Tag: Dizarak Sanar x 11

For once he had been the first to wake, eyes dancing around the room before the sun had even painted the sky in early morning hues. His gaze traveled across the sleeping faces of the pair curled up tightly together beside him, tempted to merely roll over and rejoin them in blissful slumber until the monk pried himself from the pile as he did every morning. A quick furrow of the brow molded his face until his mind latched onto an idea.

Carefully he slipped from the covers, the chilled air instantly attacking his naked form. No doubt the frigid air outside would be as much of a shock when the trio decided to grace the world with their presence. Replacing the covers and tucking them up against the redheads back, the void giant turned on his...

Hallways once filled with life and laughter, with a pact made between siblings. A home built by loving parents and dutiful children. A place for growth and learning, torn asunder by the petty wiles of the elite. Whispers of memories past flowed from the walls as if spoken by the stones themselves, somewhere down abandoned corridors a screams of the dead rang out. Mental static mixed with deft footfalls on broken ground.

"Enough, Zaravala." 

His voice echoed through her head. The terrified look on his void touched face as the light slipped from his mates eyes. The smell of blood. She scrunched her nose at an unseen smell. Visiting only to retrieve her glaives and mask, already proved to be a poor choice.

The crimson haired nightmare...

Pale twilight shone between the leafy trees leading up to the dark and still house. It's eerily soothing glow caressing the upturned face of the void male perched on his small private porch. Mismatched eyes closed to the heavens as he remain cross legged on the stonework just beyond his door hands tucked into his lap as he simply sat and listened. 

The evening at the tavern had been entirely too stressful, from one moment to the next there were entirely too many people and too much happening. A majority of the trouble revolving once again around Melisande's knight in prickly armor. A scowl crossed the Ren'dorei's face as his meditation landed on the snide face of the male, he shook it from his mind with a mild shift of his head. 

Peace....

The bed pressed up against the wall opposite a pair of windows, cracked slightly to allow the cool air in, atop it were numerous pillows and a thick dark comforter. A large plush chair and guitar paired neatly in the opposing corner. The desk once more covered in papers stood resolute next to a small bookcase, a pair of tavern tabards folded neatly atop it, the top one much smaller than the one beneath it. A pile of clothing of differing styles lay at the foot of the matress, who occupants lay dozing peacefully.

Slowly, pale blue orbs opened and blinked bleerily around the room, his gaze lingering on the beds other inhabitant, lying almost face down beside him. Her deep crimson hair cascaded over her shoulders, her arms tucked beneath...

The pounding of fists against ground was far less satisfying than it would be against his skin, the rain pouring down, splashing against the dirt and what bare flesh peeked around leather upon her frame. Crimson locks hung heavily toward the soil as she fruitlessly beat the wet surface, her masked face a barrier to the world. Hands a knees, a position ill suited for the demon hunter, whose usually strict and proud stance now crumpled beneath her in the mess of rainwashed terrain.

Face the skies, worthless monster. Her memories echoed through her head and she obeyed, turning the open maw of her mask to the heavens, a place she knew she would never grace.

"What the fuck do you want from me!?" her voice echoed within her cover but rang...

The bay was calm and quiet, the warm glow from the windows of the humble tavern acting as a comforting beacon to its patrons in the dimming evening light. Soft leather boots left subtle marks upon the dirt as a females form approached the establishment. 

Weeks have flown by and despite her best efforts the Ren'dorei's face lingered in her mind, after centuries of nothing, suddenly he'd thrown himself back into her life and it almost cost him dearly. She clenched a gloved fist and paused just outside the door. What would she do if he indeed was here? Even more so what would she do if he was not... with a shake of crimson locks she pointed her masked face to the building once more before making her entrance. Her eye's scanned the room...

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...

A cool breeze drifted across the clearing, tents and campfires littering the land as the Alliance prepared for the siege.

Dizarak leaned against the base of a long since fallen tree, eyes darting to and from various faces  his gaze lingering on the reason he found himself within the ranks of the Alliance once more. The middle aged human male sat among a few others  boisterous drunken cheers detailing how he would do this  that and the other thing to his enemies. Displaying his Broken Isle sized ego that frankly the Ren'dorei couldnt even fathom how it fit in his small frame. 

Silently the hired guard prayed his charge would run screaming from the fight in the morning or perhaps be entirely too trashed to merely figure out how...

Surprising silence drifted across landscape, broken only by Zaravala's gear shifting as she padded towards the water edge around the outer wall of of the crumbling city. Easing her way down the bank, the woman paused a moment to remove the gloves from her hands, slipping them through her belt to hold them against her. Lowering herself to the stony damp ground, glancing around the clearing and sure she was alone she slipped the mask off and rested it on her knee.

Zaravala reached forward and stuck her hands in the cool water bringing her damp palms to pat her warm cheeks, careful to avoid her own reflection. 

The Demon Hunter slipped a hand into her pouch and pulled another envelope from its depths, still sealed, her brother's scrawling...

The large chiseled bartender stood propped against the old wood of the counter top, a damp rag clutched in his hand and his arms folded across his chest, his pale steely blue eyes watching the others as they went about serving the few patrons the inn was entertaining for the night. Slipping his tongue from his mouth he pulled the worn silver ring on his lip inward between his teeth, a motion he rarely even thought about after all this time. 

His long deep green and black hair was, per the usual, pulled back into a high styled pony-tail, the long void tendril sprouting from his head enveloped in the very same way, his two shorter tendrils rested with the similarly long hairs at the back of his neck. Two long wavy strands sat at the...