Tag: WWC x 10

Tinnaire’s eyes lit up, literally, and the felfire surged triumphantly over the beast below her. Adrenaline and magic dizzied her. Her breath caught in her throat, half in laughter and half in shock. The hem of her robes pressed against her shins, buffeted by the suddenly heated air that leapt away from the blackening bones. She heard the marrow pop and the laughter finally bubbled out. The witch in her soul soared even as the felhound staggered, dead before the demon’s flesh felt it.

The spell had been spectacular. And she turned on her heel, but her eyes rose to the skies over Suramar. A felbat fell with a satisfying thump against the stone, green embers scattering from the scorched fur. Waves green fire came out and whirled into...

It was quiet. She sat on the floor of her wagon, slumped and still. She was tired. The sobbing had stopped and she was numb. Owlishly blinking, only slowly did she come back. Shadows lay thick around her, swirling in a soft fog with her every breath. Her skirt was wet where she'd spilled the vase in her lap. She didn't  notice.

Khaeris looked around the dark interior. The soft light the arcane runes Helal had scribed for her had faded to a thin paleness over the last two years. Her curtains and shutters were closed, her plants temporarily at Pollux's apartment and the automatic watering globes he'd rigged for her previously. The wagon looked tired, too, she decided.

Even the small parcels looked quiet. But the air smelled of fresh...

Time started again as the softness of the night bloomed again and her ears rang with the after-echos of previous booms and pops. She blinked and the memory of the fountains of color and bright burned still. But it was over and it was just a memory.

Fireworks were one of her favorite things. Lunar Festival, therefor, was one of her favorite times of year. The beautiful displays ranged from big to small, from simple snaps against the stone path to the stunning flashes and shimmers that hung in the sky. There were paper lanterns enchanted to float and streamers that flutter in breezes.  Sparkles and shimmers flashed at the corners of your eyes. Flowers every direction you looked.

It wasn't easy to forget that an Old God was...

There was no where to put her key. No bowl on a stand by the door, no hooks in the wall, no arcane drop pocket. Tinnaire stood there in silence, peering at it inert in her palm. How perplexing! Moving wasn't something she had ever worried about. She'd always been taken care of and more often than not, these little things were well in hand before she'd ever walked through her own doors. Living alone for the first time in ages came with all sorts of baffling problems she'd never considered. New adventures. Her lips quirked and she curled her fingers around the key possessively before dipping it into her pocket.

The apartment was mostly empty. Her eyes swept over the blank walls and the freshly painted white walls. She couldn't decide if...

Weekly Writing Challenge - Week 9; New Year/Resolutions

1) 

2)

3)

      '.` .:`;..

   .,` ,. ; ,;`..".

     '. : .`, .

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Kharris looked at the blanks. She frowned deep enough that her dimples popped out in both cheeks. She didn't usually do resolutions and she wasn't quite  sure what had taken her to make her start a list.

Her brows pulled down tight over her eyes. She took another drink. Even the smooth bite of the alcohol didn't dislodge the frown. This felt like too much pressure. The future was too far away. Even tomorrow seemed unreasonable to speculate about.

Her ear flickered toward the whirring of something mechanical. Asarel was working on something in the back room. The Barge...

It was a time of year when there was a great whirlwind of activity. She remembered being in Ironforge for it one year; Silvermoon wasn't that festive, but it was still decorated and the air of the holiday was pervasive. Kharris smiled to herself as she placed the small package under the tree she'd put up and decorated with Castien and Ylaise.

She hadn't gone extravagant for gifts for anyone for a few years now. Books, journals, small trinkets, and favorite foods. But time spent with loved ones was lavished and she made sure she savored it. She would make it out to see Keiran, if only for a day or so.

The kitchen at Threadneedle smelled of cookies, candied nuts, breads, and cider. Asarel had consented to wearing the soft, fuzzy pajama...

No one on Azeroth was untouched by War. From the tiniest babe to the oldest crone. She was no different, even though she'd spent considerable personal effort to avoid the wars. She was no fighter in any traditional sense. She wasn't ashamed to say she'd fled the Scourge at Silvermoon. She knew how to hide. She knew how to distract. She knew how to inspire others to be protective.

The Fourth War--the Blood War--was over. That's what they said. Pollux was home more. Briefings and basic work, but home nearly every evening. Work on prosthetics.  She worked at the clinic, but babies and sinuses snuck up and started out numbering rehabilitations. Mercenaries relaxed and laughed in bars. Spies quietly pooled their information in shadows....

He was a mage. He could go wherever his skills could get him. They’d gotten him pretty high, this time. The wind was cool from the sea. His hands were on his knees and he caught his breath through his triumphant smile. He was going to be victorious in this game of Murlocs and Mages. He just knew it. They’d never find him here.

A bird looked at him. He grinned back. Then down the wall.  It was a long way down. The bird dropped off its perch and spiraled in a glide down, down, down then up and away into the sky. He nearly whooped outloud, but then caught himself. He needed a few more minutes to make sure the other kids were found first.

Renrael stood up and stretched his back. He bounced a few times, shaking out the fatigue in his...

The bite of the cider faded only slowly on Khaeris’s tongue. She’d maybe spiked it a little too much. … Maybe. Ha, oh well! No one to know but herself and Pollux. She smirked and took another full drink, holding it in her mouth and picking out flavors as she looked over the quiet Bazaar. People were at home celebrating and sharing food, occasionally people would walk past. She knew them some, Pollux’s neighbors, and they would wave and wish her a happy holiday. Contentment tried to cocoon her. She tried not to fight it.

It was a good day. It had been a small meal, just the two of them, but she was happy for that, too. Pollux had been able to be home more the last month or so. But she didn’t plan on him being there. Even...

Her head rested on Asarel's bare chest, her black hair fanning out over the pale skin. He was not sleeping, he still so rarely slept well, but he was resting. His fingers teased slowly through her hair and she was grateful. Her head chased his hand subtly. He knew what she needed, even if neither of them could articulate it.

Two weeks out, nearly, and she finally felt easy breathing. Her heart was calmer again, with no adrenaline spiking through her sleep, no half-heard voice. That part usually only lasted a few days. The nightmares had had come only one night, but were soothed by the warm embrace of her lover. The other dreams had lingered, as they did every year, but the ache was bittersweet and more welcome.

It was just that she...