Tag: Ashraen x 4

The large Ren'dorei glided around the kitchen, daring to be as loud as he wanted within the empty house. Somehow he'd managed to convince the loves of his life to leave and spend the day together despite their refusals unless he came with. For that he was still a wee bit shocked but grateful, even more was his shock to hear himself ask...no beg, Taoln for his help in the kitchen. The pair had limited time to pull off the planned surprise and nerves threatened to slow the progress.
Pots and pans steamed, aroma's wafting from them and spilling into the living space as the pair worked harmoniously throughout the small kitchen, the last time Dizarak had allowed anyone in the kitchen while he worked his culinary magic had been with the fiery...

Khaeris lay in a bed that wasn't her own. The sheets were rich. The rug she put her feet down on each morning was thick and soft. The curtains over the window were finely made. The window itself looked over the Court of the Sun, not the Bazaar.

Pollux hadn't come home that week. Other Pollux, not her Pollux.

Gone on a business trip. Zandalar? Had he said that? He supplied the military, he'd said, but was that what this trip was?  Maybe somewhere else. She realized should probably be ashamed she hadn't listened closely, but she wasn't ashamed. Despondency came and went in waves.

Though alone every evening, Khaeris could not be disappointed in this. He was too strange. It was both too familiar and too jarring to see his shape. His...

A figure could just be made out skulking through the chaos occasionally scooping gas masks on the unfortunate souls with no hope of revival under their own will, or dragging those clinging to the last threads of life to the small encampment full of her fellow guild mates. Upon depositing 3 more masks and a severely injured Night elf to the waiting arms of medics, Zaravala stood, shifting her glaives on her back before ducking out to the battlefield once more.

She praised the God's that she had not caught sight of her brother, the thought churning her stomach.

Upon locating another injured capable of being helped she carefully began dragging it across the ground.

She tugged harder on the body when she heard his voice yelling her...

Tapping his foot on the decimated ground beneath him, the Ren'dorei shifted his grip on the dagger at his side as he stood just to the left of the opening to his charge's tent. The middle aged man, named Garrett, rustling around inside caused Dizarak's ears to flick as he gauged the human's whereabouts within.

Finally the dark haired human emerged from the canvas flaps of the tent and scowled openly at his “babysitter” his gloves clutched in his hand.

“You don't have to stay so close to me, I can take any of these savage Horde with ease!” Garrett spewed , slipping his glove onto the wrong hand and immediately ripping it back off to correct his mistake. He finished the process and unsheathed his sword, swinging it around and...