The chilly autumn winds swept through the fog cloaked trees of Silverpine, the only sound heard, the steady clopping of hooves on cobblestone. Not a bird or cricket could be heard for miles. The eerie silence before the storm to come.
Dismounting from the heavily armored equine, a heavily cloaked, but oddly graceful figure. An Elf with an affiliation with blood. He approached a far more imposing form. An overseer from Orgrimmar, who’s lips curled at the mere sight of the approaching Elf.
“Make it quick, Valron! The Scourge have come crawling from their pits in these forests, and you wish to stay!”
The Elf, known b
"It's not over, Sylvanas. Not yet," growled Lord Darius Crowley of Gilneas. His shoulders were set, his arms moved in a gesture of finality as he spoke. To his immediate right, louring in the face of everything, stood Ivar Bloodfang, leader of the feral worgen pack who had agreed to join the efforts of the Gilneas Liberation Front and the Alliance. To his front, and glaring impassively back at him and Ivar, were the hard eyes of orcs, the glowing eyes of elves (living and undead), and the unreadable faces of the dread val'kyr. The Horde's worst. Darius' fingers curled and gripped the bladed, claw-like fist-weapons that he was armed with.
Lad
The moon's glow illuminated the tops of the trees of the vast forest, the branches and leaves atop disturbed by a slight breeze that would chill anyone to the bone, except for the lurker. It's yellow eyes would be the only thing visible to anything that was in the area, a warning to run the other way and never turn back.
The Worgen's nose twitched as it sniffed at the air, the ever so familiar scent of human hitting it's senses and causing her to snarl, lips curling over the wolfen teeth. Disgusting humans. They deserved to all die. Die. Rid of their smell. Kill them all. Kill. Kill.
The more the scent was noted, the more she begun to enrag
It was several days prior to the attack on Gilneas, that much I can remember
I had been making my way down one of the alleyways in the eastern most section of the city. Wearing the 'proper' attire of a Royal made the task much more difficult than it probably should have been. Heels clinked against the cobblestones as my corset kept me from being able to move in a quiet manner. Times like these made me question why I wanted to keep such a presence amongst the other Gilneans, especially with all of the killings within the city as of late. I had made it my job to complete my tasks as quickly as possible.
A few months prior, I had met a m
"Mum, Da I need to tell you something!"
The older looking couple turned to their daughter and grabbed her shoulders. They turned her and shoved her towards the basement in a hurry. Outside people screamed in fright and terror, their voices almost overpowering the whimpers of the young children nestled in the basement. Liviana Whitethorn turned and stopped her parents ushering, her arm winced in some pain. She defiantly looked at her father before pleading with them again.
"Da, please let me speak. It's important!"
Morris Whitethorn looked at his oldest daughter and frowned before turning her around, "NOT now Livi! Those damn beasts are out
The air was crisp, the leaves faded from living green to warmer orange and yellows. The notion of dying forests and the cold harshness of winter upon her never really sat with Liviana well, but the colors where nice to watch. Brushing her her hair behind her ear she smiled towards her 'sisters' of the Harvest. Stormwind permitted for the Wickerman to be set up with a Gilnean flair this year. An opportunity she didn't wish to miss. Greymane spoke at the initial burning and she felt her heart lift up with pride. Despite the curse that over took most of the Gilnean population, she could be no more prouder to call this stately elder a King. Glanc
Rescue Mission: The Journey by Raina-Hopkins, literature
Literature
Rescue Mission: The Journey
Victor stroked Minalei's cheek as her eyelids fluttered in wakefulness. He had let her sleep awhile longer this morning; they had not seen the point of heading back to their home in Darnassus, but the journey from Stormwind to their Gilnean camp had still been a long one. Today's journey would not be so long in distance, but it would feel like worlds away from the couple's comfortable soil. They would, in more ways than one, be a very long way from home.
Victor took a moment to admire his mate's drowsy, beautiful face. He knew that like all draenei, Minalei was very long-lived; yet in repose, she looked like a young girl.
"Morning, my love,
Everyone said that Bernard and Charlotte Preston were a poor match.
Theirs had been an arranged marriage. "They'd do well to combine their fortunes," their families had said. "They'll come to like each other after a few years."
It had been three years, and the pair had yet to show signs of liking each other.
Bernard scarcely cleared five feet in height, balding, and tended to the portly side. He and Charlotte met at meals, and beside making polite conversation, they ignored each other.
Charlotte stood five inches taller than Bernard, and wore her mounds of golden hair piled artfully on top of her head. Her dresses were always of the lates