This week’s RP Spotlight comes from Vainaa of Cenarion.
Click here to read the full story on the forums!
This week’s RP Spotlight comes from Vainaa of Cenarion.
Click here to read the full story on the forums!
This week’s RP Spotlight comes from Cenarion Circle’s Dyone.
Click here to read the full story on the forums.
I’d like to start showcasing some of the stories that players come up with. If you’d like to be featured, DM me on Twitter or comment and point me towards your tale!
To start with, I ran across one from a guild mate of mine, Cri from Warcraftier on Cenarion Circle. I realize it was posted some time ago, but I’d love to know what happened. Maybe I’ll poke them and see if they can let us know.
Want to read the full story? Click Here!
“You cannot help those that don’t wish to be helped, you know. People cannot see their flaws if they have no desire to see them in the first place,” he told her sternly.
The night elf meant well, but she was still conflicted.
“But it goes against my nature not to try and help.”
Elcinryge pulled off his mask and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Your nature is killing you here, but there are other places that could benefit from your attention. They will have to put the pieces back on their own in their own time. But you and I? We can still fight against the Legion. If we do that, in our own way, we’ll still be protecting them. It is the bigger threat than the one they pose to themselves.”
The Worgen looked at the weapons before her. A pair of daggers. A pair of fist weapons shaped like giant bear paws. A staff carved into the shape of an owl with its wings spread wide. And a large scythe that glowed like the moon. With a pained look, she reached out a clawed hand and lightly touched the staff. Before she could dwell too much on the pulsing energy flowing from nature that hummed within the wood, she quickly wrapped up the weapons save the scythe into a blanket and tied it shut. It would be a long journey and she couldn’t afford to lose them.
Grabbing the scythe, she turned back to the Night elf. Elcinryge flashed her a grim smile before pulling his hood back down. Baring her teeth in a cruel smirk she nodded.
“You’re right. It’s time to focus on the Broken Shore. What happens to Suramar City and it’s Citizens after the fall of the Nighthold will have to be up to the Nightfallen and the residents of Suramar. We can’t do it for them. To the next adventure.”
(7.2 tomorrow! Who’s ready?!)
Originally posted 12/24/2014, I figured it was time for a repost. Maybe this year I’ll write a Winter Veil aftermath story. Enjoy! -Silent
“‘Twas the night before Winter Veil and all through the hall,
Not a guild mate was stirring, well no, not quite all.
The shoes were all stowed carefully out of reach of cat,
In hopes that the fund for guild repairs would stay intact.
Bear had hidden away for a slumber so deep,
While the Druid lady had pints with Shait in the keep…”
“Silent that isn’t how that is supposed to go,” the elf laughed at the worgen.
Silent peered at her friend as Shait struggled to get her laughter under control. “Well, it’s close and fits, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose,” she replied, thoughtfully. “No Winter Veil cheer this year?”
The worgen took another sip of her ale and shook her head. “I find myself longing for a day to myself, but I cannot get away. All these new friends we’ve made, they won’t leave the garrison! They always want me to send them out for things. They constantly want me to tell them what to do. I can’t even hide in the outhouse to get away from them.”
“Mm. Can’t argue with that. Irayna has been portaling all over the place for those Goblins at Smokeywood pastures. Something about pets or presents.”
“Mord swears the folks in his place want to leave, or maybe that is just because that gnome is friends with goblins.”
“Possibly,” the night elf replied. “Qale stopped by once. It’s a miracle we got him to stop punting everyone so they could have a Winter Veil.”
The two spent the next few moments envisioning the giant Pandaren Monk running around in a drunken haze punting goblins and gnomes alike. Silent could almost hear him declare “it’s good” as she watched an imaginary goblin sail over the imaginary wall in her mind.
“It really is strange,” Shait mused, “with all of these people to watch over, direct, and shelter. But I’m honored and humbled they stay.”
“We like it here,” Mordlet piped up, making Silent jump. That blasted gnome had a habit of popping up out of nowhere. No wonder Qale liked to punt him.
“Anyone know if we should be getting our new found friends and followers gifts?” He continued, pulling a mug towards him.
Shait and Silent shared a look of alarm as both of them realized they hadn’t even considered that possibility.
“I’ll send over some armaments we’ve been stockpiling for awhile,” another voice said. Dereus had found them and slid into a chair to join them. “Who doesn’t enjoy a new weapon?”
The four giggled and passed around another flagon of ale.
“I hope everyone likes what I got them,” he said as they all took another sip of ale.
“Repair money?” Mord asked. Dereus chuckled as Silent patted the gnome fondly.
“It’s the eve of Winter Veil. The garrisons are bustling with festivities and this, is perfect.”
“How so?” Shait asked.
“This right here. Everyone sharing in a brief moment of peace,” the paladin continued. “I wouldn’t trade this.”
“Nor I,” Mord said.
Shait shook her head. “Wouldn’t trade this for anything.”
“To friends and family,” Silent toasted, raising her mug.
“Friends and family,” they agreed.
“You going to rewrite that poem,” Shait asked.
The worgen shook her head. “Nope. Going to enjoy each and every moment with you guys.”
Happy Winter Veil to all and to all a good night.
“Azeroth?!” the worgen blurted out incredulously. “You’re sending me to Azeroth? Why? When there is so much left on these Isles we haven’t looked in to already. Why Azeroth?”
“Call it a hunch” Shait replied, but Silent heard the uncertainty in her voice.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“There’s been rumors of Horde movement,” Mordrius said softly.
“They’ve been moving here or haven’t you noticed?” she snapped back.
“Think of it as checking our rear as we advance. There are few in our ranks that know the Basin, Gulch, and Valley like you. Poke around and find out if they are rebuilding forces back home or if they’re truly invested against the Legion. Things just aren’t quite adding up out in the field.”
Silent drummed her claws against the wooden table as she mulled over her orders.
It was true, she did spend plenty of time engaged in battle with the Horde, either as a healer tending her allies or by unleashing the Moonkin within upon them. Even bear enjoyed joining the fray. The hooves of the stag and paws of the cheetah had covered those grounds many times now. Perhaps the eyes of the Worgen would see something they missed in the heat of battle.
Those amber eyes caught the quick look the two elves gave each other as she had thought it over.
“And?” she pressed. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
Shait let out a heavy sigh and sat back down.
“You’ve been having fits again,” she said slowly. “You’ve been talking in your sleep again. About Gilneas.”
“Have you been dreaming?” Mordrius asked.
The Worgen blinked. She was stunned but shook her head.
“No. None that I recall. And I remember nothing of Gilneas. Nothing before the battle with the Forsaken, but even then Cat and Bear were in control and I had been with the curse for awhile then.”
“Something is trying to be remembered,” Shait said. “And I think bear is trying to protect you from it. She reduced one of the mess hall tables to kindling when she up ended it. I haven’t seen her, or any of your forms for that matter, solidly in control for years. I didn’t see any trace of you in her eyes.”
The Worgen’s eyes widened in fear. It had taken so many years for them all to find a balance and harmony to work together. Bear had been the most willing to pull them all together. What could have happened to make her take over?
“When was this?”
“Three nights ago. The sleep talking has been increasing in volume the last month. You had been screaming before bear broke through, ” Mordrius explained.
“I’m your commanding officer,” Shait said, “but I’m your friend as well. As a friend, I think you need to look in to this.”
“You know I don’t want to hurt anyone here, right?”
“I do and I don’t think you would if it came to it,” she replied.
“But as my Commander, you can’t let me hurt anyone,” Silent softly finished for her. Mordrius sadly lowered his gaze to the table.
“Something is fighting to break free, Silent. It must have a reason. Just in case we’re wrong, I want your claws pointed at a worthy target.”
“The Horde,” Silent snorted.
“Go to Gilneas,” Shait encouraged. “Commune with Bear. Seek out the Bear Spirit in Moonglade if Bear is being unhelpful. And keep me updated with your findings. You can do this There will still be plenty of demons waiting for you when you come home.”
“We’re all stories in the end, just make it a good one, eh?” -Eleventh Doctor
Phoenix Patrols–A short story set in the World of Warcraft.
“Demonic activity in the Broken Isles is becoming more frequent.” Shait’s voice was tired but still held an edge of command. “The Legion isn’t stopping and we’re still unclear if this is just a fraction of their full power or not. Until we know, we can’t risk losing anyone.”
It was true. After the death of their King, Varian Wrynn, no one was certain if Gul’dan and The Burning Legion were just toying with them or slowly breaking them.
The threat of the demons overrunning the Broken Isles and in turn, the rest of Azeroth was their main worry, but the druids in the guild had other worries they had been working to combat.
The Nightmare that had once been contained within the Emerald Dream had grown tremendously. Whether from the influence of the demons or unknown reasons, they were fighting a war within the dream to keep it from spilling over into the world. The Druids had taken a mighty blow with the loss of many of their most prominent leaders to the corruption. While the Dragons that had once guarded the dream had been corrupted long ago and had always been beyond saving, losing the great bear Ursoc and the Ancient Guardian Cenarius, Lord of the Forest and the patron god of all druids. Malfurian Stormrage had been working closely with the druids in the Dreamgrove and through his help, Shait, Mordrius and Silentsong had been able to take the others in Phoenix from the Ashes into the Nightmare to launch their own counter attacks.
Much to Shait and Silent’s dismay, Ursoc was beyond saving, but there was still hope for Cenarius. There was a sliver of hope they could still reach his mind and pull him from the corruption, but it was difficult.
They were stretched thin, but they were resilient. They hadn’t broken yet and while suffering from the same exhaustion as Shait did, they had no plans to let any of the threats before them break them.
“From here on out, all patrols on the isles will utilize the buddy system. We’re stronger together. I want us watching each other’s backs out there. Last thing we need is lose contact with you due to an ambush. Besides, two sets of eyes are better than one.”
“What about in the city in Suramar?” Dereus asked, shoving a mop of brown hair out of his eyes.
“That place is a nest of vipers,” Silent growled through her canines. “Between demons, Nightborne, Withered, and rampaging devilsaurs, that place is hardly a walk in the park, even with the disguises their Nightfallen resistance provides us.”
Those around the table nodded in agreement. They still had a few members recovering from fel fire burns and deep spell blade wounds from their last trip in to the city.
“And we’re no closer to discovering the full intentions of the city or the Nightfallen,” Mordrius confessed, feathers falling from his head as he shook it sadly. “Perhaps teams of at least three? More is good, but not so many to call attention to our movements there.”
A murmur of agreement went up around the table.
“Very well. Teams of three within that hell hole,” Shait said. Her glowing eyes fell to the map in front of her. “Dereus, you and Dante head to Azuna. Check in with the blue dragons first. Try to get an update from Stellagosa about the activity of the naga and withered in the northern region. Help where you can. Be sure to inquire about her grandfather’s health and if there is anything we can do. After you’re done in the north, swing down to check on our undead elf friends.
“Ariebell and Cissarah will take Stormheim. Genetics and Dungot will go to High Mountain. Mordrius and I will take double duty. We’ll check in with the Druids in Val’sharah before heading to Suramar. Dismissed.”
Silent’s ears flicked at the noise of chairs scraping as the majority of the guild departed.
“Have I done something wrong?” she asked, a note of frustration creeping in to her tone.
“No. It’s just…” The two elves looked at each other uncertainly before Shait spoke up. “We need you to go back to Azeroth.”