Tag: void elf x 12

The woman sat across from the headmistress, her dark, shadow green hair shimmering strangely in the lamplight. Her face was still, like a dusky gray porcelain doll, with only the occasional blink. She listened intently, trying to determine where this line of questioning would take her, wondering if the shoe she’d been waiting to to drop was finally falling.

Niviene watched the alchemy teacher, looking for a hint of emotion but there was none, and it left the priestess more than a little unnerved, “I understand she has been spending time with you, more time than her classes require.” she paused then gave the woman a tentative smile, “Is my daughter showing an interest in potions?”

Nelandrys nodded, “Yes mistress, she is...

He could get lost out here, looking up hypnotized and seduced. Expanse and deep, the whispers were more cogent here for him. You could feel the promises coil. This was his sister's world, really, but he had followed her. He came back now and then, through the rifts and always felt better being covered. It wasn't precisely cold, but it wasn't really warm either.

The rift made his stomach turn in a way that Outlands and portals never did. It was beautiful but terrifying, too. He hadn't been born for this. He'd chosen this otherworldly place and power, for the sake of family and love.

Estira wasn't here today; wasn't seeking fellowship. He'd find her elsewhere. It was time to leave.

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...

I can hear it over the sputtering lamplight and the hiss of burning paper. Through smoke and laughter at home on the street. The sun’s long since set beyond Boralus Harbour, and not even the nightfall can touch us. But I’m hardly surprised. It’s not that kind of dark.

“Trust is your weakness. You wander an endless spiral… ”

And I’m on my own, sucking on this strange brand of cigarette, stepping out into this strange brand of society, with only two things on my mind. But even my next meal and a place to sleep are inconsequential. I’m on my own, but I’m not alone, because they’re always with me. Just like you’re always with me.

“…nothing but dust in your hands.”

You were there when we learned we could never...

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 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...