It had been a loud and exciting night in Goldshire, especially in the tavern. Many travelers had stopped by on their way towards the capital. Some only stayed long enough to get a bite to eat, others stayed until the skies outside darkened. Somewhere in that time, one of the customers produced a mandolin and began singing to the crowd. He wasn’t horrible on the ears and the customers seemed okay with it, so the owner shrugged his shoulders and let it go.

Throughout the afternoon and into the evening, one young lady kept dancing through the crowd as she carried trays of drinks or food to the various customers. She favored everyone with a smile and never ignored a customer. She was a good hire, the owner thought to himself as he poured...

Red dust coated the hems of her robes as the fiery redhead made her way up the steps of the estate. Her coin pouch minorly lighter, a sickly sweet grin draped across her face. Large marble doors swinging wide as the Sparrow returned to the nest victorious. 

The southern wing of the estate was teeming with life these days, new recruits, those employed under her watchful eye, those in training, bustling about the halls. One thing was for sure, Moira needed more within her ranks to care for those at her beck and call; after all, mistreatment of those freed by her ranks was no better than living in the pure hell of enslavement.

Moira's feet glided through the halls toward her quarters, the dust leaving a trail behind her. She always disliked...

It had been a few months since the last time Fhaliona had visited the island of Tol Barad, but not much had changed. The docks were bustling; the villagers going about their business of buying, selling, and trading; visitors making their way from the boats to the inn and tavern to sample the renowned food and drink. She passed several with a slight nod, ignoring the concerned stares and whispers at her corrupted appearance and focusing as much attention as she could at blocking the demonic eye on her forehead from sharing its gaze to its master.

Fhal's gold-shod hooves clacked on the stone pathway leading up to the house where her goddaughter and three fathers lived. She gently placed a small iron-bound trunk on the doorstep and tucked a...

That first curse

Salted with power

And kissed with rage

Eagerly chanted verse

That first soul

Slipped through stars

Dark and unwilling

Glowing like coal

That first servant

Voice so defiant

Eyes sharp in need

Hunger forcing her pliant.

Tinnaire brushed aside the last of the forest detritus and smiled where she squatted. The bones were clean; she’d been waiting to collect them, once the forest was done with the rest. A lynx skull, a femur, a few lumbar vertebrae, and a run of coccygeal bones. Not precisely white, but cleaner than when she’d marked them on her little treasure map.

Eversong, for all it had been through the last few decades, was still an ecology she tried not to disturb until nature had gotten its due. Death had sown here. But not always in the Scar variety.

She tugged at the fingers of her riding glove and folded it over her wrist, intent on a tactile prayer of thanks. It would make fine art and she felt her heart swell with gusts of...

The steady tink-tink-tink of the glass under her fingernail was just sharp enough to keep her thoughts from falling too far down the proverbial rabbit-hole. Her eyes wandered over the morning Bazaar markets and she leaned on the rough counter of her stall.

Concoctions and elixirs. Soaps and perfume. Oils, creams, and potions.  Tiny vials and large bottles nested in crates stuffed with straw. Others sat on the fold up displays. Khaeris had always loved the little glass containers her wares came in. She was thankful for her friendship with Pyraelia for many reasons, but connections to talented glassworks were valuable in her alchemical trade.

Especially to some of the more illicit wares she kept under the counter and out of...

He wasn’t really known as whimsical. He knew he wasn’t seen as a sourpus, but he tended to stay in the background, rather than the type of person found dancing up on the bar. Ren wasn’t a stick in the mud, he hoped!, but neither was he usually the life of the party.

The new Menagerie vendor had been nice, and he’d bought a window-kit for a plant--starlily. He’d eyed over the menu and the elixirs she’d offered. Various playful potions that changed the way you perceived flavors made him smile.

Still. Everyone standing around and twiddling their thumbs was definitely not his pace either. The Menagerie had been quiet, but there were still the vendors, himself, and Junarra there. Why not have a little fun and get to know...

“No, no, no.” Tinnaire grimaced again, looking over her handiwork. This was too embarrassing.

She was talented. She knew what she was doing. She knew how anatomy worked. She knew countless ways of fixing this disaster. Or would have, but the client just kept insisting. It MIGHT have been cute. Maybe. Given a little more time and a little less indelicacy in subject. She could have done something with it that wouldn’t be … this.

“Oh yes, my dear! YES.” The goblin beamed and his teeth glinted gold.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Definitely am, toots!”

“It looks atrocious!”

“I think you mean it looks PERFECT.”

“... I’m not signing my name.”

“Fine by me. I paid ya. Our deal is done. I’ll take all...

5 - Sacrifice
(Set many years before the Fall of Quel'thalas.)

-

She should be proud for her daughter.

House Palecrest was one of the most influential houses in the region. She was going to be a Lady who held domain over a large swath of land. A good reputation. Excellent social status.

I am yours and you are mine, together until the end of days.

She curls her fingers together in her seat so hard that her skin begins to turn a faint shade of white. Leonian reaches over, taking her hand so she can’t make a scene. He leans into her ear, his words barely audible, smiling all the while.

“Do not ruin this wedding, Ilaena.”

She smiles. Gently pats her eyes with her handkerchief.

This should be happy. She should be...

4 - Broken
( Set 5 years before the Fall of Quel’thalas. )

Mentions: Domestic Abuse.

–

The words that accompanied the sharp slap hurt more than the physical pain.

“You’re a frosty cunt.”

No, Ilaena decided – the sting to her pride hurt worst of all. Even as she fell to the floor, her hand cradling the red and swelling mark of a palm against her jaw. Even as Leonian reared back his foot, striking her in the ribs, the pride of it hurt most keenly.

They had been at a ball some hours before – her favorite place to be, most days. Surrounded by other beautiful people, able to leave her drunkard of a husband to his gambling and drinking friends, Ilaena could escape into the merriment. Flirt just enough with men...

“Please stop crying, Lairen…”

The tears are waterworks today. The five year old is absolutely inconsolable; Eleeria picks her up, letting the tears stream down her shirt as she holds her daughter close.

“But I wanna color!”

“Honey, you can’t color on those. I need those for work.”

“NO!”

The small girl kicks and punches at her mother’s shoulder. Eleeria lets out a soft noise as she holds Lairen away from her body. Strong enough to hold the girl aloft while she screams and kicks, she seems particularly unable to handle the magnitude of tantrum today.The floor is wet at this point; Eleeria’s not sure how one small elf can produce so many tears.

“I WANNA!”

“Well, Lairen, you can’t. That’s just...

4 - Breakthrough

(Set in July 2020)

-

Would she do anything for Weleria?

Of course she would. What a silly question that would be.

Weleria wanted to come back to life. What a reasonable thing to want.

The interplay of draenic soul magic and death magic could do that. Would she be breaking any laws? No. Moral laws perhaps. But when had Eleeria Silverwing ever cared about morality?

As her joint magics worked together, carefully healing her wife’s soul and ever so gently transferring it from her old and broken body into a beautiful, new one, Eleeria couldn’t help but marvel at the power of it all.

Lyctora had told her that the First was generally a master of resurrection. Others may have more spiritual skills; the...

3 - Masks

(Set in the present time.)

-

She felt the heavy helm settle over her head, the uncomfortable stillness as it blocked out her measly sight from her injured eyes following swiftly after. Eleeria took a deep breath, trying not to let her anxiety get the better of her. She was not in the dark, alone; she was standing in the Cove, Ismene standing a few feet away from her. The older woman’s arms were crossed, her expression severe – or they had been, before she placed the suffocating contraption of leather and magic over Eleeria’s head and taken a step back.

Eleeria didn’t quite understand why Ismene had shown up in the Cove. She rarely understood what the older woman did on a good day – like a feral cat,...

2 - Invasion
(Set in February 2020)

-

I can hear them. The ghosts, I mean.

Anara visited Blackheart, and being able to hear Alexander’s absolutely atrocious turns of phrase was….new. Unsettling. I don’t know if I like this – now it’s as if, having heard it once, I hear it all the time. Whenever I use my magic to see, it’s an assault of sound and noise. Screams, pleads, simple conversations…I can’t keep it all straight in my head.

Three years ago I thought I would go insane from paranoia. Now I know I’ll go insane surrounded by the noises of the dead.

Lyctora says it’s something I can learn to ignore. When? How? I’m so tired of turning my head to search for something that’s not there. I already know ...

Day 1 - First
( Set in February 2020 )

“You will lead us.”

Her hand is slapped from the air with force.

“Ridiculous. I’m not leading shit.” Eleeria’s voice echoes through the empty space, the sudden sharpness of her tone reverberating with a harsh ring. The person standing in front of her, all gaunt shadows and strange angles beneath her cowl, smiles and says nothing in turn. Nothing needs to be said, really.

So it was ordained, so it shall be.

“I’m not. I know you made some sort of deal with my wife – but my wife isn’t me. You can’t just – hold me accountable for it.”

“Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if we took away the blessing we bestowed upon you.”

At last, the litany of complaints and...

Daily Writing Challenge
Day 5
Words: Rain/Sacrifice

Originally posted by thenighteternal

Waking up yet again in a spot that wasn’t her bed, Lian grabbed onto the neck of her mandolin and set it next to the couch in which she fell asleep on.  Her hair was a mess and a good portion of it was out of the braid so it had been plastered onto her face.  

Fixing her hair as much as she could in a couple moments of time, Lian continued to sit there and do what she could to collect herself and work out the kink in her neck.  Then, upon waking up a bit more her ears twitched as she heard the plink against the window pane.  Pushing herself to her feet and grabbing the mandolin again she stared out of the rain before her mind focused on the...

Daily Writing Challenge 
 Day 4
 Words:  Breakthrough/Broken

 ...try, try again.  The words continually repeated in the young vulpera’s mind as she would take a leaf or petal from a plant that she had growing next to her and every time she tried each different experiment , the concoction would backfire and blow up in her face, leaving ash and soot on it.  

She then flops down dejectedly and pouting out her lips, Hana would sit there for some time just peering across the table full of scrolls, beakers and other assorted items.  “This is never going to work.  I may as well just give up.”  Upon hearing that her lab partner just snorted and rolled her eyes, speaking up so Hana will hear,  “You’re the best one of...

No. That one was broken. … She remembered when she’d thrown it at a wall. She grimaced. Her hand rummaged through the draw and searched again. Ah! Oh. No. That one was broken, too. THAT had been water damage. Whoops. She kept searching. She knew there were at least two working models already on reserve for her; where had Pollux put them?

Khaeris was getting better at using the communicators. She’d had one for years now. Goblin made. Pollux made, times three (oops!). Other Pollux made, frequency unknown (at least in this time dimension). Each sturdier than the last. Her search paused a moment and a tiny frown pulled at her lips. She’d TRIED to break the last one by throwing it, and hadn’t been able. Pollux knew her too well.

“Look! Even your precious Light is not immune to corruption. The Black Empire will rise again, and all of Azeroth will bend the knee to Madness!”

The searing pain left Fhaliona's mind as the world began to reappear through the veil of darkness that had overtaken her vision. She shook her head with a growl, flinging sweat from her brow. N'Zoth's visions had become more vivid and frequent ever since the eyeball attached to her forehead had opened. She'd been able to keep all but the worst visions at bay with her innate holy power until then, but now was a different story. The battle against the forces of insanity and chaos invading the world had taken it's toll. Void energy pulsed through her golden tattoos, and she now covered the...

Too much wine, too fast, with too little to eat. Tinnaire gave a slightly undignified chortle, braced against the wall and feeling a bit stuck. She was trying to slide her heels off, and had managed one, but the other had fought and pitched her here, against the wall outside her Silvermoon apartment.

She hadn’t danced much at all, but her feet still protested the new shoes she’d bought. Ahhh~ Finally. Off. Her perfectly manicured toes flexed and curled a couple of times. It took another few tries to hook both shoes on her fingertips, but she managed eventually.

She slumped against the bricks and looked up at the dark sky over the city. Gods above and below, the world was beautiful. Her smile likely looked how she felt: drunk, bemused,...

Daily Writing Challenge 
Day 3 
Words:  Autumn/Mask 

Originally posted by longnightsandcigarettes

Evie emerged from the cabin she had rented for the week to gaze out at all of the reds, oranges and yellows that are almost as if they were painted across the forest.  Autumn was most definitely her favorite time of year, and ever since she had been banished from Quel’thalas, she tried to make it a habit of going somewhere  with the fall colors in full view.  While it wasn’t quite the same as it once was, she still could remember times past.  

Jaunting back inside to grab a sweater, she rubbed her arms at the chilly weather outside but enjoyed it all the same.   Taking her daily trip to walk through the forests of ...

Daily Writing Challenge 
Day 2 
Words:  Zandalar/Boralus/Invasion

Originally posted by noscean-scholar

Bella’s eyes rested on the gravestone for hours on end. She was desperately trying to wrap her head around the fact that he was gone, and she couldn’t help but piece together how much the two men who had been the closest  men she had ever had in her life had departed this world in exactly the same way.  

After having run out of tears to cry she couldn’t help but yelp out in pain and anger.  She felt her blood start to boil almost literally and with clenched fists she walked off towards a clearing.  Her teeth clenched as she was casting the spell to depart to the shore.   

The relief showed on her face as she knew...

Daily Writing Challenge 
Words: First(s) / Explosion 
Date: 9/20

Originally posted by twillight

As Laenne paced back and forth across her apartment, she couldn’t help but work herself into more of a panic about what she was about to do.  Singing wasn’t anything she ever though she would do in front of anyone besides mury, so the more time passed, she got more and more nervous about it.  So when Inerris showed up at her door, she was feeling like her mind was about to leave her with all the fear that she had built up inside of herself.

Noticing this, her partner looked at her rather confused, not having told him that she would just be dancing, he wasn’t sure why she was so nervous.  “I don’t get it, why are you so...

Daily Writing Challenge 2020, Day 2

Pyraelia had not minded. Khaeris had not asked.

But there she was, moving through a meadow with her friend walking beside her. It felt good to move. It lightened her heavy heart and she welcomed the distraction her invasion of Pyraelia’s space had brought her.

Pollux had been deployed this morning, and straight away after seeing him off, she’d shot over to Pyraelia’s place.

Sheep, cats, grass, and sunshine. Just what she needed. There was a breeze that tugged on leaves that were starting to crisp and she felt that damp chill that clung to things in autumn. Pyraelia had tucked phlox into both their hair. Sturdy boots made a satisfying thunk on the earth with every step. They were...

Daily Writing Challenge 2020, Day 1

It was, now that she was in the thick of it, perhaps not the best day to be tidying up in this particular manner.  Letters and small trinkets lay scattered around the tiny fold down table in her vardo. All pulled one-by-one out of the small wooden chest she’d kept. They were sentimental things, and usually she was very unattached to such things. But these were some that still tugged at her heartstrings. Familiar handwriting recalled familiar voices.

She’d only meant to come back to the wagon for an hour or so. Pollux was being called back out soon. Tomorrow, in fact. But he was gone into a briefing--she assumed--and he wouldn’t be back until later in the evening. So the minutes marched by...