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ronaestrider · 2 months

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Another Dawn

The last rays of sunlight danced upon the spires of Valdrakken as drakes of various scales soared through the twilight skies. The celebration of life seemed to be endless, joy and mirth found in all corners of the ancient city. Laughter was shared between Horde and Alliance alike as new friendships were forged in the aftermath of another victory. The boughs of Amirdrassil bloomed with life and hope, a clear indication of the achievements of Azeroth’s protectors.

The dawn of a new chapter.

Again.

Standing atop the steps that lead up to the Seat of the Aspects was Ruthar Ronaestrider, Ranger Captain of the Farstriders, Reservist-Commander of the inactive Phoenix Guard, a Blood Elf who has sworn his life to the protection of his kingdom. He exhaled slowly as he looked out into the merriment below him, the gentle breeze pushing the feathers of his gold and red uniform. He watched as a kaldorei spoke with an orc near the central fountain, sharing a moment together in this time of unity. The scene shifted before him as the flagons of ale morphed into daggers, the clinking goblets becoming a clash of armament. The sparks of their weaponry flashed against the inky black sky as a snarl escaped the kaldorei’s lips with a flash of fangs.

”You seem troubled.”

Ruthar’s temporary reverie was halted by a familiar voice, the blackness returning to the purple twilight. He blinked away the images as the orc and night elf continued to share their drink at the fountain. Ruthar looked far into the distance, his scarred eyes searching for what lies beyond the horizon, for what comes next.

”With every victory there is darkness. Unknown.” He squeezeed his gloved hand around Ana’dal, his trusted phoenix-emblazoned bow, to ground himself for the moment. He closed his eyes and shook his head in an effort to displace the vision completely. “I can’t help but feel that this is all so…temporary.”

Ruthar looked down to see the exposed bones of his companion’s feet sticking out from beneath his cerulean robes. After a moment, the gravelly voice of a forsaken priest sliced through the silence. “Perhaps it is so,” the forsaken offered, his shoulders slumped as he, too, looked out toward the horizon. “How else are we supposed to see it when we have eyes that have seen so much?”

Tahlus Tourvald, an ambassador for the forsaken, was not someone Ruthar had expected to become close with, though he was sure that the forsaken was equally surprised by their partnership. For many years, Tahlus served as a forsaken ambassador in many of the Horde capital cities, a role that he found both difficult and rewarding. Spreading the offerings of the forsaken and convincing others that they were an asset was challenging, sometimes seemingly impossible, work. The impossibility only mounted further in the aftermath of Sylvanas’s actions of the Fourth War and subsequent betrayal of her people. Tahlus found himself in Silvermoon City trying to distance himself from the Banshee Queen and continue his efforts showing what he and his comrades could offer to anyone who would listen.

Ruthar was one who did listen. He found himself sympathetic Tahlus and the struggles of the undead. Though the forsaken were most directly affected by Sylvanas’s actions, her loyalists were not just within her own people. For his entire life, Ruthar idolized Sylvanas Windrunner. When he began his training as a Farstrider himself, Ruthar served beneath her leadership as Ranger General of Silvermoon. He was there when Silvermoon fell to Arthas and the Scourge, and he felt the deep loss when she was bested defending her home and her people. When it was discovered that Sylvanas survived the conflict as a banshee with free will, he, unlike so many, celebrated the victory and was thankful that her great legacy could continue. For years, Ruthar pushed for the unification of Silvermoon and Undercity, leaning upon the deep history that Sylvanas and Silvermoon shared, an aspect of sin’dorei history that too many were keen to forget. It made the Fourth War an unbearable conflict for the Ranger Captain as he found himself caught between service to his kin and dedication to the Windrunner legacy.

The Horde is nothing! You are all nothing!

Those words haunted both of them, the betrayal slicing deep. In the end, service to their kin, as ever, was the answer. Though both Ruthar and Tahlus had vastly different backgrounds, they found themselves united in cause - to help other members of the Horde who had been loyal find their new place in society after the Fourth War. While other heroes ventured into the realms of death in the Shadowlands, Ruthar and Tahlus stayed behind to further their mission. They worked with displaced forsaken in both Orgrimmar and Silvermoon after the loss of the Undercity to find their way to make amends, either by assisting in clean-up missions or other acts of service. Eventually, they would find themselves on different paths - Tahlus assisting the new Desolate Council with forsaken affairs and Ruthar with the Farstriders dealing with a renewed Scourge threat near Tranquillien. They both felt a great weight lifted from their shoulders when word came to them of Sylvanas’s fate in the Maw and her manipulation by the jailer, but the sting of betrayal would not be so easily forgotten.

The three years after the work in the Shadowlands was concluded were a time of relative peace for both Ruthar and Tahlus, but they were certainly not a time of inactivity. Their missions continued in full-force with Tahlus assisting the forsaken solidify their new future with the newly established Desolate Council and Ruthar working closely with the Farstriders to train a new generation of rangers. They both attended the celebrations of the marriage of Regent Lord Theron and First Arcanist Thalyssra, one of the most celebrated occasions of Silvermoon in recent times. It was a great reminder of what the world was like beyond conflict.

Peace never lasts, Ruthar had reminded himself and his trainees, and it wasn’t long before he and many of his Farstriders were called to action. Expeditions to the Dragon Isles were being planned to uncover secrets of the ancestral dragon homelands, and the Reliquary in Silvermoon was planning on joining forces with the Explorer’s League to create the Dragonscale Expedition. Ruthar arranged for many of his rangers to accompany the new project, though he himself had planned to remain in Silvermoon. It was Tahlus, of all people, who convinced the Ranger Captain to take the journey. The forsaken had decided to travel with a group of his colleagues who had taken a keen interest in the new discoveries that lay hidden on the ancient shores, and dangling the promise of research and cartography in front of Ruthar was enough to get him back into the action.

Naturally, the Expedition turned out to be far more than either of them bargained for. They found themselves back into the thick of the action with the primalist and incarnate threat, working alongside drakes and dragons of all scales to combat dangerous forces. The typical expectation, as Ruthar would put it. They had come out victorious, however, which is why they stood shoulder to shoulder on the steps that overlooked the courtyard in central Valdrakken.

The orc bellowed a haughty laugh and clinked his mug of ale against the kaldorei’s, the foam spilling over their hands as they celebrated with one another. Ruthar managed a small smile as he looked upon the pair. “These eyes have seen many things, indeed, Ambassador Tourvald,” Ruthar finally replied. “Though I’m not sure they expected to see this after…everything.”

Tahlus shrugged, his soft yellow eyes glowing from beneath his blue cowl. “What we ourselves deem impossible seems to become more commonplace with each passing year.”

Ruthar considered that for a long moment, his thoughts swirling around his mind. He recalled his capture and torture in Tanaan Jungle, the Phoenix Guard’s campaign against the Legion, his melted goggles outside of Hearthglen. A lot of that was impossible and yet here he stood. Naturally, his thoughts turned to close friends that were lost along the way, of the difficulties that were faced to overcome the challenging odds.

”The cost, though - it is difficult to see whether the cost is worth it.” He gestured out toward the courtyard beneath the Seat of the Aspects. “I am inclined to say yes when you look upon these faces, but…” He sighed as he looked down at his bow and his gloved hand. “There should be so many more enjoying this evening.”

Tahlus pulled back his sleeves to reveal his boney bandaged-wrapped hands and lifted them up. They glowed with the gentle powers of the Light as he washed Ruthar with a soothing prayer. “We would have done the same as they - given everything we could to ensure a better future for our kin.” He pushed just a touch to finish the warmth of the spell. “Dark Lady watch over you.”

Ruthar closed his eyes as the spell’s energies faded. He considered the meaning of that phrase and about how it has changed with Sylvanas’s duties in the Maw. “Sunwell guide,” he offered to Tahlus as he turned to depart down the stairs. “I’ll join you in a moment at the Roasted Ram.”

Tahlus chuckled, a deep guttural sound from his dry throat. “Even your thoughts won’t keep you from a glass of Eversong wine.”

Ruthar smirked at that, watching the forsaken slowly depart. He turned again to look upon the courtyard, affixing Ana’dal to his back and picking up his spiked helmet from the stone next to him. He paused as he heard the sound of quickly moving feet headed in his direction. Looking up, he saw a young Farstrider moving toward him. He raised a brow as the ranger ran up to him, a piece of crude parchment in his grasp. The Farstrider offered a quick salute that Ruthar returned while maintaining his curious expression.

”A message for you, sir,” he began, somewhat uncomfortably. Ruthar immediately felt as if something was amiss and his visage certainly showed it. “Was left at the encampment.” He snatched the note from the Farstrider’s hands and read it quickly.

This letter is to inform you that there have been sightings of one who you may know of, although their identity has yet to be confirmed. The rumors are that they’re female with red hair and reportedly wear a rose by their right ear and wears a silver necklace with a rune upon it. Word from the field is that she’s quite a good shot despite having extensive scarring around her eyes.

Ruthar looked up from the hastily scrawled note to the delivering ranger, his frustration on full display. “This was just left at the camp. No name, no information, no…nothing?”

The ranger looked concerned at the direct questioning. “No, sir - this is all that I have…”

“And no one saw this note being dropped off?” Ruthar inquired hotly.

“Not…not that I am aware,” he replied. Ruthar lofted an eyebrow. “...sir,” the ranger hastily added.

Ruthar sighed heavily, crumpling the note somewhat in a tightened grip. What was I just saying about peace? He turned from the Farstrider and looked down into the courtyard where Tahlus was walking toward the Roasted Ram. I wonder if he could trace some sort of magical aura or something, he coonsidered silently, his mind slipping away in thought once more.

After a long moment, the Ranger Captian recalled that the Farstrider was still standing there expectantly. He spun around. “Return to the encampment, see if there are further clues you can unearth where this letter was left. I don’t want to see another parchment dropped off without someone noticing.”

The Farstrider nodded. “Understood, sir.”

“Dismissed, Farstrider. Establish a minor watch with the unit so that we have keen eyes out.” He offered a somewhat lazy salute to the young ranger. “Then go enjoy some celebration.”

“Thank you, sir. It will be done. For Quel’Thalas.” The ranger returned Ruthar’s salute with a crisp offering of his own before hastily departing to tend to his duties. Ruthar watched him go before turning to look upon the square once again. He lifted the note once more, re-reading the description.

“It can’t be her,” he whispered to himself, thinking of who might fit that description. “It’s been sometime with no word. Why now?” His eyes moved to the soft glow emanating from the entryway to the Roasted Ram. He folded the letter and slipped it within his hauberk.

“Let us see what Ambassador Tourvald thinks of all this.”

#ruthar #ooc #roleplay #warcraft #world of warcraft #wow

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phantomstatistician · 5 months

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Saturday Status Update

The wait time for a request is: 51 working days

Upcoming charts (if the sample size is large enough):

Pacific Rim (2013) - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Lab Rats - Bree, Chase

Lab Rats Elite Force - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Victorious - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Pokemon - 10 most popular Pokemon

The Amazing Digital Circus - Pomni

Ninjago - 10 most popular platonic ships (AO3)

Danganronpa - AO3 big trigger warnings, Tanaka Gundham

Halloween Horror Nights - 10 most popular characters (AO3)

Invincible - 10 most popular characters (AO3)

Blue Lock - 10 most popular characters (AO3), Isagi Yoichi

Heaven Official's Blessing - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Legend of Zelda - Ganon, Ganondorf

Miraculous Ladybug - 10 most popular OT3s (AO3)

Final Fantasy XIII - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Star Trek - 10 most popular series within Star Trek, Captain Archer, Captain Pike

Detroit: Become Human - Leo Manfred (all fics and English-only fics)

Broadchurch - Alec Hardy

Maria-sama ga Miteru - 10 most popular characters (AO3)

Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey

One Piece - Crocodile

Warcraft - Sylvanas

Addams Family - 10 most popular tags in the Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair relationship tag (AO3)

Darna - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

That '90s Show - 10 most popular ships (AO3), 10 most popular characters (AO3)

Batman - Nightwing/Dick Grayson

Yellowjacket - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Grace & Frankie - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Futurama - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Andor - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Star Wars - Cassian Andor

Lesbian Character (tag) - 10 most popular ships (AO3), 10 most popular fandoms (AO3)

Character X Reader - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Link Click - 10 most popular tags (AO3)

Hamilton - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Once Upon a Time - 10 most popular ships (AO3), 10 most popular tags (AO3)

Inglorious Basterds - 10 most popular ships (AO3)

Nevertheless - 10 most popular ships (AO3), 10 most popular characters (AO3)

Homestuck - 10 most popular ships (4/13/16 to present) (AO3), 10 most popular tags (4/13/16 to present) (AO3)

Have a more elaborate request? Or want to jump the queue? Or you want to support me as a content creator? Buy me a Kofi!

#saturday status update

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swampgallows · 1 year

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i neglected to take screenshots a few years ago when my april fools day joke for the garrosh discord was “garrosh 2.0″ (sylvanas-themed) but this year i did: YAMYELL became CHILLYDOG, a thrall server! bonus channels included “THE ELEMENTS” where we praised thrall’s benevolence (talked about the weather) and “Mak’gora”, a read-only channel chronicling Thrall’s two-time victory against the server’s former favorite warchief

#yamyell discord

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tornsurvivors · 9 months

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"That's enough, Greymane."

The silence that followed was so deafening and Jaina did NOT flinch. Nor did she bat an eye as she watched Genn's face go through all different kinds of emotion within ten seconds. Shock, then disgust... anger and betrayal. Rage. Ah yes, good old Rage. An emotion Jaina is all too familiar with, unfortunately.

But that's what she is trying to change, precisely.

Rage has done no good for any of them. For both factions. Nor has it done any good for Azeroth in whole. She learned that the hard way.

And maybe it's because Jaina was tired of standing there at every meeting -- just to hear Genn eventually place the blame for EVERY disaster that happened on Sylvanas. She was just... exhausted.

Lifting her chin, she stared back at Genn defiantly. Her voice was cool, and biting all at once as she began to speak.

"I do not blame you for being angry over the loss of your son. You have every right to be angry over losing Liam... but you are losing sight of what is important here. What about your daughter, Tess? Is she no longer that important to you? Have you really allowed your rage to consume you this much to forget about her? If you choose to continue traveling down this warpath of vengeance, there would be a possibility that you lose Tess too... to someone who is just as angry as you are, Genn."

Right then, Jaina heaved a weary sigh.

"Sylvanas is not at fault for everything that's happened up to this point. While you blame her for every atrocious crime... you forget that you are no better than her, King of Gilneas. You have murdered your share of people just as well as everyone else in this war room has. You forget you are not the only one who suffers losses. I lost an entire port town of people I loved and cared for as if they were my own family. I lost my father and older brother to the Horde. Anduin lost his father to the Legion. I could name every single loss that every person in this room had and those on the Horde side had, but that would take all day. We all have taken somebody's son or daughter away from them. Do yourself a favor and get off the Tidesdamned high horse for once and let that sink in. Do you think Sylvanas had a choice when Arthas tore her soul out? When her last bastion of privacy, the mind, was violated by a monster no better than her?"

She felt a flash of rage and disgust all just by thinking about that last thing... about the horrible things Arthas had done to Sylvanas. Not only angry at Arthas for making the choices that led him there, but also angry at herself for not trying harder to stop him at Stratholme. If she had succeeded, all those poor souls that died by his cruel hand could be still here.

"You can make the choice of moving past your anger and hatred, to work towards a better solution. You do not have to speak to her or be around her. But you cannot keep blaming Sylvanas, not when she has redeemed herself and not when she proved to us that she wants to work towards the common cause we have. It's time to let go of the past, Genn. Stop letting your grudges and anger fester within you. Be grateful you still have your daughter, and that you're still breathing. Sylvanas has done questionable things, yes... but so have we, all for an empty victory. All for another unnecessary war to destroy all that remains. It doesn't have to be that way... it's what I've been fighting for. A peace between two factions, because there are greater forces of evil that wants to wipe ALL of us out, regardless of our petty bullshit. It's time to end the cycle of senseless hatred and violence against each other, and you could be the part of that cause."

It felt as if a whole weight had been lifted off her chest, and she could breathe again. Especially as she said nothing more and walked out, left the others to ponder upon their actions and choices.

#just a thought i've had on my mind for a while...#what jaina could've said to genn.#because come on genn... blaming sylvanas for everything is getting so fucking old.#and that's her future wife dammit.#long post /#sort of.#𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 ][ memoirs of a survivor #𝖩𝖠𝖨𝖭𝖠 𝖬𝖴𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 » sometimes there’s no way to save everyone

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mikaila-orchard · 11 months

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I think Jaina's first orgasm was with Sylvanas, because Arthas was a self-entitled prick who used her for sex and moved on, and Kalecgos was a self-entitled prick who used her for dumping his emotional baggage on and moved on, whereas Sylvanas has a fucking mission when she takes someone to bed.

Makes sense. Every climax she gives the touched starved Jaina is another victory for the Horde.

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girlmachinezeph · 3 months

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After seeing people go through the Gilneas content

#world of warcraft #calia menethil #the forsaken #undead #wow #victory for sylvanas #sylvanas loyalist

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lily-orchard · 1 year

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What's the WoW fandom's funniest delusion?

Dom Tyrande

There's a cinematic where Tyrande confronts Sylvanas that concludes with Tyrande straddling her and trying to strangle her. The fandom ran with this idea that Tyrande is some kind of uber-dom on that image alone

The problem is not 5 seconds later, Sylvanas pries Tyrande's hands off her neck while taunting her for being denied victory in one of her most badass moments she's ever had on screen.

Like "You call the Moon Mommy and you're going to top Lady Moon? I don't think so."

I will never get tired of seeing Tyrande suffer. Any Priest character really.

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dandelionandkrindle · 1 year

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WORLD OF WARCRAFT • CHARACTERS (8/?) Lor’themar Theron (requested by @victory-for-sylvanas)

All we can do is walk the road we are given with such dignity as we can muster, each to our own glory or demise, and pray that there yet remains something of our own hearts when all is said and done.

#lor'themar #lor'themar theron #world of warcraft #warcraft #wowedit #gamingedit #wowcharacters #post legion he's in a total of two (2) cutscenes and has zero lines. his job is literally just to stand around looking pretty

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joywindsong · 9 months

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The Seductive Bandit

Pt. 1

The moon reflected off the Great Sea. A hooded high elf stalked through the streets of Gilneas. Hungry. Thirsty. Desperate for anything that could provide relief to her.

A few months prior, the gates of Silvermoon were attacked by the Lich King and his forces. The high elves stood brave and strong. Rangers stood behind their leader in Sylvanas Windrunner who promised victory. All fronts watched the undead lay waste to their home and slaughter their kin. Many faced the horrors and accepted their destiny to defend Silvermoom until their last breath. One ranger could not accept that and ran.

Alyarus of house Sarron deserted the battle. Using stealth tactics she would retreat through Eversong Woods, through the Kingdoms of Lordaeron, and through Silverpine Forest, witnessing the destruction of the Scourge across the Northern Eastern Kingdoms. Alyarus would not stop until she found herself within the walls of Gilneas.

The isolated city promised her safety from the undead, but not from humanity. A homogenous kingdom of humans would not take kindly to a high elf within their borders. At least not in broad daylight.

Alyarus was only approaching 200 years of age. Older than any human she'd come across, but only reaching physical adulthood as a high elf. Her body was petite and her facial features were soft. By the beauty standards of Silvermoon, she was an average girl. Her messy ginger hair that she would rather tie back into a ponytail than properly tame was one example of her lacking the typical grace of a Silvermoon woman. However, to Gilnean men who participate in the underground shadows of the city, she was the most beautiful thing they had ever seen.

Especially because of the isolation of the city, Alyarus was sought after for her "exotic" features. There was a twinge of shame to what she had to do to survive. Though, she had already abandoned her home and left them to die. Even if she could never have done anything to stop it. At that point, what shame was there to swiping a few loaves of bread or giving favors to depraved men who would offer her necessities in exchange?

Rumors had been swirling about an elf within the city. Taking resources and seducing upstanding citizens. Finding even a crumb of food was becoming more difficult and her regular target locations were becoming more and more secure. Would she have to double down on providing services to survive? It was hard to say if it was more shameful to steal or resort to honest but degrading work.

Alyarus stepped through the dark alleys of the harbor town concealing herself in a black hooded cloak. The feeling in her feet numbing. Cold water seeping into her worn out ranger boots. A buttoned down shirt she stole from the closet of a client draped over her like a smock, covering the torn up dress she had recovered from the trash.

Failing to scavenge anything of value during the daylight, the starving elf had few options left. The alley would meet a cellar door that would lead Alyarus into a secret pub for degenerates and white collar criminals alike.

The room was filled with smoke. A crowd of people at a back table betting on dice. A few drunks sitting at the bar. A handful of odd characters scattered around the relatively small room. Alyarus would sit at the bar, removing her hood, and allowing her reputation to attract her marks.

"Hey doll... What bringsh a broad like you into a rundown dump like thish?"

A tall heavy set man took the seat next to her, leaning in a bit too close. His breath told that he'd been drinking.

"Ain't seen an elf girl around here since I been comin' here. I been around the world enough to know how sweet ye' are though."

The man appeared to be a deck hand. His sailor's shirt open to show the tattoos and body hair that went from his chest down his arms and to his hands. The smile on his face was missing teeth and the hair on his head was a collection of wispy blonde fuzz. Cupping his hand on Alyarus' far thigh with his arm going behind her back, he leaned in close to whisper.

"Bet you're reeeal tight..."

Alyarus was completely unphased by the situation. She simply smiled back at the drunken man.

"You're welcome to find out... for a price of course."

A deep belly laugh echoed through the cellar.

"Shorry. Ain't interested in whores.. at least not the payment."

His hand moved to between her thighs to pull them apart. The other hand went up her dress and between her legs.

"BANG!"

The entire room turned towards the pair. A gunshot followed by a thud of the large men hitting the ground. Blood was pouring from his sternum as Alyarus stood with a smoking revolver in hand.

There were no laws in this place, but that didn't mean actions had no consequences. Alyarus stood frozen while shady men crowded around the body.

"Ay! Dom ain't breathing!"

It came to Alyarus what she had just done. Seeing the life gone from the deck hand's face as he lie in his pooling blood. The men around the corpse slowly turning to Alyarus. Dehydrated and not eating much in the last few days, she was too weak to run. Whatever was about to happen she was accepting. This was the price for leaving her home to burn to the ground. She had brought this upon herself.

"Stand down men!"

A booming voice came from behind Alyarus. She turned to see a dwarf with a sailor's hat. Long stringy black hair and a bushy black beard fell over the collar of his jacket. His face was scarred and leathery with big brown eyes that betrayed his otherwise gruff appearance.

"We may be pirates, but ye' all know there are some lines we don't cross. I hold ya Whale Sharks to a higher standard than what ol' Dom was trying to pull on this lass. I ain't avengin' a man who asked for death."

The dwarf reached out to lower the revolver as Alyarus sat stunned with her heart racing.

"I do apologize lass for what my crewmate made ye do here tonight. I be makin sure the rest of'em do ye no harm."

The pirates side eye Alyarus as they head back to their dice game. A pair of barkeeps remove the body with a questionable familiarity.

"There be one problem lass... I now be short a deckhand. Without him, I can't meet with my business out in Kul'Tiras. If that falls through, I'll be out a lot of gold. Something a pirate can't accept."

The dwarf climbs up to take the seat of the fallen deckhand. Looking Alyarus in her face as she's still processing what just happened.

"I ain't gonna pay ya til I know you can work. But I can give ya a bit of food to eat, a bit of water to drink, and a place to sleep away from the boys. Dom always been the bastard of the crew, but just a precaution. Ensuring no harm. But, if ye ain't fit to compensate my loss in gold and ye ain't prepared to make up the muscle I just lost, there will have to be a price to be paid. Judging by your rags, I ain't expecting the first optipn."

Alyarus looked at the soft eyes of the rugged dwarf and felt her stomach ache from hunger. Piracy may not be the most respected profession but it was more noble than stealing and more dignified than prostitution.

"Y-yes. I'll work for you."

Showing a few gold teeth and a surprisingly white smile through his bushy beard, the dwarf put out his hand. His palm was like sandpaper against Alyarus' soft skin as they shook.

"The name's Mad Whale Shark, lass! The crew be the Whale Shark pirates! Based on the posters round town, ye be the Seductive Bandit I assume?"

"Alyarus." She corrects him.

"If that be yer preference. We set sail at dawn. Be at the harbor and we'll get you in working order."

Whale Shark hops down off the barstool and heads out the door. For a moment he stops and turns.

"Just to be clear. Ya lucky I know yer reputation. Had I not, there'd be no offer on the table to save yer skin. But a high elf makin' it this long in the streets of Gilneas, AND made a name for herself in the meantime. Ye clearly ain't just a streetwalker."

Whale Shark continues out the door.

Alyarus feels like she's in a dream. Before she can even process the events that transpired, her whole life just changed again.

After months of pain and grief, it seems like something may have changed her life for the better.

#tw sa implied #tw gun mention #world of warcraft #silvermoon #high elves #fan fiction #gilneas #wow rp #moongaurd #alyarus sarron

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