A tidal wave of emerald and scarlet looms over me, gaining height with every second.
As ugly as death might seem, there is a certain morbid curiosity that steals over me - this looming presence might strike with the open hand of nature's wrath...yet the hand guiding that wrath is far larger.
It is the will of a god.
The will of a Titan.
The Moonglade is by far the most peaceful place that I've ever been. My best training sessions have been there. It's also the first place I've flown as a Stormcrow. That was an exhilarating day. I also loved seeing the green dragons that occasionally visit. The sheer tranquility of the Moonglade is almost infectious. I've never had the urge to fight or rage for long there. It's the most calming place I've ever been. I also enjoyed visiting the Timbermaw Furbolg that live nearby. Although a relatively simple people, they are very wise. I suppose that comes from their shamanistic traditions. I suppose one might think that the furbolg learned more peaceful behavior from the Kaldorei, but I think that if there was influence going on, it was the Kaldorei that learned from the Timbermaw. There has been many times that I've walked among them. I've often watched as their elders trained their childer to be shaman.
You'd been lying to her for weeks now. It was never your intention to lie, but once you'd started, you couldn't stop. You'd be embarrassed if people you smiling about it now; that silly little grin of yours that was somewhere between smirk and open-mouthed laughter. You couldn't help it, though, once the idea bounced into your head - half baked, frantic, and spur of the moment - you had to realize it. The idea also needed to be kept secret, hence the lying.
Elwynn Forest, Present Day…
“How exactly did you do that?” Lirriel asked, watching Aerella wrangle both Lirriel’s infant and Cerwis’ toddler, getting both diapers changed and clean clothes on in the time it took Lirriel to clear the table and put lunch’s remnants away.
“I had a lot of practice,” her mother blithely answered, holding up Sameth and blowing on his round belly. The little boy giggled, lunging forward to leave a slobbery kiss on Aerie’s cheek. The baby, lying on the blanket, kicked his feet while he watched with a smile.
Lirriel eyed Aerie, skeptical. “I couldn’t have been that much of a handful.”
Oddly enough, continued from All the Wrong Reasons
The beer bounced on the table, rings of ripples captured in mugs, droplets splashing, ivory foam staining hands and gloves. The heady scent filled the room like the raucous music piped up from the band and the singing and yelping from the dancers in the center of the tavern floor, all in a twine of smoke and flickering golden light. Echo tipped back her pint, watching over the rim as she took it all in.
She entered the little farmhouse, closing the door behind her. She propped the windows open, but kept the curtains down; the Valley air was warm, even at nightfall.
She lit one lamp and set tea brewing as she cleaned her armor and weapons. She took a quick bath and then dressed again in a tank top and tiny shorts, much cooler than the gear she’d been lugging around all day.
Elwynn Forest, roughly 20 years ago…
“Light help me,” Aerella muttered at the virtual caravan approaching the little farm, her mother in the lead, head held high as she examined the tiny cabin, its garden, the small barn out back and the rented out fields. The neighbor’s farm hands paused in their work to eye the wagon and pack mules coming up the short lane.
“It’s Grandma!” Lirri squealed, dashing across the yard, old Uncle Hal hobbling behind her.
Moirina Magrall swung herself off the wagon seat to hug the little girl. “Good to see you, missy. My, how you’ve grown!”
Brill, somewhere between 45 and 50 years ago…
It’s one of those days, Moirina realized as her headache intensified.
The baby was fussy. Bryce was being defiant and noisy, wanting his mother’s attention. Little Aerie followed a half-step behind Moirina, getting knocked over or tripping the woman numerous times, staring wide-eyed with a tiny lip wibble whenever Moirina scolded her. At least the child wasn’t a crier; Moirina couldn’t handle more than one.
The laundry needed done and breakfast still needed cleared away. Carson had left early for the shop; a large shipment was coming in from Stratholme. Moirina wished she could be there to help him. She reflected not for the first time that the shop was much easier than three little ones between six months and six years.
This week we look at the religion of the Tauren people, and their beliefs about the Earthmother, An'she, and Mu'sha. Ironforge's Hall of Explorer's at 7pm. Join us afterward for drinks at the Stonefire Tavern!
((I'm a terrible person who keeps not putting this up until last minute.))
Rhaala stood at Ki'in's door.
The key held in her hand, her eyes on the lock.
Alynore walked along the shady path, picnic basket in hand.
((First blog I've done in a while, I may be a bit rusty. I think I may really get back into things now, and Stell's blog seemed like a nice way to get into a story.))
One thing that I like about Elwynn, it has a lot of waterfalls. And rivers, those are nice too. Very nice places to meditate. The soft noise was a nice stimuli to help me begin meditating. It starts with a subtle relaxation of my muscles, which would normally mean one is about to fall asleep. That was the key aspect of going into the Emerald Dream, sending the body to sleep while keeping the conciousness from going with it. As time goes on, it begins to feel like a heavy blanket settles over my body, then it feels like I begin to lose the ability to feel. But even I'm not perfect at meditation, yet. My mind begins to wander, then I begin to see things in my minds eye, fantasies, hopes, dreams...memories.
The sight of blood never troubled me before today
This thursday at 7 sever (mountain) time at the Hall of Explorers in Ironforge, Darlain Truthhammer will be continue her lecture series on the cities of Azeroth with the tale of Orgimmar. Come on by and enjoy!
Each drop slides into the grooves carved along my horns, tracing the intricate silvered runes etched therein. I tilt my head back to revel in the warm summer rain, and laugh. Only...I hear nothing. I'm outside, looking in: watching her laugh, and twirl in the rain.
I'm back, laughing soundlessly. Perhaps I've gone deaf.
This doesn't taste like rain. This is wrong. Water won't answer my call.
Dun Morogh’s snow was blinding while the cold air stole breath after the warm embrace of Ironforge’s interior. Arkav shivered and drew his cloak closer as he strode up the narrow mountain path.
He eventually had to grasp at the rock wall, pulling himself higher, the air thin and sharp. His limbs burned, and snow packed into the base of his hooves. The view at the top was worth the effort as the draenei looked over the frosted landscape, his breath puffing before him rapidly.
Arkav settled into a meditative position, his cloak protecting him from the snow. He took the time to clear the bottom of his hooves; he’d never achieve balance with hard-packed gunk in them.
Tacked up on various billboards across the Alliance cities:
*Continuing on the vein of religions and philosophies, Tales of Azeroth will take a look at the Elements and those who hold them in reverence and partnership, the geomancers and shaman. Join us at the 7th evening horn in the Hall of Explorers in Ironforge to learn more.*
"What's it like to fly in a spaceship?"
Tonight will be my final test. I think that I should be able to pass it, but there's always a small chance I won't. Alot of people will be watching me and they would see every single little mistake I do. There were 3 judges that would be watching the fight with me and Taran Zhu. I've been drinking alot the past few days to calm myself down. And I couldn't focus on the test these past 2 weeks because of what I learned about the other worgen soul inside of me, Lunofsky's worgen I believe. I learned that the other worgen has to eat other worgen souls or else it will kill and consume me.
CHAPTER 3: Intrusion
The SI:7 agent stepped cautiously on the floor, knowing that any foreign sound would probably set off an alarm. But it wasn't such a task for Litao, as subtly was his methods of working. He continued following the lackey that would lead him directly to where this twisted man he has heard about. The more he followed this man, the closer he got to his destination. But also, he got closer to the sounds of torture and pain echoing acrossing the halls. They were faint only minutes ago, but now he was so close, he could even hear the breathing.
The lackey stopped before a set of guards leading to what happen to be the entrance to the source of all the painful screaming. Litao leaned his body into the shadows and listened in, jotting notes in his leather-bound book as he surveyed.
She made sure every belt and buckle of her uniform was fixed straight and proper before she ever stepped outside. The wind greeted her, a cold slap to her reddened cheeks, where freckles hid under a remaining flush, still bright and apparent. She couldn’t do anything about it, and not much more about the tangle of hair at the back of her head, an amber mess which defined poker-straight any other time but now. A gloved hand wouldn’t do much to smooth it, so she pulled her fingers through it only once before walking away into the internment camp compound. Eyes turned to her, as they always did; she walked through the gazes until they drifted away.
I remember when the forsaken first came to Gilneas...I was still learning more about my new form and what I was now able to do. When I turned into a worgen, I had to teach myself everything over again. I learned to rely on my hearing and sense of smell in addition to sight. The forsaken were pretty easy to smell though, that was a good thing and a bad thing--they smell pretty bad, or at least some did.
Greetings! Join us in the Hall of Explorer's in Northern Ironforge at 7:00 server (mountain time). This week's Lecturer will be starting a series on the major cities this week, the focus this week being on the Human capitol of Stormwind.
The four-person squad stepped away from the safety of Kirin’Var into the fields of Netherstorm. Fewer hints of the once lush farmland and orchards remained as the years passed and the magic loose in the air grew wilder. This day was relatively calm—even boring, with not even a mana wyrm in sight.
Alynore followed Kamron, adjusting her bulky communications pack often; it seemed to get heavier the longer they walked. She’d begged to come along to carry the gnomish device, and the squad’s mage had convinced Kamron to let the gangly teenager join them. There wasn’t much danger between the village and the outpost, after all.
Fools all of them.
No longer does the Crusade have to sort out the innocent from the heathens