#sunguard sitewrite
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Sunguard Sitewrite Entry 1
Write a journal entry for your character dated ten years in the future.
It was a good day today.
When I woke up this morning, I was free of pain. My knee wasn’t nearly as swollen as it usually is. It was a good thing, too, as Alna’cenia had awoken long before me and was practically breaking down the door in her eagerness to begin the day’s training. She practically stuffed my leg into the brace the Doctor Novastorm, his brother Thordemar, and Adrianal designed for my leg, shoved a shirt over my head, and jammed my crutches under my arms so I could hurry up and hobble downstairs for breakfast- one that she had prepared. Her mother and sister are busy off in the woods doing...whatever it is druids do in their free time (talking to trees or birds or I’m honestly not sure what), so it’s just been the two of us.
Words aren’t enough to express just how proud I am of Alna. She’s grown into a fine young woman, a beacon of what it is to be one of our kind. Strong, proud, bullheaded and a stubborn streak ten miles wide. That girl has a fire in her heart that burns as hot as any forge and she’s determined to master the techniques her mother has allowed me to teach. The lessons are conducted the only way I know how: harshly. I know Nuellen cringes whenever we take to the training yard and our daughter comes home covered in bruises, but I think she understands the necessity of the punishment Alna endures. Maybe endures isn’t the right word- she almost welcomes it, in a way.
One more challenge. That’s all she sees.
As I sit here at my desk, I can only wish I was healthy enough to really train with her. The brace helps a good deal, but it’s not the same and it never will be again. Doctor Novastorm insists I be cautious with it, that it can only augment what little structural integrity is left in my leg, and I can but heed his advice. It’s frustrating. I hate this. The damage is so extensive that it’s not even possible to remove my leg entirely and replace it with an augmented prosthetic like Thordemar wears. Doctor Novastorm explained it to me once. Something about...mana channels and nerve endings and a lot of excessively long words that I couldn’t even spell to look up in a dictionary if I wanted to.
I hate this. So much.
But I can’t dwell on that. I won’t.
What I will focus on is helping my daughter become the best knight she can be, regardless of which path she chooses. I’m proud of who she is and who she’s becoming.
That, regardless of everything else, made it a good day.
( @brothersemberfell, @ocarina-of-what, @thedragonisaprincess for mentions )
#Sunguard#sunguard sitewrite#Moon Guard#WoW#World of Warcraft#RP#Role Play#Writing#Blood Knight#Ethalarian
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Site Write Finale: Do What You’re Told.
Final Prompt:
“Everything we have done or will do we will do over and over and over again— forever.” Consider your character’s leitmotifs. Write a story that expresses the cyclical nature of the leitmotif, and the rise and fall of these themes in your character’s narrative. If it helps you to place the story to music, you may do so, but it is not required.
"You need to do as you're told, dear." Ileosa's mother was smiling but her stance was a stern one, looking down at her daughter. She stood over the child in a messy room, toys strewn about. A small wooden sword at the little girls feet.
"No! I dun' wanna!" the little red head wasn't more than 5 years old. Her cheeks puffed out, arms folded, she would stomp a single foot on the floor to affirm her position on the matter. Clearly there was no budging.
"But.. Didn't you promise to do your chores when it was noon?"
The firm demeanor wavered a little, and she looked up at her mother. She was a tall woman, fit and healthy and perhaps someday Ile would be as tall as her even! "Uhm.. A bit. Maybe. But. I dun' like chores."
"I know you don't like chores but you promised! And it's always important to keep your promises, and to do what the adults tell you! We're only looking out for you."
The little girl pouted, her lip quivered in an attempt to sway her terrible oppressor. Wide blue eyes with an attempt at almost tears. Though even then her feet shuffled in her uncertainty. "But! It was only a little promise. And I could do them laaater?"
"Ile no. You agreed to do them now." the pout increased and the fair lady sunstorm sighed, crouching down. "You know promise breakers don't get any dessert after dinner."
A look of horror encroached on the small childs face. "THEY DON'T!?"
Her mother gave a sagely nod. "I'm afraid not. Dessert is for people who keep promises and do their chores like they're meant to.."
There was no hesitation as the little Ileosa waddled over to begin picking up stray toys and tidying up the room. Her mother watched from the doorway, a smile on her face as her husband approached.
"Trouble with our lovely daughter?" he kissed her on the cheek and grinned at the flurry of activity within the room.
"Mm. Some. But she seems sorted out at least for now. Though I do wish threats weren't necessary. Even mild ones of no dessert"
"We have to be tough sometimes. Besides, I'm sure one day she won't need incentives to do what she's asked."
"I'm sure you're right" she sighed a little and leaned into him. "Though I swear she may be the death of me someday."
...
"Remember to always follow orders when given to you by a superior Officer." the Captain walked briskly along the line of trainees. He was a man of broad stature, and quite an intimidating fellow as his gaze fell across the barely minted soldiers they would stand to attention. Heavy plated boots made a audible thud with each step he made. He paused at one particular recruit. Ileosa Sunstorm, daughter to a Lieutenant from a cavalier unit and a Captain in the Farstriders. He knew her father quite well, a good soldier and a reliable friend as well.
She regarded him with no small amount of respect as she realized quite quickly she'd become the subject of scrutiny.
"You there, Sunstorm." he watched her carefully.
"Yes sir?" she shifted a little though remained at attention.
"In that last exercise, you were ordered to retreat but stood your ground against the opponents. Why?"
"Sir, it seemed like the bout was winnable and we could have-"
"You were to retrieve the 'wounded' and withdraw to our own lines. One of your fellow soldiers had been tagged and was by your feet."
Her ears wilted, though her stance remained strong she nevertheless began to look embarrassed.
"By ignoring your orders you put one of your comrades at risk, had he been truly wounded he could have bled out in response to your engaging the enemy over tactical retreat."
"I.. Yes sir." her confidence was deflated as she recieved this dressing down.
"In future if you are given a direct order like that, think of how it will affect those who fight by your side. Officers do not give orders without a good reason. Now. You'll be doing ten laps around the training grounds in full armor so that you remember this lesson. That is an order."
"...Yes sir." the warrior slumped slightly before giving him a salute and breaking from the line to begin her laps, her cheeks red with embaressment. The Captain watched her move off before returning to the rest of the recruits. It was a hard lesson but one they all needed to understand. Discipline led to victory. She would no doubt thank him for it in the future.
...
"Obey the commands of our Prince"
The thought was at the forefront of Ileosa's mind. She'd been assigned for the moment to Sunfury Hold with her fellow soldiers. The Aldor and the Scryers had sent many to attempt to penetrate their defenses – so more troops were required in the meantime. At times it felt strange, as they cut down human and sin'dorei alike. These were our brothers and sisters what had led them so astray? Ever since the betrayal of Voren'thal and his followers the world felt somehow... wrong.
Why would anyone leave the Prince's service? He was the leader of their Kingdom. Of all who were above her he was at the very top. He couldn't possibly lead them astray. Without him she and many others would not have learned to wield the Light of Mu'ru as their own – Masters of that power instead of mere servants to it's supposed whims. And they would have all surely starved had he not figured out how to drain the magic from other sources.
Those who stayed loyal to him were even granted access to ever more potent mana gems. Ileosa could not deny just how good it felt to fill those cravings with the intoxicating energies. Without them it was just too hard to think through the haze of need. She was taken care of. They all were. Without all this they'd surely perish in the wastes of Outland and even beyond.
Knowing all this quelled any concerns she had for the present. These people were traitors. They deserved no quarter nor mercy from her or anyone else. Even her mother and father had fallen to the lies and falsehoods that brought them to the Aldor. They had turned from their Prince. But Ileosa knew the path to their salvation was to obey, and trust in her superiors. This was the only truth.
...
To be an obedient servant granted rewards. And I had been nothing if not obedient. Our Prince turned us to a path of power. A path that would see our cravings seen to. More turned away to the waiting arms of the Quel'thalas when they learned the truth. We were to be part of something great, something immeasurably vast in scope and power. The Burning Legion were our Masters. And do those of us that obeyed. Who served diligently and never wavered in our loyalty? We are being granted the gift of ascendancy.
And so it was I came to be in this place. Surrounded by succubi in a chamber of hedonism and delights, my brothers and sisters lay here too. We were here to reap the benefits of conquering the Sunwell. But more than that I was here for my greatest reward. One of the demons here had been drained of her blood, the green ichor now filled a large bowl that rested within my hands.
This is what I deserved. This is the prize for loyalty and obedience and now it is mine. I will be an even greater servant than I was before and The Deceiver will enter the world through the apex of what once gave us all life. More rewards will come. I bring the bowl to my lips and I tip it back - this power will be mine. And I will serve my Master for eternity.
Glory to Kil'jaeden!
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Site Write Finale: Hopes and Reality
Finale: “Everything we have done or will do we will do over and over and over again - forever.” Consider your character’s leitmotifs. Write a story that expresses the cyclical nature of the leitmotif, and the rise and fall of those themes in your character’s narrative. If it helps you to place the story to music, you may do so, but it is not required.
Themes: Innocence, Naivety, Idealism, and protection from the horrors of war
—
Horde forces make headway against Worgen blockades
Koramm scowled at the headline, setting the newspaper down on the table in front of him. Taking a bit of the meat pie set on the plate before him, the tauren looked out on the crowd walking through the streets of the Dawnspire. For these citizens, there was not a care in the world beyond their everyday duties. And that was the goal, was it not? They fought so that no harm would come to the civilians of Azeroth. They protected the world against the dangers brought forth by the Burning Legion, by the Lich King, and by countless other malevolent forces. Why, then, was it that the Horde and Alliance could not see peace with each other?
There had been growing sentiments of possible peace after the combined might of the Horde and Alliance had dethroned the Lich King. The Cataclysm had ruined that, and Thrall’s departure from the office of Warchief had guaranteed it. Garrosh and his war mongering ruined any chance of that. If Vol’Jin had survived, perhaps, since he was willing to work with the Alliance to retake Orgrimmar, but with Windrunner in charge of the Horde, it would never come to pass.
Koramm picked up the newspaper once more and returned to reading, sipping occasionally from a nearby cup of tea and picking at the the slowly cooling meat pie. While the newspaper was mostly focused around the lives of those living near the Dawnspire, as would be expected, it did occasionally provide glimpses into the happenings of Azeroth at large, which made it a worthy thing to read.
“Emberward Stonehoof, you are needed immediately at the infirmary.”
Koramm set the paper down, looking at the elf now standing before him. He was young, his hair askew and his voice ragged, clearly out of breath. “What’s going on?”
The elf did not pause for even a moment, despite the deep breaths between words. “The mission to assist the Nightborne has returned. There are many wounded.”
Koramm stood instantly, kicking the chair back and the table out from above his legs. Giving a brief nod towards the elf, the tauren took off towards the infirmary. If he was getting called in now, the infirmary must have been swamped, the healers on duty overwhelmed by sheer numbers. It would take him a little bit to cross the keep and make it to the infirmary, but it was his duty to assist in whatever way he could.
When the tauren finally opened the doors to the infirmary, his eyes went wide at the sight. The beds were filled with various levels of injuries, from simple broken bones to those currently unconscious and being worked on by doctors. His mind raced back to Northrend, the last time he had seen an infirmary so full. Where there, especially towards the end, many of the patients had been long term, driven mad by the whispers of the Old Gods, here the patients were all new, freshly injured and in need of immediate treatment.
Koramm swiftly moved towards the back of the room, heading for the offices. He needed to get into his robes, he’d grab a pair pair from the stock room as there was no time to make his way home. He needed to start healing. He was supposed to have gone with the party, but he had fallen ill and had to stay behind lest he drag the team down. Now they had returned, and in a far worse state.
“Did you hear? Seems like a number of the higher ranked soldiers were captured by demons.”
Koramm turned and looked at a pair of new recruits chatting with each other in the corner, his ears picking up their words as he walked by. He paused and glared at them. “What the bloody hell are you two doing? If you have time to gossip, you have time to go get more bandages and bring them out to the people doing their fucking jobs. Get to work!”
The elves stared up at him before bolting. Koramm’s mind reeled as he found his way to the stock room and began pulling on the uniform required of the Dawnmenders working in the infirmary. Could it truly have been true, what the recruits had said, that a number of the Sunguard had been captured in the mission that he had missed? It would certainly explain the sheer number of injured currently residing within the infirmary.
Still, in the months that Koramm had been amongst the Sunguard, no such loss had ever taken place. People had surely been injured, some even severely, but there had been no casualties, no members lost from their battles. It had been foolish to think that such a streak of luck could last forever, but Koramm had, and the loss sent him reeling.
“This is exactly why we need to put aside our differences with the Alliance and work together to destroy the Legion.” The thought rushed into Koramm’s head and was just as quickly dismissed. Now was not the time to be lamenting the idiocy of faction leadership. No, the only thing to focus on now was healing those that were in front of him, and once that was done to look ahead to see how he could assist in recovering those that they had lost. Once that was done, he could fantasize about a possible future once again.
Koramm straightened himself and turned, looking back towards the infirmary’s rooms. “Time to get to work.”
@sparklepriest
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A Mother’s Gifts
Day 2: What is/was your character’s relationship with their parents? How do they express their feelings towards one another – or, if their parents are deceased, do they carry on their legacy in some fashion?
“Mamaaaaaa.”
The small cry came from the boy’s room. Trysten’s strong voice, weak and plaintive as he called out for her over and over. The first time that he had, her ears perked and she set down the dishes in favor of finding her eldest son. On her way from the kitchen she made a mental checklist of where she’d last seen all of her children. Zephenaye was off with her tutor. Today she was supposed to be learning the virtues of preparing all the materials one would need for spellcasting before hand. Bael was in the living room, drawing his endless designs with just his charcoal. Nonsensical, but intricate. Trysten was….Trysten was...Trysten slept in this morning. She hadn’t thought anything of it when it had been earlier in the morning, but now? It was past noon and this wasn’t like him at all. With an extra jump in her step, she hurried to his room and found the sallow faced boy still in bed. A slight sheen of sweat had covered his face and his hair was messy and damp.
With her arms open wide, she scooped him up from the bed and put herself in his spot, cuddling him in her lap.
“My baby boy…” She cooed as she felt his forehead, brows furrowed when she felt the slight warmth of his skin. Only a slight fever, but this being one of the boy’s only sicknesses in his life...well he didn’t know how to take it. Vivvienne gently rocked him and spoke in a soothing tone that channeled her mother’s own voice.
“I’ll go get you some water, a syrup, I’ll even make you a soup, would you like that?”
The freckled boy nodded and murmured a small ‘uh-huh’ in return.
She continued to rock him, humming a song that until she’d had children of her own, she’d nearly forgotten. It wasn’t famous or even well known, but a song from the small hamlet that she’d left for Dalaran.
She thought back to her mother and father and how they would dote upon her. If she was sick it was automatically a day home from the children’s program and a day away from the loom for her mother. They would spend the day together, singing, telling stories and on occasion Caeryndyn would teach her daughter special tricks that she’d picked up over her years at the loom. She’d missed that, the special bond that she had with her mother and father. It was times like these that her heart ached with the old pain of their passing.
As these thoughts brought tears to her eyes, she cuddled Trysten even closer and shifted him back to his bed. This is how she would keep them alive. The love that she bestowed on her own children. Love and her memory was all that she had to remember them by and at least with love she could spread the memory of her parents to her own children.
So, with one last wipe of his brow before she left the room to begin the soup she vowed that she would always love each and every one of her children to the fullest and support them, help them grow just as her parents had sacrificed for her. Pass down their traditions as best she could and hope that through the three of them, her parents would be proud.
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Site Write Day 15 - Tending the Fields
Day 15: Free Write.
Dawnmender Mission: Sunfury Fields
—
Koramm let out a sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow as he sat back on his haunches, taking a few moments break to look back upon the morning’s work. The noon sun was high overhead, the heat bearable, thankfully. He was grateful of the area’s seemingly eternal fair weather, rarely subject to the scorching summers that could strike Mulgore. Even so, a full day under a cloudless sky toiling away in a field would make any creature sweat.
Still, as the tauren looked behind him, nearly half the small section of the field that he had assigned had been planted. Koramm was proud of his work. The rows were neat and evenly spaced, and as far as he could tell, the soil was rich properly fertilized, The elves that regularly tended these fields, he was happy to admit, knew what they were doing. With a quick stretch to relieve the pressure on his back, Koramm returned to work, taking the seeds of wheat from the sack on his side, poking a hole with one of his big fingers in the mounded pathways of dirt, and depositing the seed inside before gently covering it once again and moving a short ways down the line.
It took a few hours, but Koramm completed all the work in the fields that had been assigned to him for the day. With a smile, the tauren dusted himself off, removing as much of the dirt from his clothes as he could, before he made his way away from the fields and towards the nearby town. He was eager to see how the rest of the Dawnmenders had made out on their own duties.
“Hey you, tauren!”
Koramm turned as he heard the elf call out to him. The man stood next to a few others nearby, clearly the regular farmers of the fields from their attire. “Yes? How can I help you?” he said, as he approached the group.
“Oh no, there’s nothing to help with right now,” the elf replied, “just wanted to thank you, was all. We appreciate all the help that the Sunguard has sent to us, and you seemed to know what you were doing out there, maybe even enjoyed yourself a little.”
The tauren chuckled. “You’d be right there. I may be a healer by trade, but I am an herbalist at heart as well. I’ve harvested and tended to plants all my life, I have my own little garden back near the Dawnspire for a few experiments I have going on. I know the general basics, but I’ve never had to work like that at this scale. It’s a bit exhausting.”
“You’re telling us.” The elf smiled. “You get used to it the more you do it, but the first few months of farm work can be a real killer.” He extended his hand towards the tauren. “The name’s Renthor.”
Koramm took the hand and shook it firmly. “Koramm. Your fields really are fantastic. I mean, I know you elves tend to have good weather year round, but I didn’t smell much fertilizer out there. Do you rotate the crops?”
The elf nodded in approval. “Yeah. It’s not as large a harvest as when the fields are all planted with one crop, but it provides a more varied food supply, and keeps the soil self regenerating. There have been harvests where we’ve had to plant all one crop to make up for a particularly bad year, but the crops grown the next season always suffer for it.”
“We do the same back in Mulgore. Rotate the crops between the fields to keep the soil healthy.” Koramm paused, an idea striking him suddenly. He reached into one of the few remaining sacks on his waist and pulled out a small journal.
“Say, I’m having a bit of a problem with some experiments of mine. I was wondering if maybe I could get your input…”
#The Sunguard#Koramm Stonehoof#Tauren#Moon Guard#Site Write#Sitewrite#Dawnmender#Dawnmender Mission#farming#herbalism#WoW#World of Warcraft#My Writing
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Site Write Day 6 - Presents
Day 6: Pick a Cliche. Write a story based on that cliche; the phrase does not have to directly appear in the narrative. You are welcome to use multiple cliches.
Bull in a China Shop
—
Koramm slowly made his way through the store, heading towards the counter at the back. The aisles were far too narrow for his liking, especially with the vast quantity of extremely fragile glass and ceramic objects lining the shelved. Still, the tauren slowly threaded his way to the counter, where a lone elf looked up at him. “How can I help you, sir?”
The tauren looked around sheepishly. “You see, I was invited to get tea with a colleague of mine in the near future, but I wasn’t sure he would have anything that would, you know, fit me when it came to being usable. I was wondering if you might have any teacups of an appropriate size.”
The elf continued to start up at the tauren quizzically. “Ah yes…” the elf paused, looking around. “Unfortunately, we don’t have any items in stock that would fit someone of your… size. Such a thing would have to be special ordered, and would take quite a while to come in.”
With a sigh, Koramm shook his head. “I figured you would say something like that. In that case, I’ll settle for getting a set of cups for my host and his husband. They’re a healer and a mage, is there something perhaps you could suggest?”
For a good twenty minutes, the elf brought out cups, showing Koramm the differences in their designs and construction. Finally, the tauren settled on a set of delicate china cups, a green and pink floral pattern covering both the cups and their saucers. The cups were packed carefully in paper, padding against damage, and then put into a box, tied shut. The tauren paid, and carefully made his way through the narrow aisles to the store’s exit, where he heard a sigh of relief from behind him as the door swung shut.
@ocarina-of-what
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Sitewrite 5: Concerning the Dead
C,
It’s been a long time. I don’t know why I’m doing this now of all times but I just feel oddly compelled. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wonder what happened to you, that I wonder why you just vanished into thin air. There is a part of me that wants to hold out hope that you’re still alive out there somewhere, that someday I might have the great fortune to see you again...but the rest of me, the realistic part of me, knows that’s probably not true. You’ve been gone for seven years now.
I still feel responsible.
I know. It’s stupid and I know you’d tell me exactly that and probably in exactly those words, but I can’t help it. I was your Captain. As such, my primary task was to see to your safety and I failed in that in so many ways I can’t even begin to count them. After you left, my life was just one string of failures after another. Friends, partners, lovers- I lost them all left and right until I just couldn’t take it anymore. Would you be disappointed in me for the way it all unfolded, the way I resigned my post and just let things run their course?
Sun above, I think it would kill me.
Things haven’t been all bad, though. I made the decision to come back home not too long ago and joined up with the militia- the Sunguard. I don’t know if you’d remember them or their former Archon, Felthier. I think they had just made their split not long before you-
Nevermind that. I’ve enjoyed my time here. They’re loud, they’re rowdy, they’re undisciplined but beyond that they’re family in a way I never imagined them being. Serving with them has been taking me back to the old days when we first joined the Seventh. I’d do anything for these people. I’ll fight for them. Die for them, if I have to, and not have a regret in the world.
Well. Maybe one. I don’t know if you knew Nuellen. She used to come around the Enclave a lot, spend time with us on the steps when we were on duty. I never would have expected things to go the way they have between us, but I’m glad for it. She’s been a comforting presence in my life and I don’t know where I’d be without her. Actually, I’d probably be dead in Gadgetzan were it not for her. She’s become very, very dear to me in this last year that we’ve been together and I hope that trend continues for a long time.
I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t terrified, though. Every woman I’ve ever gotten close to- it hasn’t ended well. I still have nightmares about you. About Arkaera. About Lillithane. I won’t let that happen to her- I can’t.
Fuck, I’m rambling now aren’t I? I was never good at these kinds of things but.
Really all I wanted to say, all I’ve ever wanted to say, is I’m sorry.
I’m sorry and I miss you.
-E
( @nuellen and @felthier for mentions )
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Site Write Day 14 - Paint
Day 14: Write about a person or thing that your character loves.
—
“Just a little bit more…”
Koramm dipped a brush into the cerulean paint that he had purchased from a store not an hour beforehand, letting the excess drip from the bristles. The jar of paint had not been large, but it had been enough, and now it was almost completely gone. And so the tauren moved the brush from the jar to the nearby wooden totem, filling in the lines that had faded, or had been scratched during battle.
With a sigh, the tauren set the brush down, looking at his handiwork. Koramm was no artist, not by a long shot, and although he was certain that he could have paid one to do the work, both faster and better, this was a job that he himself must do. The totem was too personal, too sacred to him to allow another to work on.
It had been the last thing his mother had given him before she had passed on.
The wood that the totem had been carved from, although enchanted for durability, was not indestructible. Here and there along its body, gouges showed where the wood had been beaten away by the claws, fangs, or swords of enemies. Even so, the paint job, the best that the tauren could provide, ran through those missing pieces as if they had always been there.
Koramm feared the day that the totem broke for good, the day that he would have to replace it and lose the last remaining tie to his parents.
But this was not that day.
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Sitewrite 02: Birthdays and Shallow Graves
( Recommended listening )
For the first time in a couple weeks, Shahin found himself awake before dawn. He lay in bed as part of a tangle of limbs, watching the subtle rise and fall of Nuellen’s chest as she slept peacefully beside him. Though he wanted nothing more than to just lay there and listen to the steady rhythm of her breath and feel the rhythmic thump of her heartbeat, he knew he could not. There was far too much to do this day. With a sigh he carefully untangled himself from the dark-haired ranger, who grumbled and whimpered for a brief moment as the source of heat she’d been cozied up to removed itself. Shivers raced up his spine as bare feet met the cool stone floor of the bedroom as he pushed himself onto his feet and out of bed.
There was no time for a shower, at least not this early morning, so he took only a few moments to dress himself and pull on his boots as quietly as he was able. Nuellen tended to be a bit of a heavy sleeper but he didn’t want to run the risk of waking her up. Getting to sleep in was a rare treat for her with Alna’cenia and Kylora being the boundless bundles of energy they were. Thankfully, Kylora had decided to go visit with her new auntie Velianor for a weekend of piano lessons and exploring the old woods and Alna’cenia had taken a trip with her uncle to some of the old parishes down south, likely to study under the clergy and expand her base of knowledge regarding the Light. Such a rare opportunity wasn’t one he wanted her to pass up, so Shahin took another moment to pen a quick note explaining he had business for the day and that he would be home sometime in the evening.
Satisfied that would be enough, the sandy-haired knight quietly slipped from the bedroom and pulled the door closed behind him. He paused a few moments on the other side of the door just to make sure she wasn’t going to wake up and follow him, then breathed a sigh of relief. Satisfied, he then set to the task of making it out the front door without disturbing Nuellen’s menagerie of animals. He carefully crept around and over the many different piles of snoring fur and grumbling scales here and there until, finally, he made it to the front door- but as he reached to pull the door open, he felt a tug at his sleeve. When Shahin turned, he found himself practically eye to eye with the hulking, black furred frame of Nuellen’s most trusted hunting companion, Amarr.
“Go on,” he insisted quietly, gesturing back to the beast’s bed, “go back to sleep, Amarr. I’m just going out for a little while.”
Unconvinced, Amarr stayed exactly where he was. Shahin wagered if the creature could speak it would be scolding him for trying to sneak out. Again, he tried to insist Amarr go back to sleep and, again, Amarr was unmoved. Like it or not, the direwolf seemed to say, I’m coming with you. Recalling an old analogy about an eight hundred pound gorilla and its preferred sleeping arrangements, Shahin decided arguing with a direwolf was probably a futile task and resigned himself to having a very unique companion for the day. Together, the pair left from Nuellen’s apartment and started winding their way through the early morning Silvermoon streets and earning odd looks from those that found themselves out and about. The poor girl who ran the flower stand Shahin had stopped at to make a purchase looked like she was standing in front of a firing squad the whole time they were there.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Shahin had told her with a wide smile, “he’s really harmless. Big baby.” She did not look convinced.
From the flower shop, Amarr and Shahin continued south through the gate and out into the enchanted forest that had made Silvermoon such a mystical place to outsiders. While the wards that controlled the weather had been weakened by the Scourge and the significantly reduced Greenseers to maintain them, there were still enough in place to keep the chill of the morning air to be quite so biting as they would have been otherwise. These winding paths, endless well-traveled, were as familiar to Shahin as the back of his hand. Years ago, when he was a boy, he and his father had walked these routes on a near daily basis on their trips to Silvermoon and the outlying townships to meet and talk with the merchants.
His father was a tall man with a big smile and a bigger laugh that just had a way of putting people at ease in his presence in spite of his intimidating height and frame. Everyone he met was like family and he had been known to go far out of his way to lend a hand when and where he could, even when his own family was struggling to make ends meet. Take care of your community, son, and your community will take care of you. Briefly, Shahin wondered what his father would make of what had become of the country he loved so much. Would he be disappointed? Would he have made similar decisions that Shahin had? Would he be proud of his son for serving as he did, or would he be disappointed?
It had been so long since Shahin had last visited home he wasn’t entirely sure what the answer would be. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain his father’s disappointment would not be nearly as crushing as his mother’s. While not a particularly large woman, his mother was strong of will and stronger of arm. He could remember her practically working laps around him and his brother when they were younger, all the time with a smile on her face and a song on her lips. She always did seem to be happiest when she had something to occupy her hands. Despite this, she was kind and encouraging and always pushed both boys to be the best that they could be. To earn their mother’s approving smile was as elating as anything in the world and could make a man feel ten feet tall. To make her frown, disappointed, could make a man feel smaller than a grain of sand.
As noon neared, the sun hanging high overhead, Amarr and Shahin reached the end of their journey. Far to the south of Quel’thalas, near the mouth of the Thalassian Pass, was his family’s farmstead. Like everything else in the Ghostlands, it was dilapidated, run down, and unnaturally cold. All he could hear were the steady rhythm of his boots crunching in the dirt and Amarr padding along behind him. Usually at this time of day, his mother and father would be around back behind the house feeding the chickens and that’s where he knew he would find them.
“Ann’da, minn’da,” he called out as they rounded the corner of the farmhouse, “I’m home. Sorry I’m late- I brought you flowers.”
There was no reply. As a matter of fact, there had been no reply from either of them in almost twenty years- and there never would be. Just a few feet past the corner of the house, in the middle of what had once been a garden plot, were three small placards laid out abreast in a row. Shahin knelt at the one in the middle and laid the flowers he’d bought- a bouquet of white lilies- down on the ground. Tears stung at his eyes as he sat down in the dirt and hugged his knees to his chest.
“Happy birthday, minn’da,” he said lowly as Amarr chuffed and sat down behind him, giving him something to lean against, “I miss you.”
( @nuellen @ocarina-of-what for mentions )
#Shahin#Shahin the Phoenix#World of Warcraft#The Sunguard#Moon Guard#Roleplaying#Role Play#RP#Sitewrite
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Site Write Day 18 - Dreams
Day 18: Pick a lyrical song and orient a short passage around the song’s lyrics or meaning. You do not have to directly copy the lyrics from the song, although you could; the story can be only tangentially related if you prefer. The idea is to use a song of your choosing to inspire your text. (Link your song if you think it would be helpful for understanding, but it’s not necessary!)
Chosen song: Nightwish - Meadows of Heaven: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JmXk1UhlIgg
—
The dreams still came to Koramm, especially on nights after long battles. He would put out the lights, and close his eyes, letting his mind drift off to sleep. And that is when the images would come flooding back to him. Mulgore, as it had been in his youth. The plains, the trees and rivers, just as they had been well over a decade prior, still gleaming, still untouched by the Cataclysm, by the Grimtotem’s betrayal, by the goblins attempting to ravage their lands without permission.
Even so, the temptations of the dreams were far too real. In them, he was like a child once more, carefree and without fear. He would run through the woods, climb the mountains, seek out the hidden places of Mulgore, all with the elements travelling at his side, and in his heart. While the journeys were always different, they always came to the same end; Koramm would travel home, back to Thunder Bluff, and there he would rest, cradeled between his mother and father, alive once more.
In the end, though, it was all a dream, as it always was. Koramm would awake once more, on the ground of the room too small for his size. He would stand, lighting the lanterns again, opening the blinds to let in the early morning light. There would be no forests to run freely through, no rivers to swim or fish in until the evening grew late, no secret caves or bear dens, empty of their denizens. No mother or father to run back to at the end of it all. Only he remained of those days, him and his broken connection to the elements. The Sunguard remained, their campaign constant and unending. His shifts in the infirmary remained, as did the injured that required tending.
And as much as the dreams hurt, for all they reminded him of what did not remain, Koramm treasured those brief glimpses into the past. They were what kept him moving forwards, working towards a future in which he and those he loved could live in that peace once again.
#The Sunguard#Koramm Stonehoof#Sitewrite#Site Write#Moon Guard#Tauren#World of Warcraft#Mulgore#WoW#Dreams#Dreaming#History#My Writing
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SiteWrite Day 1 - Emptyness
1st: Which words, phrases, or concepts do your characters most overuse in conversation, and why? In what context? “
Koramm doesn't actually talk all that much, but when he does, he tends to talk about the elements. It may not exactly be unusual for a shaman to do so, but for Koramm, well.....
Actual story below the cut. Adding the cut due to length
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“Okay. You can do this, just relax and focus.”
Koramm closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a few deep breaths and hold them, slowing his breathing. With a practiced motion, the tauren reached into the pouch at his side, removing a handful of the dried herbs from within and threw them into the small fire at the centre of his tent. The fire flared, illuminating the sparse interior of the tent, just a bedroll, a few alchemy tools, some herbs, and a few totems. Koramm himself was seated just to the side of the tent’s entrance, which had the flap closed, leaving the tent dark beyond the light of the fire.
Taking another deep breath, the air now rich with the scent of the burning herbs, the tauren focused, and began reaching out with his spirit. “Where are you?” he questioned, though he did not speak the words. It had been six months now since he had lost his connection to the elements. No longer could he feel their presence, hear their words, or know if they heard his calls. They had been there all his life, and now, without them, he could feel the gap in his heart that they had once filled, and it left him constantly wanting. And so, each day, as the sun reached its peak, Koramm returned to his tent to perform the ritual.
He knew why the elements had left him, and the tauren could not blame them. That connection, that bond with the elements that he shared as a shaman, Koramm had ignored it for nearly four years now. Ever since the Cataclysm, when Deathwing had rocked the world, his connection had grown weaker. At first, he had returned home to Mulgore to help his people recover from the damage caused by the great dragon, and to mourn over the death of their chieftain, Cairne. He should have left, he needn’t have stayed nearly four years in Mulgore. He had felt his connection to the elements growing weaker, and the tauren worked at it, performing rituals to try and regain what he had once had. It was not his dedication that led the elements to abandon him. No, it was his refusal to listen, his refusal to leave Mulgore and travel to where the elements truly needed help in Azeroth. That is why the elements had abandoned him.
Even so, he knew that he could not give up on them. All his life Koramm had been a shaman, and that would not change now. Reaching out even further, the tauren called out once more. “Please, just tell me where you are! Let me connect to you once again, and I will follow you to wherever you need me most.”
Silence was all that answered the desperate tauren.
With a stifled sob, Koramm removed the top of the totem that sat to his side, lifting the totem proper and emptying the water within over the fire, which extinguished itself with a large bellow of smoke. Scraping a handful of dirt from the floor, the tauren sprinkled it over the smouldering embers before lifting the flap of his tent and covering his eyes from the bright afternoon sunlight.
“Nothing again, I see.”
Koramm shook his head at the young child in front of him. Barely coming up to his waste, the girl stared up at him smiling, the small green ribbons tied onto her braids rustling slightly in the light breeze. “Unfortunately not, Kasa.” He wiped away the remainder of a tear from his fur. “Since you’re waiting for me out here, I’m assuming that Pand needs me.”
“Yeah, he said that a couple of warriors got injured while out hunting. Quillboar were especially vicious today.”
“Run ahead then, child. Tell Pand that I’ll be there in a minute. If he can bandage the woulds up for me, I should be able to handle the rest, even without the elements’ help.”
Koramm turned and walked back into his tent as the young tauren girl ran off towards the Spirit Rise. With surprising grace, the tauren picked a number of leaves from the herbs growing at the far side of the tent and tucked them, and a few nearby bundles, into the pouches that lined his waist.
Soon, he was stepping onto the solid ground of the Spirit Rise after crossing the rope bridge. No matter how many times he made the trip, the bridge still unnerved him, feeling like it could break apart at any moment. Even so, his attention soon fell on the tauren groaning with pain as he came to Pand’s place. The black tauren turned to him as soon as he heard Koramm coming. “Good, you’re here. The gash is deep, and the bone’s fractured at least. I could use your help setting it, and I’m sure you brought the herbs to help fight infection.”
Koramm looked over the warrior. The tauren’s upper thigh was covered in a tight bandage that was already beginning to stain itself red. Setting his bag down, Koramm gestured towards Kasa, who was standing not far behind Pand. “Go get the stick, he’s going to need something to bite down on.”
The young girl scattered away as Koramm removed a few of the bundles from his pouches and opened them, revealing small bundles of herbs that he added the freshly picked leaves to. Taking a mortar and pestle from his bag, he set to grinding them up into a paste as Kasa returned with a wooden stick covered in a thick piece of leather. Taking it, Koramm stood and moved towards the head of the injured warrior. “Okay, I’m going to stick this in your mouth, just make sure to keep your tongue away from your teeth. There are some anesthetic herbs mixed into what I’m going to put into the wound to prevent infection, but until they kick in, it’s going to sting. And even with them, once we move to set the bong, you’re GOING to feel that, so just bite down on the stick when the pain starts kicking in.”
With a nod of understanding from the injured warrior, Koramm set the stick between his teeth before returning to his own work. Finishing the paste, he unwrapped the tight dressing, seeing the deep gash that Pand had mentioned. Koramm held his hand out for a wet cloth, knowing that Kasa would be right there with one, and she proved herself to be just as reliable as always. Cleaning around the wound, the tauren dipped his fingers into the paste and rubbed some just inside the gash, hearing the injured warrior groaning and hissing in pain. Setting the remainder of the paste aside, he gestured to Pand, who came over with a needle and thread in hand, stitching the wound closed. Rubbing the remainder of the paste on the inside of a new dressing, he handed the fabric over to Pand to wrap the wound.
Kara appeared from the back of the place, once more proving her reliability, with two more small lengths of wood and some heavier bindings. With a nod of appreciation, Koramm took them and looked to the patient. “Okay, just as a further warning, this is going to hurt, unfortunately. Just bear with me while I set the bone, then Pand will bind it in place.” He handed the tools for binding the bone in pace off to Pand, getting himself ready before he continued. “You’re going to have to stay off the bone for a while, so,” Koramm pushed down suddenly, hearing the patient cry out around the stick in his mouth as Pand’s hands moved in quickly to bind everything in place, “looks like you will be on bed rest for a while.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Koramm straightened his back as he stood up. “I thought Kasa said there were a few injured warriors.”
Pand chuckled. “There were. The others were just minor scrapes though, just enough to need some bandaging, nothing deep.”
“Good, better that my skills only be needed rarely, it means that we’re all healthy and safe.” Koramm packed his bags once more. “If anything else happens, or you need me for something else, I’m headed down to the well, just send Kasa.”
With a final nod, the tauren turned and headed towards the nearest elevator down to the ground. All he could think of was how much easier, and better he could have healed that wound if the elements would still listen to his call. If he could still hear their voices, that warrior would likely be walking home on his own two hooves this evening, if a little unsteadily.
No matter how long it took, Koramm would keep trying. Every day, even if it took him years, he would keep calling out to them for their guidance, until they called back.
——
“Earth Mother, please hear me, and guide my words to the elements.”
Once more, Koramm called out with his spirit to the elements, feeling out into the nether with all he could for just the tiniest twitch of life, or a response.
And, just for a moment, he felt it. The briefest flicker of life, of something out beyond his body listening. Slowly, he could feel the presence come closer and closer to him. And suddenly, he could feel it once more, his connection to the elements. It was faint, but even in the faintness it felt like a tidal wave hitting him in the chest. The ground rumbled slightly beneath him, causing the tauren to get quickly to his feet, and slowly a earth elemental pulled itself out of the ground, its brownish-grey stone body fleshed with the occasional shine of green. Koramm looked down at it, reaching out to it with his spirit.
“Emerite, eh?” He knelt down, extending his hand towards the small elemental that did not even reach to his knee.
“Thank you.”
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Sitewrite 7: Of Worgs and Small Children
And again, they were off. How children seemed to have such endless reserves of energy was a mystery no scholar would ever solve. Kylora and Alna’cenia had been up since practically before dawn and going and practically full-sprint the entire time. It was now just past noon and they showed absolutely no sign of slowing down. Poor Amarr had been run so ragged early in the morning that the Blonde had apparently decided it was her turn to entertain the pups for a while. For his part in this, Shahin had found himself a nice cozy spot on the couch in the den to stretch out in front of the fireplace and relax with a pleasant book. He made sure to look up every now and again to remind the girls that they should behave and that Amarr and the Blonde were worthy of their respect.
A loud laugh and an exasperated chuff drew Shahin’s attention up and away from his book and toward toward one of the back rooms where the girls had been playing. Standing in the doorway was the Blonde, her mane now adorned with dozens of brightly colored ribbons and...was that glitter? Don’t laugh. He told himself once- and then a few more times for good measure. Alna’cenia and Kylora both peered around the corner at him from behind the Blonde, knowing full-well a reprimand was likely soon to follow. The Blonde shuffled her way across the room to the couch and flopped to the ground, shaking the floor with a dull thud and a loud sigh through her nose.
Your turn Blood Elf, she seemed to say.
Nothing else to be had for it now, he supposed. Shahin carefully extracted himself from the couch and around the Blonde (making sure, of course, to thank her for putting up with the girls’ antics) and made his way to the girls’ back bedroom. He stood in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest, barring their only exit. A quick survey of the room gave the two of them away; Alna’cenia had opted to try and squeeze herself under her bed, but had neglected to account for the tips of her ears sticking out past the edge of the frame. Kylora had, as usual, tried to work her way up into the high ground of the closet and tucked herself away in a small space on the back of the top shelf.
“I promise you two will get hungry before I get tired.”
No answer. He pursed his lips.
“And I won’t sweet talk your minn’da into going for sweets when she gets home.”
“You wouldn’t!” declared a very shocked Alna’cenia as her little head popped out from under the bed.
“Oh, I would. I’m a Blood Knight, you know. We have a reputation for cruelty.”
Alna’cenia frowned deeply and scrambled out from under bed, making a face the whole time. Solemn as a prisoner facing the death penalty, she trudged over and stood in front of him with her hands behind her back and unwilling to make eye contact. One down, one to go.
“Kylora.” he called out from his place at the bedroom door. “You’re not going to make your poor sister suffer my terrible wrath all by herself, are you?”
Still no answer. Damn, that one was resilient.
“Oh well,” Shahin said far louder than there was any need to, “I guess you and I will just have to go get sweets by ourselves when minn’da gets home, Alna. Kylora can stay home and help clean up the mess.”
Crash. Thud. Gasp. “I’m okay!”
He laughed. That certainly got her attention.
( @nuellen )
#Shahin#Shahin the Phoenix#Moon Guard#RP#Role playing#World of Warcraft#WoW#Sunguard#The Sunguard#Sitewrite
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Site Write Day 25 - Clinic
Day 25: Select an alternate universe for your character and narrate their experience. How would they be different? This can be small changes in their narrative (a rogue is instead a priest, your character’s parents don’t die, etc.) or supplanting the character into an entirely different universe.
—
The waiting room of the small office was cozy, not sterile like one would expect. Done away with were the small, uniform plastic chairs, replaced by wooden ones, each with armrests and comfortable cushions. Small coffee tables were set into the corners, plants pushed back against the wall and magazines covering the rest of the space. An entire wall was dedicated to a small shelf, filled to the brim with toys for young children, and books of all genres for those that wished to read while they waited. Above the shelves, pictures drawn by kids had been hung, some with tape and others with tacks, marking their way across the room painted in a sky blue. Finally, under the check-in window, and next to the hallway that led further into the small clinic, was a mini-fridge with a glass front, revealing dozens of water bottles within, a sign taped to the front saying to help yourself if you needed a drink.
Despite the fullness of the room, nobody seemed angry or annoyed by having to wait. Soon enough, a mother and her young child came walking out, followed by the doctor. He was a tall man, and while by no means was he fully in shape, he had a thickness to his limbs that indicated that he made sure to take care of himself. He was young too, in his late twenties by most people’s guess, his face square but soft, a kindness always filling his eyes and a smile that never left. His skin, where it showed, was tanned, and his dark brown hair was long, tied back in a braided ponytail. His voice was deep and rich as he spoke. “Just remember, Eliza, make sure Julia takes the medication. I know she doesn’t like to, but she will get better much faster if she does. And don’t stop once she starts feeling better, either, make sure she finishes the doses.”
The mother turned back, nodding. “Of course, Doctor Stonehoof. You take care, alright?”
Koramm nodded. “Of course.” He handed the chart in his hands over to the secretary, a young man who couldn’t be a year or two past starting university, who handing him another. “Okay, Mrs. Johnson, you’re up. Just please head on back to the first door on the left, and I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Koramm stepped into the office as the little old lady passed him by. He gave the chart a quick look over to see what she was in for before stepping back into the hallway and heading towards the assigned room. “So, Mrs. Johnson, you’re here just for a checkup today?”
“That’s right, Doctor Stonehoof. I’ve been healthy most of the year, just want to make sure that I stay that way. “
The doctor chuckled. “How many times have I told you, call me Koramm. We’ve known each other since I was two, and you and your husband babysat me while mom and dad worked. How is Mr. Johnson anyways?”
The old lady laughed. “As many times as I’ve told you to call me Deliah, dear. And Pand is doing fine. His bones and joints are aching a bit more these past few months. I’ve told him to come in and see you, but he’s a stubborn old goat.”
“Well, tell him that he’s got an appointment, because I’m going to schedule one for him before you leave today. I want to make sure he’s in good health.” Koramm set the chart onto the counter to his right and moved to where Deliah sat on the raised platform. “I’m going to start with the usual things, check your breathing, blood pressure, reflexes, but if you’re alright with it, I’d like to draw a little blood for testing. It’s been over a year since your last blood test, and I’d like to check that there’s nothing starting to build up that hasn’t shown its face yet.”
Deliah nodded, shivering slightly as Koramm slipped the metal end of the stethoscope against the skin of her chest. “That’s fine, dear. I’m glad you’re so interested in the health of this old woman.”
Koramm chuckled. “Okay, Mrs. Johnson, just give me a deep breath in…”
#The Sunguard#Koramm Stonehoof#Sitewrite#Site write#My Writing#tauren#alternate universe#au#modern#real world#doctor#doctor's office#clinic
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Sitewrite 6: Farstriders and Fightin’ Words
“Look at him. All high and mighty.”
“Yeah. Full of himself, ain’t he?”
Shahin’s ears perked and he slowly shifted his attention from the training dummy at his front to the voices at his right. Just a few feet away were two men, Farstriders from their look of their kit, having a very loud conversation that was very clearly directed his way. Wonderful. Another pair of smug Farstriders that needed to be put in their place. He’d gotten accustomed to them over the last year or so as he worked his way up the ranks, the way they glowered at him and his colleagues as they drilled in the square. Officers on both sides insisted that everyone do their best to avoid any kind of trouble, but that didn’t stop each side from taking shots at each other whenever opportunity presented itself. These two seemed to believe that the lone Knight in the drill yard was such a case.
Proving them wrong was going to be fun.
First would normally be the issue of taking the upcoming educational session somewhere out of sight of any kind of crowd or otherwise prying eyes. This morning, though, there were no crowds, no great numbers of people to stand around and gawk at the lesson learned. Second, there was the fact that Shahin was very technically outnumbered two-to-one but that wasn’t much of a concern. Most of the Farstriders he’d ever come across were very adept with a bow, but none had been able to match a Blood Knight’s ferocity up close- so far, at any rate. Finally, there was the matter of dealing with whatever reprimand would surely follow this but he decided he’d deal with that later. Life of late had been frustrating and now he had a perfect outlet.
“Is there something I can help you with, gentlemen?” he asked as he stood and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Or are would you prefer to stand there and gossip like ladies at court?”
The two Farstriders exchanged looks. Shahin strode casually toward them, thumbs tucked into the belt loops of his trousers, as they silently debated what to do. He stopped just a few stops short and politely waited for the both of them to come to a decision. Interorganizational politics would demand that all three parties come to their senses and just let things go, but pride would likely be the determining factor. Two clear challenges had been issued, one by each side, and would hopefully be answered. A cool autumn breeze rolled through the courtyard, the rustling of leaves disturbing the otherwise heavy silence. After what seemed an eternity, both Farstriders came to a conclusion.
In a blur of motion, both of them surged forward to Shahin who was admittedly caught a little off-guard by the sudden violence of action. Instinct swung his right foot out behind the left and he rooted himself firmly in place. The first Farstrider was coming from the left, fast and reckless. Clearly they were counting on numbers to win the day, sloppy as they were. Shahin intercepted the punch practically flailed at him, his hands closing firmly around the attacker’s wrist and forearm. Too late, his attacker realized his error. Shahin pivoted, swinging his hip squarely into the Farstrider’s gut. The Farstrider gasped as the air was driven out of him and Shahin felt his body go slack for a moment. Using his opponent’s momentum against him, Shahin shifted his trailing hand back and clenched right under the Farstrider’s arm pit and he yanked firmly with both hands, launching the fool ass over tea kettle clear across the courtyard.
The second, clearly offended by the display, bellowed in fury and followed up his friend’s attack from the right. Typical. Reckless. Stupid. Shahin shifted again, ducked under the punch, and stepped forward with his right foot. In one motion, he hooked his foot behind his opponent’s trailing ankle and hooked upward with his right arm, catching him around the neck and upper torso as he swept his right foot back- effectively clotheslining the second Farstrider. Gasping and wheezing as the air was driven from his body, the second man was barely able to react as Shahin dropped down to one knee and brought his right fist back as he prepared to rain blows down on his stunned foe.
Unfortunately, he never had the chance.
“That is enough!” barked a voice across the training yard. Three heads swiveled toward the source.
There, a few steps away, stood a woman with short brown hair and the second most piercing eyes that Shahin had ever seen. She was draped in green and carried a bow strapped across her back and even from here Shahin could see the cross-shaped scar marring the right side of her face.
“Ranger-Captain!” one of the men exclaimed. “When did- how long-”
“Long enough to see you two dimwits get your pants beaten off.” she snapped, cutting him off. She gestured up with her right hand and Shahin relinquished his hold on his opponent as both men rose to their feet. With a sharp swing of her arm, she gestured for the both of them to vacate the area. They exchanged looks again and, cowed, sulked away- but not before shooting dirty looks at Shahin over their shoulders as they retreated.
The Ranger Captain pinched the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes tightly as the other two departed. Shahin, for his part, pushed himself back to his feet and straightened his shirt and his trousers.
“So-” he started.
“Don’t worry about it. Those two have been due for an attitude adjustment for quite some time now. In a way, I should be grateful to you.”
She asked for his name. He provided it- one that he hadn’t used in a long, long time now. He asked for hers.
“Nuellen,” she replied as she turned to leave. “Ranger-Captain Nuellen Swiftstrike.” She waved over her shoulder. “See you around, Blood Knight.”
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Entry 04: Lovely Day
What a day. What a lovely, lovely day. Shahin had awoken late in the morning today to the pleasant news that his knights and the rest of the Sunspear detachment were making excellent progress in Silverbrook. Soon, they would have the location of the Crimson Steel hideout and be able to end the threat once and for all. With much of the bandits’ force crippled in the last skirmish, there was little threat that Silverbrook itself would come under direct attack. Knight-Sergeant Heartwood assured Shahin in his correspondence that there was no need for him to make a trip this day; all was well in-hand.
With little else to do, and Kylora and Alna’cenia out with Mellarue, he had made himself a nice little nest of blankets on the couch and gotten the fireplace going. With a book in one hand, the comforting weight of Nuellen’s head in his lap as she sprawled and entertained herself with her own book, and a thistle cigarette dangling loosely from his lips, Shahin was certain there was no more a pleasant place in the world to be. Occasionally, he would look away from his book to catch a glance from Nuellen- it had been like this all day. A smile here, a wink there, a brush of a hand and a gentle touch.
Nuellen seemed just as content as he was to keep their arrangement as such for the time being. Between the girls, their assignments, and the constant looming threat the Legion posed, they hadn’t had much time for the small joys of just enjoying each other’s company. Whatever the next day or next week or next month would hold, at the very least today had been a pleasant day.
Pleasant. Yes. That was a good word.
( @nuellen for mention )
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Site Write 17: Oathsworn
17th: Share the last thing your character got genuinely excited about.
After taking the Oath and being made to understand it's importance (as if she needed to be imparted the importance of keeping one's word), Ileosa was dismissed to go about what businesses she would require. Today had been altogether fabulous, the blood knight felt she was lighter than she had been in quite some time Oathsworn! An Emberward!
She was giddy with the excitement of the days events. Finally she was truly apart of something greater than herself again. She would prove to the Sunguard she was a good, loyal soldier. Already her acts of strength had won her that ridiculous contest with Zaren. 'The Boulder'. This was the title and nickname she'd managed to earn pushing an oversized rock across the grass farther than anyone else. It was honestly quite absurd but even so gave Ileosa a sense of pride. She made a small name for herself, and it wasn't easy to get a nickname.
For today at least there were no dark clouds hanging over her head nor as far as she could tell, threatening to dispel her good mood. Emberward Ileosa Sunstorm felt as if she could conquer a kingdom. She'd shove open the doors to the tavern with a huge smile on her face, still in the ceremonial uniform of her sub-unit.
"A round on me!" she exclaimed, and so she spent the rest of her day in revelry and celebration. The start of something grand and new.
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