#arathihighland

[safrona-shadowsun]

Mar looked down to the tacup in her freckled hands that was warm, even hot, a piece f cole in her freezing hands. "I don´t think tht I will return to the Arathihighlands. In my mind that man who calls himnself a Trollbane is still a Usurpátor and not chosen by the Ting." She looked up, a frown drawing a long line between her thick eyebrows: "My apologize. I drink your tea and only talk about my own problems. You sure have your own thoughts more important, Milady."

Teatime Tuesday

Eyes fixed on the half orc's hands as she struggled to warm them with the tiny, clay-sculpted cup of tea, Safrona let a wry smile take her lips in understanding of the confession. Fingers toying with the lid of the sugar vessel, the void elf returned it gently to the accompanying teaset that dominated the booth table between them.

"I think home is best when you are carving it out on your own, and not at the whim of someone's war. Of course, someone somewhere likes to lay a claim to every piece of land." Safrona shrugged as she let her eyes light around her Sojourn, the well-loved Pandarian establishment that housed them now. "But I think I have done well for myself. Though it has taken some years to find my own place, and have it feel that it is mine."

Safrona smirked at the little teacup that Mar tried to evoke heat from. "But I also think that there are better ways to heat yourself than with flavored water. You might take a room here, yes? You can steep yourself in a private bath here for an hour or so, if you like."

{ @shuuhuu / @halforc-mercenary }

#took me a minute but here you go! #Halforc Mercenary #rp writing #warcraft IC

[halforc-mercenary]

𝔐𝔦𝔡𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯

                                                       22th December

The Night came fast this evening, washing over the coast, the old forests, and the scraggy mountains like a wave of midnight black ink. But although the night was so deep dark it could have been cut with a knife, it was not completly black since as soon as the sky darkned, the children of the village by the coast lightened up little lights put in small claymugs they would carry on branches while they would walk from house to house to exchange their little songs for apples, pieces of fruitcake, dried fruits and nuts until their little lights in the claypots hopped through the villages treets like bright shimmering wisps.  The Vöva Kilmettas hut lay on a hill at the edge of the village from which the small groups of wisps- the children wandering from door to door with their small lights- were good to watch while Mar waited for the old woman to return from the great Hall where most adults or at least the ones who were not needed to hand the children sweets, were celebrating the longest night of the year.  The Halforc had a good eyes, keen eyes, orcish eyes, so she easily saw the old Kilmetta before the old woman could see her as she slowly toddled with a deep bowed back up the hill to her hut. When mar had been a child, she had been told that Kilmatta had been a tall woman, yet she was now as small as a child as she walked deeply boweded and leaned on her staff, with two bright white braids framing her withered face and hanging down until down to her ankles as the shells, wooden trinkets and small claypieces weaved in the pale braids clinked like bells at every step. Still, when the old woman finally saw Mar sitting under the old peartree from which the Halforc had stolen pears as a dare when she had been a small child, Kilmetta seemed not in the slightest suprised and instead limped towards her to take one of the young womans small, freckled hands in hers with a quiet laughter, squeezing them gently. Although the old womans hands were as thin as brittle branches, Mar felt the muscles in them and without even wanting to stiffned as she imagined that those hands might be able to crush hers s after all the wise woman could call on Things and beeings that could give her enough strenght to do even worser things.  

“Ah, little Margvis. good to see you made it here  in time. I missed you in the celebration in teh great Hall.”, the old womans hands were as brown as chestnutwood, smooth and cool as ice. The Halforc stiffned by the touch, as if she feared the old womans hands would the next moment dig into her flesh like claws  but she beared the uncomfortableness. Kilmetta was old, yet Mar knew since she had been a little child that noone should anger her. So the Halforc only muttered: “ I doubt the people would have liked to see me joining the celebration.” Kilmetta just clicked her tounge nonchalantly, although her eyes almost disappeared undernher thick, snowwhite eyebrows, her eyes were as sharp, golden and glaring as the eyes of a young woman: “Eh, thats a problem that would have been sloved by  a good strike with my staff. Noone should be alone on their birthday. But anyway, you are here for me reading you the runes, so  did you thought about a question You want to ask the Runes?” “Yes.”, Mar answered and thought of her question, but  as she opned her mouth she instead wanted to say ‘ How will my Life be this coming Year?’ , ‘ Will i find a home and family?’ and then far far in the back of her head, so far hidden that she would never say it out loud she wanted to ask ‘ Will I find...Love?’, but instead of asking any of this she only asked sternly: “Will I survive the coming War?” Kilmetta grinned, showing pridefully the few teeth she had kept in her old age: “A good question. Better than ´How will my life be this Year?´ and `Will I finally find love?’. I had five of each last week.” Mar did not said anything but one of her freckled ears flicked nervously up and down and she felt like a child caught with their hands in a cookiejar. Not for the first time she wondered if Kilmetta knew what she was thinking or if she had hopped in Mars head, like she had often told she would hopp in the heads of birds to fly or in the heads of Raptores to hunt like those animals did.  Once again Kilmetta seemed to know exactly what was going through the young womans head as she only laughed- (Cheekily?) (Amused?) -knowingly and pulled Mar with her into her hut: “Ah, its cold! Come in, child, Come in!” The old womans hut was circular pit digged in the ground with a pointed roof made of straw set on top, it as warm inside, the earthwalls were covered with animal pelts for isolation and although the flames in the firepit in the middle of the hut were burned down, the ashes were full of ambers that shimmered like wisps in the blackness hanging like a veil in the hut.  "You know the first time I threw the Runes for you was when you were a two weeks old green bean in Hedwigs arms. You were so wee.”, Kilmetta,  old Kilmetta, deeply bowed Kilmetta had to look up to the short woman that was Mar and her eyes softned as she gently patted the Halforcs hand:  “You still are, child.” Mar could of course not remember the time when Kilmetta had used the blood of Mars umbilical cord to find out which of the many animnals roamning the Arathi Highlands would be her fylgja accompanying her through the coming years as a protetcor, but she had from that day visited the old woman every year on the evening of the 21th Decmer to the 22th December, to let the old woman throw the Runes for her as it was tradition.  Boundles of drying herbs were hanging from the ceiling, so Mar had to carefully sit down to not burry her head in the heavy smelling herbs while Kilmetta with hands that were much too nimble to belong to such a old woman kindled the embers in the ash back into flames and made red light wash like eveningred into the small hut. Kilmetta sat down before Mar beside the fire, grabbed for a small leatherpouch by her belt and spread pieces of bones marked with runes on the with pelts covered ground between their knees. “So then, lets start. Close your eyes, Margvis.” Mar did as she told, closed her eyes and then let her hand wander over the bonerunes on thr ground.She had done this he last years and had been teache dto read and throw runes as a child so she knew what to do:  The first Rune drawn would give a reading with a view on the past, the second gives a view on the present and the third would give a view on a possible future. Accordingly Mar took her time chosing the runes as beside her the fire hummed something that sounded like a lullaby of warmth and secureness.  After she had chose the three Runes, Mar opned her eyes again. A heavy frown appeared on her freckled face and drew a long line that was as deep as a scar between her thick eyebrows the moment she saw the Rune she had first chosen: “..not again Ehwaz.”  Kilmetta leaned her head back and laughed loudly, before she put the three runes in a proper order. The fireshine reflected in the polished raptorebone as if the runes were drawn with gold. “Same as every year, it seems!” The Halforc only pinned her ears back in annoyance, but said nothing. While Kilmetta still chuckled, Mar thoght about teh Rune poem she had learned by heart when she ahd been teached the runes:  The horse is a joy to princes in the presence of warriors. A steed in the pride of its hoofs, when rich men on horseback bandy words about it; and it is ever a source of comfort to the restless. Ehwaz was the Rune of wandering, of moving, of a riding horse.  After Kilmetta had stopped laughing she only winked at the young woman in all good humor: “Though it fits you. Ehwaz is your Rune of the Past, it says that your roots do not lay here, but somewhere else far away. You were sired and born here, but the you that is you had started to become on another world for the other half that would make you came from another world. It says that your roots lay where your grandmother and mothers roots started to grow but also from where the orcs came and from the Grandmother that was an Orc herself and from the world she lived in. You are neither of Azeroth nor are you fully of the orcs Homeworld and you will never belong fully to either, too. You are and will always be as much of a stranger here as you are at home. ” One of the Halforcs freckled ears flicked annoyed, but the young woman kept the tune of her voice respectful: “.... I was sired and born here, by now the Runes should have understood that i am now as much part of Azeroth as the Orcs in Dutorar are.” “Its not that easy. One Part of you began in the Outland. The Outland is as much part of you as the Highlands. Thats neither good nor bad, It just shows us that your past had been influenced by the Orcs homeland and whatever happens to it had happned and will happen to you for the Past will always influence the future.” Kilmetta chuckled again, the little light hanging in the room reflected in her golden eyes that looked disturbingly like the eyes of a young girl.  The Frown on the Mars freckled  face became even heavier, the heavy line between her thick eyebrows by now almost reached up to her hairline as she harrumphed: “I am in a much better shape than the shattered homeland of the Orcs.” “And i was not talking about your body, Margvis. One part of you shattered can be interpreted in many ways. But you are here for your future, so lets turn to the second rune; The Present-” She tapped a long, branchlike finger against the rune in the middle that was as pale as snow. Mar also recognized this Rune, although she could not help herself but automatically she took a deep breath to prove to herself that she could still breath, that she was not sinking, that she was not drowning.  It was Laguz, the deep Water, the still Lake:  The ocean seems interminable to men, if they venture on the rolling bark and the waves of the sea terrify them and the stallion of the deep heed not its bridle.

The Halforcs eyes were fixed on the rune that lay turned before her and while she all to well knew just as well as Kilmetta what the Rune met, she did not dared to look at the older woman and she (Sank down, sank down, sank down) flinched when Kilmetta reached out (Water filled her mouth, her throat, her lungs, burning like acide) to gently touch (And the hand in the back of her head was as unmoveable as a iron vice while there was only water, water, water.)  the Halforcs knee while she carefully and quietly hummed, as if she was afraid Mar would be startled by her voice:  “Laguz is the Rune of organic growth, lifeenergy and the flow of Life. Yet it lays reveresed here and that turns the meaning. This means your present is a stage of great confusion, it is filled with wrong decisions, you feel stuck in your situation, there is  fear and despair...you had a hard year, didn´t you, wee Margvis?” The Halforcs eyes, too green, too bright, too orcish, were fixed on the Rune of the Present, while she thought about the last year, while she thought about the battle at Lordearon and the days afterwards in which she had searched for her younger Halfbrothers and panic had closed tighter and tighter around her throat like a brutal hand, while she thought about burrying the steed that had been with her since Northrend, while she thought about the battles at Stromgarde under whichs banner she had been born but for which to live under her skin was too green, her tusks were to big, her eyes were too orcish.  “..I think a lot of people had a hard year, Kilmetta.”, she muttered and automatically she grabbed the hood of her Gugel adn pulled it deep down in her stark freckled face.  For a moment there were only the cracking of the flames filling the air, sparks rising between the from the roofs hanging herbs like fireflys. mars ears flicked quietly up adnd own when she heard Kilmetta shift a little to ease teh strain on her old bones as she leaned over to read the last chosen Rune that would predict the fate for the coming year. Out of the shadow laying like a dark veil on her face Mar peered down at the rune. 

From one moment to another the young woman sat up so straight she felt as if she had swallowed a broom.  Kilmetta blinked, one time, two times, three times: “..oh.” A sudden heat rushed over the Halforcs face and made the balck blood beneath her skin turn so hot it felt as if it had turned into lava. Although Mar did her very best, her usually deep womenly voice hopped up two octaves when she pressed out a snarl  from between cramped, heavy orcish jaws: “Not a word, Kilmetta!” The old womans golden eyes looked now even younger than before, a light danced in it like a michievious little flame and she grinned wildly which made the wrinkles on her old face longen even more: “I mean, it could be worse, thats indeed positive-” “Kilmetta, no..!”, automatically the Halforcs hand twitched towards the hilt of her sword, but she hold herself back as shame painted her face into a deep inkblack colour. The heavieness the Rune of the present had left fell of the two women like a heavy coat when Kilmetta giggled and Mar squirmed in utter embarrassment. Still laughing the Völva threw her head back , her long nail tapped a happy little melody on the Rune of Berkanan laying between them and Mars face turned a even darker shade of black:  The poplar bears no fruit; yet without seed it brings forth suckers, for it is generated from its leaves. Splendid are its branches and gloriously adorned its lofty crown which reaches to the skies.

There was still a almost childish giggle dancing in her voice when Kilmetta chirped: “Berkanan is the Rune of birth, general fertility, growth, arousal of desire. It stands for a coming new generation, for lust and love and predicts a love affair and new birth. I really would love to have that written in my Rune for the future, ha! You will have a nice year coming, it seems! Now that sounds like some fun! Will you bring your future babies back here so I can throw runes for them, yes?” Mar only huffed, her jaws cramped so hard together it made a thin pain like needlestitches stitch into her skull and she looked to the side flustered. When Kilmetta finished laughing she only smiled, her thick white braids rustled like snow as she leaned forward to Mar and lay a hand on the young womans shoulder: “Also Berkanan is the Rune of reneval of past sorrows. Its a good rune to have for the year, little Margvis. Especially after a year like this.”  Letting out a long breath the Halforc eventually just ran a hand over her face to cool down the blush burning like lava under her skin, it needed a few moments before she eventually looked back at Kilmetta. After all, it was right, The rune of renewing and growth was a good rune to have for the future. When Mar looked up the young eyes of he old women shimmered michieviously like a will-o'-the-wisp: “...Though, let me ask the important question here; will you name one  of your wee, peacolored babies after me, little Margvis?”

Mar only glared at the other woman with such a intensity that she seemed to try to burn a hole in the old womans head with sheer willpower.  She did not said anything, no of curse not. After all the Völva was the woman with the staff, the wise woman, the one who talked with the beeing living in the stonecircles, yet Mar could not stop shoving annoyed her thick, orcish tusks forward when Kilmetta bursted into utterly amused giggles once again that shaked her frail form like a storm:  “You will most certainly survive that comig war, child! And you will have a lot of Fun!”  

#Mars Birthday present! #22th December #Midwinter #halforcmercenary #arathihighland #arathi highland #stromgarde #I mde a online test for runes in mars name and this was he result: Mar will have some game! xD #A LOT OF FUN fr her this comign year xD #warcraft rp #world of warcraft rp #wow rp #strom #headcanon #halforc-mercenary

[wildname]

What does your muse think is my muse’s most attractive feature? Mar really likes Thalins eyes. The dark blue remainds her of the Ocean she had seen everyday when she ahd lived in Theramore and the Ocean by her homevillage by the arathihighlands coast is more grey. Its not like she is Looking very often into Thalins eyes though since she usually has conversations with his chest or shoulder.

Thalin does have some pretty blues, doesn’t he? lol, thanks @shuuhuu!

[bran-ridire]

#loremaster Dalthori #nightborne #windwalkermonk Just logged in today to help mum finish "The Originals" and look what my lovely little monk found! #justwarcraftthings #worldofwarcraft #battleforazeroth #witherbarkdirewing #newride #arathihighlandsfront #arathihighlands #bat #fantasy #roleplayinggame #kickass #terrifictuesday #blizzigfamily #andnowforsomethingcompletelydifferent #iwantathrone https://www.instagram.com/p/BqtEIdwh1xl/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=wjk0xer10da9

#loremaster #nightborne #windwalkermonk #justwarcraftthings #worldofwarcraft #battleforazeroth #witherbarkdirewing #newride #arathihighlandsfront #arathihighlands #bat #fantasy #roleplayinggame #kickass #terrifictuesday #blizzigfamily #andnowforsomethingcompletelydifferent #iwantathrone

[stagnal]

“Every moment alone and before rest, I recall those times back home at the farm, when things were simple. Every morning on the field I glanced long at the sunny sky with mere fragments of clouds looming around, until the storm came.” -  Stagnal, Beyond the Horizon, memories from the Highlands.

#clouds #sunny #stagnal #warcraft #arathihighlands

[halforc-mercenary]

Aesthetic Board: Mar Mutthand

#the edits I did fpr the promo #since some people wanted them sepperated #halforc-mercenary #halforcmercenary #aesthetic board #aesthetic #warcraft #world of warcraft #wow #world of warcraft rp #warcraft rp #wow rp #mar mutthand #mar muthand #arathi highland #arathihighlands #arathi highlands #fantsy #fantasy rp #halforc #half orc #character aesthetic #character aesthetics #fantasy

[halforc-mercenary]

Citrine: How open are they to new ideas or cultures?

Mar grew up under a strict military philosophy, knowing that as soon as she would end her education in a craft and as a warrior, she would be send to another Kingdom to serve as a Sellsword in Noblehouses or as a Guard in a foreign city. After all living under a strict military philosophy would need a constant war and sometimes even the Arathihighlands were more or less peaceful. This wandeirng off and returnign of Sellswords would lead to a .tradition of excange between the Highlands and other Kingdoms and their cultures and traditions, be it the exchanging of Soldiers, lifestyle,crafting, Mercenaries or merchandises. Ideas and cultures were constantly flowing into another and developing. 

And those new ideas and traditions were needed because stillstand would mean that the people in the Highlands would have forever leaned on their swords made of flintstone and eventually would have died out against the Trolls, so exchange is life and exchange is pragmatic and exchange is needed to survive and needed for fighting. So  whatever idea and culture is useful for her, will be pragmatically used by Mar and what is nolonger useful in her ways of a warrior or for survival, be it traditional or not, will be abonded without a second of hestiation. After all: Stillstand means death and Mar grew up under a strict military philosophy. Her only goal is to survive and this she can only do when she continues moving forward and learn about new ideas and ways. 

#headcanon #thanks for the ask <3 #halforc-mercenary

[halforc-mercenary]

🐲Were they afraid of monsters under the bed as a child?

Mar had never been afraid of Monsters under her bed. Beside whatever weight her orcish appearance had lay upon her shoulders to carry, she had always liked her eyes because her nightvision was almost perfect:Where her cousin Lyschko was afraid to go to because it was dark in the middle of the night, Mar could see every line as clearly as in blurred dawn.Where people where anxious to tavel at night because the path was unclear, Mar could see every detail in the pale Starlight.Where a human could only see darkness, Mar could see almost as clear as day. Accordingly she had never been afraid of Monsters under her bed because she kenw she would be able to see coming whatever was out to get her. 

However, Mar knew that there were Monsters in daylight: She knew about the Foresttrolls lurking in the big forests in the Arathihighland that were always ready to throw her in the cookingpot, she knew that the Highlandraptores would hunt her like a little rabbit if she would be so stupid to be noticed by them, she knew about the Gnollrobbers who would attack travlers who were foolish enough to travel without guards and she knew about the Ogreclans on the plateau who would see in her nothing but a little snack before supper. Mar did not needed to be afraid of the monster under her bed, she knew that the world she lived in was already full of dangerouse monsters. 

#headcanon #thanks for the ask #halforc-mercenary

[halforc-mercenary]

cozy blankets: where do you feel the most safe and at home?

Automatically the young woman narrowed her eyes to thin slits, her freeckled ears pinned back as if she was a leery dog while she wondered if this question could be in any way used against her to slander her good name. Not that she as a mercenary had a good name to begin with. 

“At the back of a horse.” , Mar said eventually, slowly, weary, waiting for a trap to snap closed: “You can travel wherever you want on the back of a Horse.”The Halforc had lived always beside horses, first when she had been a little girl and her Greatuncles pony would live in the stable right the next room to the long sleepinghall in the longhouse that was only sepperated by a wall weaved of willowbranches, then years later as a Soldier in Encampments with the old Drafthorse Kevin who had been as loyal as a dog to her.“Also have you ever seen a Arathihighland Pony kick a Foresttroll or go after a Raptore triple its size? Believe me, you feel very safe with that tiny monster near you.”

#headcanon #When blizzard makes the guys in artahi wanna-be vikings YOU CAN NOT STOP ME GIVING THEM HISTORIC ACCURATE HORSES AKA PONIES #also ponies are pure dope #xD #thanks for the ask :D #I did not fucking made a bachelor in hgistory to see blizzard putting horns on helmets

[halforc-mercenary]

confutatis - what does your muse think about their childhood home / home life? is it a safe place? how did it impact the way they grew up? regardless of whether it is or isn’t, does your muse think it is a good place?

The Halforcs childhood Home was her Greatuncle Ansgars Longhouse set in a small village by the Coast of the Arathihighlands in which permanently oup to fifteen people live din together consisting of Mar, Her greatuncle, Ansgars Wife Brigitte, the old Thorgal, Mars Fostress Hedwig, Saskia and Björn, Ansgars sons Staschko and Lyschko, three Scribe-Students learning under Ansgar and a handful of workers for the fieldwork who would wandeirng in the seasons. In Winter teh Longhouse would be full of other faces, pirates who overwintered in the small village against a few coins, wanderers and Guests who searched for a place to spend the winter at. Mar had not known anything else before leaving for Theramore, so she could not say that it was safe or unsafe, good or bad. Mar had known that as mucha s she love dthis house thats he would someday leave, as she was after all just a “charge” and while she was raised and protected like a daughter, she would never be able to inherit any property from Ansgar as he was not her father.  In combination with the people working in the tact of thr Seasons in the Household, coming and going, Mar grew up in a enviorment of Goodbyes. She was from the day she coudl walk taken in the house as a helper, she helped cooking to learn how to cook, she helped the old Throgal in the Herbgarden to learn about herbalism, she helped weaving sewing and spinning so she woudl be able to do it for herself in her adultlife, she made decisions together with all the other members of the Household (those who were wandering or those who lived there permanently) so she would be able to make decisions for herself on her own one day, she fed the cattle and lead the sheep on her own in the summers for weeks up in the mountains so that someday when she would be older she would be able to take care of herself and keep herself alive. Mar had been raised pragmatically and while she was well loved by her Fostress, Ansgar and her cousins, it was the Households goal above anything else to prepare the girl to be able to live on her own. Mar still thinks her Greatuncles Longhouse was a good and safe place and in moments where she does not react fast enough to think pragmatic, she wishes to return to this place and time, back in the Gardens to old Thorgal, back to the kitchen with Saskia and Björn, back to the big hall in the Nights where she had slept sound and safe in her Fostress Hedwigs arms. 

#headcanon

[halforc-mercenary]

Gjenganger: does your muse consider themselves vengeful? Do they tend to hold onto grudges? Hamingja: what would make your muse the happiest right now? Kraken: does your muse enjoy being near the ocean? Do they feel at home in the water or do they prefer being on dry land?

Gjenganger: does your muse consider themselves vengeful? Do they tend to hold onto grudges?

Mar would like to say that she is not vengeful, that she has enough pride to brush of the memory of everyone who had wronged her like a old coat and forget about them. But even thought she wishes to, she is yet not numb and callouse enough to do that, in contrast to what she want to think of herself she is sensetive and bad words and wrong doings cut into her like sharp blades. So yes, even thought if Mar would not consider herself vengeful or one who holds grudges, she is and she does. And she hates herself for it, she is aware he rlife would be easier if she would just shrug her shoulder and let go, but she can´t 

Kraken: does your muse enjoy being near the ocean? Do they feel at home in the water or do they prefer being on dry land?

In the Nightmares that are not someones elses Mar always dreams of water, deep, black, and which is pulling her down, down, down with hands she can neither see nor fight against while the last light of the day is nothing but a flicker far away above the waters surface. Mar fears deep water. Above anything else, she fears drowning. While Mar is pragmatic enough to know what good source of food the sea is- for after all she had grown up at the Arathihighlands coast and later lived in Theramore- she can not bring herself to go to sea often and when she does it is a desperate move as a last resort as she serves as a guard on a shipping-companies merchant-cog. Mar knows that this is good work, but she can´t bring herself often to go on ships. She fear drowning and she can´t swim and gets too easily seasick. Mar had always been a very pragmatic person, but she could never call the sea her home for she fears it. 

#thanks for the ask! :D #headcanon

[halforc-mercenary]

Arranged Marriage AU: “I look forward to getting to know you better.”

The Halforc couldn´t help herself but a frantic smile pulled at the corner of her lips, the thin  smile of a scared little girl who suddenly realised that she would grow old. The man was as tall as a willowtree, with long arms and legs and hair as silver as a willows bark. Mar had to crane her neck to look him in the face and she could not help herself but a frown appeared on her face, drawing a long line between her thick eyebrows: “…well, you would need to fall very low for that, Sir.”Literally. If the Halforc would have less dignity she would have slapped her own face for this stupid remark. The frown on her face became only heavier and  her fingers played with the embroidery on her weddingdress, played with the embroided flowers Mar had stitched sitting on her fostress lap humming a childrhyme while dreaming of marrying. This was definitive not what the little child with the hands strewn with  wounds where she had accidently stitched herself with the sharp boneneedle, had dreamed of.

“Excuse me for a moment.” The young woman said in a huff, and rose from where she was sitting on a pillow,  gathering her like dry leafs rustling dresses skirts - they  were too long, her fostress had thought Mar would grow a lot of taller just like all the other people in her family, she walked out of the tent and past the Orcs and Dreanei who stiffly shared meals in a ceremony that was very far from beeing happily or carefree. Mars eyes narrowed to thin slits at this sight and automatically her hand wandered to her side where usually her sword would be. But it was not there. It was in a wooden chest away from this tent. She tensed, her back stiffned and her hands clenched to fists as if she made herself ready to fight with fists and feet if needed and like this she walked through the tent and outside of it. The air outside was fresh and cool like a gulp of fresh springwater. For a moment Mar stood there, with the Light of the inside of the tent in her back as hot as a broiling iron and, for a moment, just a moment, she thought of leaving.

Just a few breaths later Mar returned to the tent, cradling a boundle in her arms. Carefully she sat down beside Keynelis again and moved the cloth away, so the other Halforc could see what Mar was holding so delicately as if it was the most precious gem.  Inside the boundle  was a kitten, small and tiny with her eyes closed and her pink nose twitching after the scents hanging in the tent. The cats pelt was as red as autumnleafs and as she opned her eyes  they were still babyblue and sleepy looking up to Keynelis.

“She is my present for you, Sir. You know,  When a woman in the Arathihighlands marry it is tradition to give a cat to her. Since the woman would start after their wedding their own household and with that would also need a mousehunter to keep the supplies save…” The Halforc frowned, a long line was drawn between her eyebrows as she rememberd that she was not suppose to start a new household. Still, this was her weddingpresent. 

[ @keynelis  @toomany-elves ]

[halforc-mercenary]

What’s with you and dogs?

From one moment to another the young woman stiffned. It was not the tension of someone who was expecting a attack, not a stiffness of stance one would take over to prepare themself for a fight. It was the tension of someone who just felt fear stroke the back of their neck like icecold fingers. “Thats not of your concern.”, the young woman pressed out between cramped jaws, one hand resting at the hilt of her sword. The scars on her arm ached, as if big jaws would close around it and teeth would shred her skin. Again. 

When Mar had been a little child, she had been attacked by a mad dog. The village she had grew up in had been laying isolated on a sandy headland by the coast of the Arathihighland and was normally that village,that would be reached last by news from the other villages. So the news from the mad dog, only reached Mars village last and even than it had been blurred and bloated by every adding and withdrawal with what the news had been spiced with while wandering along the villages by the coast.

Accordingly Mar had been warned to watch out when she as always leaved the village to stroll around in the forest and collect herbs, but Mar was a young child and young children think they are immortal. But they are not.So the mad dog found her. Mar had always been a small person and while the dog was not that big, it was sick and for the small girl Mar was it had been a giant beast. She had had no chance to escape, so even the mad dog that was insane from sickness could hunt her down easily. She was overrun and the thin arm she had stretched out between her throat and the dogs big jaws was broken between the big teeth like a brittle branch and her skin ripped to pieces. Till now, Mar did not know what would happen next. Whenever she would remember this happening she would remember herself laying on her back, pressed on the ground, the mad dog over her and her broken, ragged arm between them. She would remember the pain, and the fear digging through every fibre of her body. And she would remember that her other hand would hold the small flintstoneknife she would use to cut herbs.

But she did not remember how she had killed the dog. She did not remember how its blood drenched every little inch of her so that she would smell of it even weeks after the incident. She did not remember how she returned to her homevillage, blooddrenched, trembling, horror-stricken. She did not remember how she broke down in her Greatuncles arms. And she did not remember how long she had slept after this incident moveless, fevering, until she would wake up two weeks later.

But, till today, she remembers the mad dogs heavy jaws,her small arm breaking and her flesh shredded between the big teeth, whenever she sees a dog.

#headcanon #thanks for the ask! :D #trigger warning #tw #tw:blood #tw: animal harm #tw: animal cruelty #tw: animal injury #tw:animal death

[halforc-mercenary]

Random Headcanon

 After Kevin was killed, Mar usually “rents” another pony  every three days in the  Taverns she passes  by on the road by exchanging the Horse with another and pay a small amount of money to the Innkeeper for taking care of the other exhausted horse for the next rider to ride as soon as said horse had  recovered. While she keeps Come-Here to carry her tent and belongings, the other Horse is always very likely to be a pony, for after all as someone from the Arathihighland she is more used to riding them and to deal with their character (Like how they would rather kick a attacker straight against the knee, instead of run away like every other Horsebreed would).

In a attempt to not become fond of them she will tradiotionally call them just “horse” like the tool they should be for her, or when she is in a not so somber mood “Horsey”.

#headcanon #mar loves animals okay #she would be happy if she could just pet all the cats and all the horses without beeing frowned upon #AND I AM ALL FOR ICELANDIC PONIES IN ARATHI #GIVE THEM HISTOPRIC TINY VIKING PONIES #HISTORIC TINY VIKING HORSES THAT WOULD FIGHT A OGRE #AND WOULD WIN #yes okay I am a historian so i am passionated BUT SERIOUSLKY

[halforc-mercenary]

❓

The Nightguardshift by the encampments gate was always very quiet, always very long and always very boring.They had sat down by a small campfire, relaxed, bored, idley, but still one hand lingering on the hilts of their swords for after all they were still guards. So the conversations were hushed while their senses were on edge, listening to the cracking of the undergrowth, watching the shadows moving around them over the Campfires light as they kept up the facade of bored idleness. “The Windrunnersisters Liar game? Hrmpf-”, Mar harrumphed quietly, a frown drawing a long line between her thick, bushy eyebrows: “…well, its not like we have anything else to do, aye?”“Good, two Turth and one Lie.”, the frown became even heavier on the young womans face and the campfire painted red marks on her dark green skin like warpaint:

“I have no interest joining a Faktion, the War is what makes me earn money and I will not chose between one warcriminal or another. The second, by now I am sure,  I will only return to the Arathihighland and go to the rebuild Stromgarde Keep to get a chance to punch Danath Trollbane. And the third, sometimes all I want is to buy a little piece of property, build a hut and a little garden and live on my own.“

#rian-kestavin

[halforc-mercenary]

𝔔 & 𝔄

What is your full name?

“Margvis Helasdottir Muthand.” , The Halforc grimaced a little as if she had bitten on something very bitter. It had been long since she had used her full name and still it felt so much more like the name belonged not to her but to someone else, someone who was long dead, someone who had lived and died before she was even born:  “I was named after my Grandmother Margvis, who earned the Honorific name Muthand at the end of the first war. She died after battle and was honoured with the name.” Her name had always felt as if it belonged more to that woman Mar had never met but only in the stories of her fostress: “Helasdottir is a Matronym. Helas Daughter.” What do your friends call you?

"Mar.”, the woman grunted scarce. She still did not knew what she should think about the recent development that the honorific of her Grandmother she used as a second name was often spoilt into “Mutthand” and while this name, Mar Mutthand, felt so much more like it was her very own, like her really own name, she felt guilt towards the woman who died to earn the honorific. What is your favorite animal?

A very small smile sneaked on the womans lips and curled around her thick tusks, before she hasty pushed it off her face again: “Cats.” Where were you born?

"At the coast of the Arathihighland.”, not for the first time the Halforc noticed that her homevillage did not even had a name, it was small and  barely finable nestled between the mountains in its back and, the sea to its front and the of grass overgrown earthwall that lay around it like a emerald snake.

Do you have children?

“No.”, a frown draw a long line between Mars thick, bushy eyebrows: “That would be irresponsible.” Is there a person/people you love?

“That is a far to personal question to answer to someone I barely know.”, Mar narrowed her eyes to thin slits, behind her words lingered a sound that could almost be a warning snarl. What is your favorite color?

The frown returned to the young womans face: “I like Blues.” In flowers, she added in her mind and only thinking about it made her feel embarrassed , like the carpet of blue flowers I have once saw in the Grizzlyhills. What is your full occupation?

“I am a Sellsword.”, the woman had pinned her ears back like a snarling dog, yet there was a flicker of sneer lingering behind her words:  “I travel from place to place and ask if One may want to pay for a good swordarm to gut their enemies.” Are you good at physical fighting?

The Halforcs eyes narrowed to thin slits and her words almost sounded like a angry snarl: “I would be unemployed if I wouldn´t.” Which form are you best at?

“I was teached in using many weapons perfectly.”, the young woman muttered briefly and thought tat she had always liked the poleaxe for its pragmatical diversity, yet the free man had long hair and  carried a sword on their belt and Mar had to keep up a certaine appearence:  “In a fight it would be foolish to rely on only one weapon, don´t you think?” What about magic?

“I-”- am as useless in using Magic as Nipples on a chestharness, she thought and said instead: “-Had not been educate in this Craft.” Which type are you best at?

“Maybe the magic of killing a foresttroll in less than a minute. With a fork.”, the Halforc scoffed, her tusks bared like a growling dog.

Craftsmanship?

“My family had made sure I was teached in the craft of a scribe.”, Mar harrumphed and felt as if she had to defend herself for using Quill and Sword: “In a pragmatical manner. Like Reading and writing in differnet writingsystems, keeping the books in Household, writing letters, holy Texts and cerifications for other people...It is useful for the times I am not able to follow my Work as a Sellsword, for if I happen to be wounded, I would starve if i would not have another leg to stand on. It would be foolish to only rely on my swordarm. ” Any other skills?

Mar thought that she was able to weave, knit and sew, that she was able to keep care of a small group of cattle, that she could hunt good enough to at least shot a rabbit when she needed meat in her meals, that she could cook and use Herbs to make healingslaves and that she could farm a little garden. She was not perfect in this skills, but it was enough to feed and keep alive one Person. Herself. Instead she said:  “I am able to be self-sufficient.” Are you an only child?

“Aye.”, Mars hand lay around the hilt of her sword as hard as a iron vice. ANd she said nomore. Where do you see yourself in five years?

“Hopefully alive.”, the Halforc grunted scarcly, she had never made herself illusions about her life and would not start doing so. Dreaming was for fools. And she was no fool. Have you ever almost died?

“I earn my money with war.”, The long line betwee her thick eyebrows became even longer, almost reaching up to her line of hair: “That goes Hand in Hand with beeing close to death, often.” Do you have a secret, not just a secret, but like a really big secret hardly anyone knows?

Mar narrowed her eyes to slits, her mouth was just a dangerouse thin line in her face: “Everyone has.” Salty or sweet?

“I prefer salt.”, she uttered after a second of hestiating in which she remembered that most sweet meals made her inside cramp as if she had been hit in the guts by a brutal hand. Do you like yourself?

“If not me, than who would instead?” Mar harrumphed and straigtened her back as if she was saluting. Do you believe in the Twelve?

“No.”, she grunted, her ears pinned back. Are you religious?

For a moment Mar thought how, when she had been younger ,begged her Homevillages priest to take her over as a Pupil, for priests of the Light were respected and she longed so much to be respected. For a moment she remembered the small little girl she had been sacreficing her most prettiest wooden pearls to the pond in the forest near her Homevillage, asking for the spirits dwelling there to, please, please, please fullfill her wish. For a moment the young woman hestiated. “Once perhaps.”, she said slowly. Do you carry prejudice with you?

“As far as I know, I don´t.”, Mar grunted scarcely: “I would not earn much money if I would be s stupid to have prejudice.” What do you consider entertainment?

“Reading.”, the Halforc kept carefully quiet thet fact that she ejoyed reading the mst slushiest romancenovellas and poems. That was nothing of the Askers concern. Favorite drink?

“Hot milk with Honey.”, her eyes narrowed to thin slits, either because she tried to hide her shame ove rliking such a “childish” drink or because she regretted the fact that Milk was always too fast to rot whe taking with her on longer travels. Do you have any family traditions?

“I am a Soldier.”, she shrugged her shoulders, a little uncomfortable about the question: “That is the only familytradition I follow. It would be foolish to keep on following traditions when there is noone there anymoe to share this traditions with. I am no fool.” Are you a good person?

For a second a shadow ran over the Halforcs face, just a second, just a flicker of doubt, before she growled a quiet: “Depends.” Thank you for answering my questions.

“It was My pleasure.”, the woman said as lamely as if she was quoting a very long and very boring poem.

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔤𝔢𝔡 𝔅𝔶: @stonestridernerd

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤: @curiouscodex , @keynelis , @spectrisconsarcio , @anierous-sunblade ,  @demonhunter-atram , @leavenohoofprints ,  @wanderersofazeroth , @brashtide-menace , @kiyastrasza , @tirion-fordring ,   @crownofearth ,  @thelightsking , @sunhuli , @lunasolandtheloa , @darkspeared , @mwindaji @darkspearakhuni , @thehumbleknight , @asharinhun  , @valerians-travels , @vaesha-draecon , @crownofstormwind , @medivh-the-prophet , @regennt ,  @warcraftings  @obsidianprinxess @meet-the-far @arcane-harbinger @medivh-the-prophet @asharinhun @ceruleanelf @verosmoonshine @sunscraft

#Headcanon #thanks for the tag ;D