I could assign to handle things.  I’m sure SI:7 would like eyes in the Servitors—if I make that choice.

If I don’t play both sides.

If I don’t tell some of my superiors to kindly go fuck themselves for what they did to Mindspanner.  I went to her in good faith and passed along their request and what did they do?

I’m not into hanging people out to dry like that.

Maybe it would be better—

I don’t know.  I just don’t know.

But what does it matter?  Lyyn Auroran is dead and Lyyn Ilgrey is an illusion, a mask.

No matter what I do, I’m a ghost.

Maybe it’s better that way.

Then again, maybe it’s not.

#Lyyn's journal #A Secret Book #Lyyn Auroran #Lyyn Ilgrey #Anthus Steelshatter #M Mindspanner #Legion #Servitors of Lothar #SoL #WrA #World of Warcraft #RP #character journal #SI:7

[lordaeronslost]

Letters to the South Seas - 11 August

The letter is written in Thalassian with lapses into Common and a few phrases in the tongue of Dalaran—almost as if the writer is trying to make it difficult for anyone other than the intended recipient to understand. It is sealed with gray wax and a sigil with a rose twining around a dagger.

 My Bard,

I don’t know if I’ll be able to send this, or any letter that will follow, but I need to write the words.  I need to put them to paper so someday they can be read—by us together, I hope, with relief and perhaps even wistful smiles.

I have to hope and pray that it will be so.  If I do otherwise, I think I might break and that wouldn’t benefit anyone.

The Legion is here, in the Hinterlands.  The Keep was nearly overrun last night.  Your swordbrethren, they held the line, but I wonder at what cost.  I can’t bring myself to go down to the infirmary to see—to see who’s lived, who’s died.

I saw an explosion of white light—not like the sun, but like the moon—before they sealed the gates.

They’ve sealed the gates. We’re trapped in here until we can break the siege.

If we can break the siege.

I’m afraid, a’mael.  I’m afraid for myself, for you, for my niece and my nephews, for the Servitors, the Wildhammers, all the refugees...

I knew it would be bad, but I never imagined this.  It’s like Lordaeron all over again, but worse, like hell that we went through when the Scourge came for a second time—except worse.

We pretend that we’ve prepared for this but we’re not.  There’s nothing that could prepare you for this.

I had another nightmare, Anthus.

I dreamed you didn’t come home.

I can’t let that dream be real.

Lyyn.

@steelshatter

#she knows he may not get to read it #legion #Lyyn Ilgrey #Lyyn Auroran #Anthus Steelshatter #Servitors of Lothar #Aerie Peak #SI:7 #SoL #WrA #World of Warcraft #letters #rp #fiction #Hinterlands #Wildhammers

[lordaeronslost]

Letters to the South Seas - 8 August

The letter is written in Thalassian with lapses into Common and a few phrases in the tongue of Dalaran—almost as if the writer is trying to make it difficult for anyone other than the intended recipient to understand. It is sealed with gray wax and a sigil with a rose twining around a dagger.

 My Bard,

Yesterday was quiet except for the comm blast sent out to the Servitors, advising them to carry full kit at all times and to always have a first aid kid with them as well.

It’s going to happen soon. I’m not sure how they know—I was with the kids when it happened—but somehow, they know it’s coming soon.

It feels like the deep breath before the storm.

Some of your swordbrethren tried to reassure me that you’d be home soon—Meggi, I think it was, one of the ones on latrine duty.  She said that these next forty-eight days will have passed before I know it and then you’ll be back where you belong.

I wish the days would blend together, but right now the edges are sharp, jagged.  I can see the gaps between too easily.

So I number the days until you’re home and wait for a letter, for word, a fragment of a song I know is yours—anything.

I still miss you.

Be careful, a’mael.

All my love,

Your Ghost.

@steelshatter

#letters #she knows he may not get to read it #Lyyn Ilgrey #Anthus Steelshatter #Lyyn Auroran #SoL #WrA #World of Warcraft #Servitors of Lothar #Mention: Servitors of Lothar #Letters to the South Seas #Mention: Meggi Hertzlocker #rp #fiction

[lordaeronslost]

Letters to the South Seas - 7 August

The letter is written in Thalassian with lapses into Common and a few phrases in the tongue of Dalaran—almost as if the writer is trying to make it difficult for anyone other than the intended recipient to understand. It is sealed with gray wax and a sigil with a rose twining around a dagger.

 My Bard,

I had the nightmare again, the one where word had reached me of an accident and the news that you’d lost your memory.  What was worse than the dream itself was waking alone in the darkness.  If the kids weren’t here, I wouldn’t bother with a brave face—it’s usually more effort than it’s worth.

I think Riana knows that I’ve been lying about where you are, about you being home “soon.”  She is, after all, her mother’s daughter and she certainly has her father’s bullshit detector.  But she hasn’t pressed, probably because she is, after all, still her mother’s daughter.  She’ll probably make Joshua ask.

They know something’s wrong, they just don’t know what the cost is.

I went to Wyrmhearth last night, though not for long.  It was quiet—mostly Servitors there for a drink—and I didn’t linger over my cup of coffee.  In truth, it’s just hard.  These are your friends, your family beyond us.  I’m here and you’re not and the knowledge that you’re not going to be back for a while crashes down on me in those moments.

But I’m going to keep trying.  They’re good people—they’re no Retribution, but they’re good people.  I like some of them—yes, more than just Quin!—and maybe I can come to like the rest.

I still haven’t found the words to tell Jude.  Maybe Longsight or Mindspanner will handle that for me—either accidentally or otherwise. Maybe you’ll be back before she is and I won’t have to.  Maybe a lot of things.

Maybe I should stop dwelling, but work can only distract me so much.  There are stirrings in the north, but nothing that I wasn’t expecting, considering everything else.  There’s not much time left before they’re here.

I wish it didn’t scare me but it does.  It scares the crap out of me and I just hope against hope that somehow I can rise to the occasion and do what needs to be done.

I have to.  There are people counting on me.

Be safe, my Bard. Come home to me.

All my love,

Your Ghost.

@steelshatter

#Letters to the South Seas #RP #WrA #World of Warcraft #Lyyn Auroran #Lyyn Ilgrey #Anthus Stelshatter #Mention: M Mindspanner #Mention: Etharion Longsight #Mention: Servitors of Lothar #SoL #letters #Mention: Jude Auroran #Servitors of Lothar #she knows he may not get to read it #legion

[lordaeronslost]

Letters to the South Seas - 6 August

The letter is written in Thalassian with lapses into Common and a few phrases in the tongue of Dalaran—almost as if the writer is trying to make it difficult for anyone other than the intended recipient to understand. It is sealed with gray wax and a sigil with a rose twining around a dagger.

 My Bard,

There is a heaviness to the air here at Aerie Peak, like the deep breath held before the final blast. I start to wonder, hearing the way most folk outside of the Peak talk, outside of those who are “in the know” so to speak, if we are perhaps crazy, if we’re reading too much into small coincidences.

For a second, I find myself thinking “What if they’re not coming?  What if we’re wrong?”

But in my gut, in my heart, I know we’re not wrong.  They’re coming.

The kids are settling in well.  Sam is really still too young to realize that this is more than just a few days with Auntie Lyyn, but I can tell that Riana and Joshua know better.  They’re older, they’ve seen more—they have clear memories of when Jude was commanding the Retribution, they know the look in her eye when things are about to get bad.

They know enough to be afraid.

I’ll have to try to be here more often.  Aekatrine has offered to help—her son is around their age, and she’s been helping Shadowpaw with her daughter, and Aneria’s at least closer to Sam’s age. It’s something, and I’m grateful to her. Saves me from having to find a babysitter, right?

I miss you.  I don’t know if this would be easier if you were here, but I hope it would be.

I’m not sure how you’d feel about some of the new recruits to the Servitors.  I’m sure they mean well, but some of them are sadly lacking in the discipline that Longsight and the rest are trying to re-instill in the unit—a discipline and decorum that they’ll need soon enough.  There is much to be said for a unit being a family, but at the same time, families are built of more than just affection—there’s also respect.

They need to support each other through this or they won’t make it—on a lot of levels, they just won’t.

Some of them don’t believe, mostly the newest ones.  They’re in for a rude awakening when it all begins.

Hopefully they’ll all still be here when you come home, then you can judge for yourself.

I love you.

Your Ghost.

@steelshatter

#Letters to the South Seas #Lyyn Auroran #Lyyn Ilgrey #Anthus Steelshatter #Mention: Jude Auroran #Mention: Aekatrine Dawnstar #Servitors of Lothar #World of Warcraft #RP #SoL #WrA #pre-legion #she knows he may not get to read it #SI:7 #Mention: Servitors of Lothar #Mention: Etharion Longsight #Mention: Roiya Shadowpaw #letters

[lordaeronslost]

A secret book - July 30

Work might be the only thing that gets me through the next fifty-five days. This assumes that I can somehow prevent myself from going to Booty Bay and starting a little one-woman war against the Blackwater Raiders on every possible and imaginable level.

I’ll be okay.  Dad taught me better than that, after all.

It just sucks.

The more I work, though, the faster the time’s going to pass, the better everything will be.

In the meantime, I sleep in one of his shirts when I’m home and try not to think.  I’d drink, but I need to stay clear-headed.  Orders.

Bullshit, but at least it’s my bullshit to deal with.

Quin’s in a bad state after their last mission and I met them in Stormwind last night to tour what they’ve done with the park (I’m not sure I like it, but it’s better than a hole in the ground).  There’s a part of me that’s still not sure why I went, but at the end of the day—they’re his family as much I am, they’re her family as much as I am, so I might as well—no, I have to do what I can to keep them safe just like I would for either one of them.

That’s probably why I told them to get the hell out of there after that poor girl committed suicide in front of us.

Marienne Mayfair, former postulant at the Cathedral turned drug addict and now, corpse.  I’ll have to track down the sister to see what I can find out.

The more I’m in Stormwind again, the more I’m reminded why I was glad to be assigned elsewhere.  The city is a cesspool and I’m glad that I wasn’t born there.

But somehow, I seem to end up dealing with some of its problems, just like every other member of the intelligence community—it’s the heart of the Alliance and without a strong Stormwind, we’re screwed.

Fuck my life.

Drugs, crime lords, and bullshit. That’s what we have to deal with—on top of doomsayers and the Legion coming.

There’s a new mage—Taldin LaMaunte based on the duty roster I saw—in the unit and he doesn’t believe a bloody word that’s been said about the Legion coming. He strikes me as the type that was actually surprised when the Scourge returned or when wars break out, the type that either can’t—or won’t—read the writing on the wall.  Fuck him.  If he doesn’t want to believe, that’s fine—just as long as he doesn’t take the Servitors down with him when the Legion rolls him.

Because they are coming.  The reports, the doomsayers, the scorched earth in sin’dorei territory—there’s too much evidence.

We don’t have much time to prepare.

I wonder how much help Oracle will need in handling the Mayfair business. I have work to do in the north that I can’t leave for too long.

Who am I kidding?  My agents are incredibly competent.  It’s the Servitors I worry about.

Bloody fucking fel and hellfire.

It’s happening again and I don’t know if I want to stop it or not.

I almost told Quin yesterday when I looked in on her.

I almost said that it’s time for Lyyn Auroran to live again.

[Mentions: Taldin (who might have a tumblr I don’t know about); @latilda-rommel; @etharion (for the Mayfair plot); @steelshatter (because 55 days and shirts)]

#A secret book #Lyyn's journal #Lyyn Ilgrey #Lyyn Auroran #SoL #WrA #World of warcraft #Servitors of Lothar #character journal #Legion #SI:7 #Stormwind #It's coming