I am a Shen-zin Su Pandaren. That means I was born on the back of a giant sea turtle. I grew up hearing legends that everyone... in my small town were connected in some way. Not spiritually necessarily more like: We know little things about their lives from seeing them and chatting, if they have done work in town, if they like us or dislike us? So I felt at home in that community. Then: I was homeless for a while at least twice. To survive I had to learn how to be charming at least temporarily, and I was forced to leave Shen-zin Su. I asked him: "Why did my people force me to leave my only home?"

I had never spoken to my ancient elders before. Only heard stories. What would he say? Would he be angry or accepting? Would he even......

Dear Diary:

My mind is a mess. I think elves and humans are spreading rumors about me. Or anyone really, however... I feel especially like the humans won't trust me because they think my people betrayed them when we left the Alliance. As far as I know? The Alliance wasn't helping us and we taught them their magics of the Arcane, Fire and Ice that they now love so much. Elves because... my family has been cast down from the popularity of nobility and disgraced publicly by The Convocation of Silvermoon. I cannot get these crazy, paranoid thoughts out of my head. Or thoughts that my dates are mocking me, calling me a woman of no morals and that they all... despise me. Do I despise myself too? Sadly to say, I do.

It all started when I...

Quiet filled the workshop. Tools were put away, scraps of wood set aside, as Amorthon inspected the piece in front of him critically. With a heavy sigh he ran his hand across the headboard, the horse carved there, and then along the leg of the crib he'd been inspecting, checking for imperfections before grabbing padding to wrap around the uncovered leg.  The carriage would be by later in the day to pick up the piece, and within a week or so it would arrive in Darkwood Village. What happened after that, well that was up to his brother and, what was her name? Lorilin? 

He grit his teeth as he tightened the rope around the leg and the padding before straightening up and brushing his hands together. He gave the headboard one more...

What do I do when I am lonely? I walk the streets of Stormwind and go to bars looking for dates. Taverns have varieties of peoples and all of them have their own stories. I listen to their stories and try to help them too. It's a mutually beneficial relationship for all involved. And: When you're in troubles sometimes former dates seem to... appear and help you? It's odd and strange, serendipitous, yet elves shall come to your aids when you're in trouble. So shall any races of the Horde you dated. My favorite men and women to date are goblins. They have connections, wild ideas and personalities that keep me interested. I like tauren for their respectfulness in interpersonal relationships. I've even had a hands off date with a Forsaken...

I intend to get my revenge on the nobility of Silvermoon for casting me out. How shall I? It's simple: Dismantle their political and monetary systems with chaos and destabilization. Undercut their prices in the Auction Houses. Discredit their theories of royal superiority and sin'dorei greatness... do I love the sin'dorei? Of course I do. Yet I cannot... allow my brothers and sisters to run rampant with corruption and decadence. So I fight with activism works to discredit the sick and twisted thought that some Houses are better than others. Speaking of blood elven nobility's homes: Technically I belong to one of minor note.

Technically I am a "Lady of Silvermoon." Yet I hate it. I hate the trappings of nobility... and at the same...

Technically blood elves descended from night elves that were... high born, haughty, and used the Arcane. That's about all I know of my ancient past. My mother never concentrates on our past much, neither did school. It was all about the present and surviving now, rebuilding our cities and settlements after being exiled from first night elven lands and then exiled in spirit by other Horde members for daring to partake in fel magics. Which begins my point: Blood elven aging is slower. We spend years in youth than other peoples. I am only 22 right now--Technically an adult by my society's standards.

Yet my mother? She is much older and wiser and more politically powerful than I am. Because she, aided by her elven lifespan, has had...

I mostly employ succubi in my demonic tasks. I don't know much about them despite having worked with them for years... personally. In fact I suppose they like it that way. My work with demonesses of such types has impacted my relationships with my family heavily. Some of them, except my two sisters, believe I'll never change and I am just as provocative and manipulative as say... Selrida my right hand woman. But even Selrida has honor, compassion and loyalty. Even demonesses feel sadness, anger, hatred, love and happiness. Selrida warned me not to consort with the Staff of the Eredar Politician I now wield. I didn't listen to her advice. I believe the staff may be cursed and begged Selrida for help... and to my surprise she actually...

The fire in the hearth crackled as orange flames danced around the thick logs on the grate. Light and shadows danced around the stones surrounding it, as if the fire were putting on a play for anyone nearby. But the only person to notice was the old figure sitting beside the hearth. 

He sat in a low chair, looking at the fire beside him and feeling its heat wash over his hands and face. His once colorful hair had long since shifted to silver-gray and was bound into one braid now that hung over his right shoulder. Around his eyes and mouth were many deep-set wrinkles, whose meanings seemed to change with the mood. He looked away from the fire towards the young children that were running and playing through the house, and they were...

Marachius stopped at the door leading to the trainers’ office and took a deep breath. Steadying his nerves, the young man let out the deep breath and then knocked on the door. It was a moment before there was a response from within.

“Enter.”

Marachius opened the door and stepped in. Then he stopped short. Inside the room were several people wearing different tabards and armor. At the main desk sat Lord Shadowbreaker, flanked on either side by Arthur the Faithful and Katherine the Pure. Around the sides of the room sat several other men and women, some were the trainers that Marachius had been working with, others he had only seen in passing.

“We’ve had a complaint lodged about you, Ainsley,” Katherine the Pure said...

As a physician, he was not unused to asking questions that resulted in varying degrees of truthfulness. Patients were quick to lie – or at least, stretch the truth – about their sexual history, alcohol intake, severity of their medical issues… The list was honestly quite long, and their motives typically baffling (Fear of judgment? Lecture averse? Ignorance?), but his agreeable, even-tempered personality and a well-developed gut instinct for when someone was fudging the truth allowed him to navigate the mazes of white lies without much trouble – or headache.

With that in mind, one would expect that the surprisingly forthcoming mage would’ve been a welcome change of pace. More often than not, a query posed to Audemus was...

Warlocks have little formal rules governing how they use their powers. They are more secretive about their demons and fel magics because of the suspicions and scorn heaped upon them by their peers. The Horde was more accepting of my kind and their demons yet I am moving to the Alliance and may need a cover job now that my Mistress Selerra shall not be there to protect me? Without Miss Sorrowsong's guidance, and in new lands, I must conceal my practices from the humans, dwarves, Draenei and all of the Alliance. Summoning demons and demonesses gives me such a rush... knowing that I command a being that could swap its soul into a new body from the Twisting Nether, or control her enemies' minds with Charm spells or turn invisible or fling...

She was genuinely at a loss.

On one hand, Audemus had inside information that would cut days off her recon of the place so she could get the job done quicker. On the other, he was coming with her. While they’d danced around the implications of what she would be doing while out in public, she knew he knew what was going to happen.

Erhur Flamerest was going to die for his crimes.

Shade was given this task because she could get it done and give him what he deserved at the same time. She had long perfected the poisons she carried with her for such tasks – traceless killers that induced natural ailments but tormented the body before death finally claimed them.

And child slavery was on the list of things Shade could not tolerate...

(Collaborative writing with Niviene)

It took several minutes before silence finally reigned in the Larethian household. Having finished their nightly story, Banagan and Korissa were picked up and carried to their respective beds. Soon after, Braghaman came down the stairs and walked back into the living room where Niviene was still sitting on the couch. Placing his hands on the back of the couch, the paladin leaned forward and kissed the priestess lightly on the cheek.

“The kids have been tucked into bed,” Braghaman said triumphantly with a grin.

She smiled up at him, her fingers unconsciously going to the braid that hung down at the side of his head, “You always were better at that than me. They’re glad you’re home. I’m...

I died a little death as I rounded the corner - cigarette dancing in my fingers, singing them with searing little kisses after its fall from on high. 

Aelberyn’s voice, and...Iloam. And atop the steps like a vision - the Ranger Lord, himself. All the other faces blurred, and I couldn’t breathe. I came for cupcakes, and...hadn’t I known this was inevitable? I got the letter to Elaeryn, but perhaps I’d become complacent in the absence of a response. And I’ve had Iloam and Aelberyn’s letters gathering dust for ages, now...but the words spilled from me like blood from a wound, all the same.

There are days I feel powerful...and days I remember that I am also very tender in places. With the three of them gathered before me -...

Azzai's story (up to now) can be found HERE. I will be (attempting) to cross-post future stories.

All writings for Amorthon (up until the present moment) can be found HERE - I'll be working to cross-post from here on out.

Her hand disappeared under the bed skirt, swatting as she let her fingers move over the various wrapped boxes underneath. The redhead turned her head, resting her cheek on the cool wooden floor as she tried to catch a glimpse under the skirt herself. “Ah, fuck'all…come'on.” There was a crinkle of paper heard, and the woman’s eyes lit up as she leaned back onto the wood floor.

The red wrapped box was pulled from it’s hiding place, set up to rest on the edge of the bed. In the same movement, the woman used the bed to lean herself up; sitting on the edge casually. Her expression was one of relief, plucking a dust bunny from one of the carefully pleated corners. It wasn’t like she’d thought he’d care if she actually got...

I went home and buried myself in the mundane routine of the Blood Knights. Paperwork, training, repeat. Letting people fold me into a routine, dictate my schedule. I have never been particularly keen on living by someone else’s rules -- but in the end I find it easiest to forget my emotions when I don’t have time to contemplate them. So I bury myself. Let them replace Eleeria with some well-mannered soldier, as I have done in the past so well and so fluidly; it eases the ache, the paranoia. My food journal starts to fill again: from nothing to a few things, and finally to real meals. I am not ready to talk about my feelings, so I cook them instead: stew, pasta, meats and pies all come tumbling out of my kitchen and in turn, into my...

She winced - the impact of the explosion inside the barrier would certainly leave bruises on her hands. Not that much thorium nitrate then. She pulled her heavily gloved hands from the arcane dome on her workstation and carefully withdrew petite fingers from the singed leather. Red and purple splotches were already blooming over her knuckles and the insides of her hands.

She flexed her fingers slowly before pulling a pen from her hair and scribbling the results in her ledger. Way too much nitrate. Shade went to the cupboard and pulled out a small blue jar, the pungent contents of which she massaged into her skin, staving off the worst of the bruising. It was time for a break. She squinted at the open window, gauging the light, and...

((****WARNING: Violence, torture, blood and gore. Sensitive themes as well!****))

Originally posted by trappixi

The slow patter of rain sounded hard against the brittle remains of the awnings, riding on every gust of wind.

Drip-drip, drip-drip.

Sheltered just barely within the skeletal remains of the ramshackle cottage, a lone silhouette moved in a slow, steady pace, loose-limbed and glinting metal each time he stepped through the lone light-source.

It wasn’t a typical place for him, though it had its own appeal. Situated far from Silvermoon, it lay off the few beaten paths that remained where the weathermancers’ magic no longer reached, in the charred heart of the Blackened Wood; a damp, dark space that only just supported the...

I was exiled from Silvermoon City for creating new sentient Infernals. They were little more than lumbering brutes of the Legion before but I made them stronger. And for that? My peers thank me and my family by having us entirely banished never to return on pains of trials and possible executions or jailing... so I fled to King Anduin Wrynn's side. Where I heard my peoples once resided anyway? I am a sin'dorei now and forever yet: What about the powers of the Void Elves? Alleria might scare me a little but she could have a point. Is it worth it to swear allegiances to her and King Wrynn and sample the powers of Shadows?

“Hey, Marachius!”

Marc looked up from the book he was reading as he lay on his bunk. At the door to the room stood one of his fellow trainees. 

“Yeah?”

“The trainers are looking for you.”

“What for?” Marachius asked as he sat up on his bunk and put his book to the side.

“Don’t know. All they said was to find you and send you to their office.”

“Office? Not one of the classrooms or outside?”

“Nope. And given the looks on their faces, I wouldn’t keep them waiting.”

“Oh boy,” Marachius muttered to himself as he pushed up off his bed and walked out of the room.  “Thanks,” he added as he stepped past the other paladin.

Even though he had spent a substantial amount of time exiled from his home city before the fall of the Grand Magistrix, Serazyth could always recall the shouts from the market, the polite conversation in passing and calming music at the plethora of parties those involved in upper society attended. Noise had never been uncommon but the cacophony of sound outside Suramar was something he still could not entirely adjust to. It was a jarring system shock walking the streets of the bright Sin’dorei streets or, even deeper into the unknown, standing in a bustling tavern in Tol Barad.

It felt so peculiar therefore, only a few days later, to be arranging the remodeling of a house within the confines of the port town to settle into. It...

The first couple days at the Jade Temple had been difficult on Elandriah, the first night having only laid the foundation for the upcoming week of work ahead of her. 

She’d had two fits over the evening- one easily calmed, but the second likely unseen. There was no movement that accompanied the second waking. No cry out that alerted the room, no sound that fell from her lips as she silently screamed into the darkness. They’d talked about the options the day before. She’d already shown signs of sleep awareness, night terrors, conversational skills unconsciously utilized… the woman was on the edge of a dangerous territory. 

As young as she was when she started her work, it wasn’t uncommon to see those in the political...