[A-RP] The Eternal Tale - A Guild for Storied Adventurers

[Alehandra-argent-dawn]

The Eternal Tale

Stay a while and listen.

Alehandra sips her ale, leaning on the bar as she watches you with her glowing golden eyes. A playfully coy smile plays on her face as she glances a moment at the shutters beating against the wind and rain, a silent and unspoken blessing for the warm hearth nearby almost reaching her lips but for the sake of her ale, she relents. She turns to you and raises an eyebrow as she asks… “A story? Hmm, well I suppose I have one or two. How about… yes.”

She stands up straight, setting her mug aside whilst she refills yours from the barrel, placing it before you and settling herself down comfortably again. Then, she begins.

“There was once a hero, a bold and strong man who, whilst humble, was hailed as a great warrior by the people of these lands. Perhaps his greatest triumph was in a battle he fought against a powerful blight-ridden bear that stalked these lands. It attacked his town, and he faced it with the bravery you would expect of a hero. He fought, to protect his town, his family, and his people. The battle was fierce and this bear had broken many a brave warrior in its maw but not our hero.

The battle lasted for many hours, as the pair played hunter and hunted through the surrounding forest, a battle of skill and wit as they vied for the better position, but alas, it was at a moment when our hero was vulnerable, he found his luck changing.

The mighty bear roared from its ambush and bit out at the hero. Our hero used his sword to block the creature’s bite and though he prayed, seeing his impending death coming for no steel could withstand the force of such a bite, his sword held. It not only held, but our hero was able to swipe it aside, and cut into the beast’s head, severing its upper jaw from its lower and half decapitating it in a savage slice, killing the beast, and saving the day.”

Alehandra winked fondly, “Ah, but although this is where our story ends. It’s not where the tale begins. You see, the reason the sword held against the bite is quite telling. On the day it was forged, the smith had slept in. He had let the steel smelt overnight, settling it in a crucible nestled within a kiln. Had he woken on time, the steel would have been fine but found wanting in the moment. No… quite by accident, he’d heated the steel beyond what was needed and burned out more impurities than normal, resulting in steel far finer than any he’d previously made. From this steel, he forged the sword that he would gift to the town’s hero, as a reward for defeating some roving bandits.”

Aley sipped her ale and nodded, “The smith, slept in because he’d been overfed. His son, the day previous, had brought home a bounty far greater than any previously hunted. A succulent and powerful boar, one normally outside of the skill of his son’s hunting ability but for the sake of a single detail, fell to the young hunter’s efforts. So his son had brought home this bounty and the family had feasted upon it, filling themselves with pork and good cheer, as well as a decent amount of cider to wash it down.”

Aley giggled softly, “Wouldn’t you sleep in after such a bounty?”

Waiting another moment, Aley took another sip before continuing, “Ah, but the boy, the young hunter. He managed to defeat the boar with a grouping of special arrows. The youth would fletch his own with the feathers he’d find in the wilds but on one fateful day, he found himself in the city, visiting with his mother. The boy wandered to Lion’s Rest to visit the stone that carried his uncle’s name, and whilst there he became enamoured with a delightful bard. This bard played music that sang to his soul and uplifted him almost beyond reason. He couldn’t help but stare at her and when she noticed, her mismatched eyes fell on him with a playful glimmer. In a flash, she transformed into a beautiful bird and fluttered away, leaving a laugh on the breeze. A few feathers floated down from her, and the boy caught them. So fine were those feathers, that he used them to fletch the finest arrows he’d ever made.”

Aley nodded sagely, “So you see, but for the smile of a bard, a hero was able to defeat an erstwhile implacable foe. The bard inspired the boy, who hunted the boar, who filled the smith, who forged the sword that held where others wouldn’t and saved the hero, winning him the day. So you see… although the stories are all different, they are all connected, as one, in The Eternal Tale.”

What we are

The Eternal Tale is, in short, an adventuring guild. However, it’s an adventuring guild with an old and time-tested tradition. Long has the trope stood, of a retired adventurer opening an Inn, where other adventurers, young and old, can come together to share stories, rest between quests, and join together in their mutual love of the grand adventure.

We intend to provide a hub for adventurers to come together and share in the tales of their exploits, a launching point for new adventures, and a place of rest that specifically caters to the hero of every type and level and will be open to adventurers and adventuring parties regardless of guild membership.

For our guild members and perhaps interested guests, we intend to provide regular events and plots that cover a wide range of themes, from the mysterious and seemingly frivolous antics of rampant fey, to the malignant and alien machinations of the void-sworn and everything in between. These events will often provided by our imaginative and experienced DM team but don’t let that deter you from trying your hand at running events and stories of your own.

If you’re new to RP, we welcome you. With us, you can find an environment that will be comfortable, and filled with people willing to help guide you to becoming the RPer you want to become.

If you’re a veteran RPer, then welcome! With us, you can find, with luck, an audience of engaged and eager players/characters who want to explore whatever plot you might be concocting, or DMs that would be happy to offer stories and ideas for involved and engaged players/characters to interact with.

If you’re here just to relax and absorb the atmosphere, then come in, pull up a chair, grab a drink, and listen a while as we tell you a story…

Recruiting contacts

In Game: Alehandra, Haerelwen, and Tynmaerae.
Discord: @fragilicious

[Tynmaerae-argent-dawn]

I once heard someone remark “The sea does not care which way the little fishes swim?” and as I left the Curious Octopus, grimacing as the salt tang in the early morning air stung my cheeks, and I wondered…is that true.

Boralus, was yet to fully waken. The skies were a milky brown, strewn with deeper streaks of umber as the sun fought to penetrate the cloud cover. I eyed the silver streak in my hair sourly and scrubbed my face fitfully with my hand as I tried to make fresh air and willpower do the job of a good nights rest. Truthfully, I wasn’t sleeping well recently, disjointed images flooded my mind with alarming regularity and I was finding it too hard to understand their meaning and intent.

As I continued my early morning stroll in the dawn light, caught in internal reflections, I became aware that the world was bleaching of colour all around me. Not metaphorically, but physically, I watched as colour leached out of everything I could see, my entire view. First to pale muted pastel tones, then to sepia till at last I inhabited a world of pure monochrome. Everything had a grainy quality, a constantly moving static, like old movie film. Indeed I could actually make out artefacts and particulates on my field of vision.

I rubbed by eyes to clear my view and when that failed to dispel the image or vision, whatever this was, I shook my head forcibly to try and override what I was seeing.

Then I saw her, someone rendered in technicolour in this world of stark black and white, a small girl child, around eight years old, her expression piercing and sombre. She pointedly met my gaze and then turned, walking slowly towards the nearby expanse of beach.

Hesitantly I followed, gaining purpose as her steps gained momentum, she stopped in the middle of the beach and pointed her finger down at a large conch shell, its surface glittered oddly in the first weak rays of light. Even in this world devoid….mostly of colour. The child eyed me with serious dark eyes and mimed lifting the shell to my ear. As strange as this was, I was prepared to humour her, I smiled and lifted the shell so I could hear the thunder of the waves.

My smile froze, and then died, as shock blanched my face of colour. This was not the sounds of the ocean I expected. I became acutely aware of two facts.

One, the child before me was dead….

Two, that I now knew what these apparent gifts would cost, and I sent a silent prayer to any deities listening that I was strong enough to bare it…

To learn more of our great stories and tales, to take a part in our collaborative shared narratives, to breathe life into your characters as well as join our merry band of adventurers, with dare we hope your own tales to tell….

Then contact
In Game: Alehandra, Haerelwen, and Tynmaerae.
Discord: @fragilicious

To begin your own “Eternal Tale”, we look forward to watching your characters develop alongside ours…

[Herst-argent-dawn]

A gnomish voice came over the radio, crackling as a result of the interference caused by the raucous cheering in the background, “We got the fuel, colonel! Thank you! Crawler 3-oh out.”

The voice was barely heard as celebratory whoops were let out in the crawler, which normally would have gotten a verbal lashing from the expedition’s team leader, but he let it pass. Thanks to the men in the plane, the ones who just dropped off the life-saving fuel, they were going to survive. He’d let his men have their celebration.

On the other side of the radio, Kimmish Steelnut groaned as he leaned forward, flicking a few switches on the radio and opening all channels. He brought the vox to his mouth and coughed as he clicked it a few times, getting the attention of anyone listening. He spoke through a cough, “This is Steelnut… Crawler three-oh refuelled. Rescue operation was a success.”

Kimmish paused for a few moments, keeping the button pressed as he sighed. His other hand was still pressed against his gut, stemming the blood that seeped freely through the rough bandage Will had given him. With a gentle frown, he spoke again. “Job’s done, people. Pack up and make your way to the rendezvous point at the LORE basecamp…”

There was another pause, this time met with a slight wheeze as he found himself running out of breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, and finally added, “Colonel Kimmish Steelnut, signing off.”

Leaning forward, the old gnome flicked the radio off, ending any further transmissions, giving him a few moments alone with Will. Grimacing slightly with the pain, he turned his head to glance at the human sitting in his peripheral vision.

The human looked worn but had fought well. He’d stalked through the island like he’d lived there for years. Easily avoiding the dangers that had claimed so many of the gnomes. Kimmish couldn’t help but smile slightly, even as the human seemed to stare distractedly off into the encompassing magical darkness that still laid claim to the rest of the island. Staring as though he could see something the gnome couldn’t.

Kimmish broke the silence, “Thank you, Herst. I wouldn’t have pulled that off without you. I’d have tried, but you saw what happened. You really saved my men… thank you.”

Will blinked, leaning back in his seat as he turned towards Kimmish, the human’s eyes were bright and piercing, still afire from the fight they’d escaped. But, his voice was calm and even, “I appreciate it, Steelnut. As long as your men are safe. You can get off the island now, and we can finish this.”

Kimmish smiled, and nodded. He leaned forward again, locking the flightstick into position and pushing a series of buttons on the control panel. A green light began to blink, as he lit up the beacon and activated the autopilot. Placing his hand fondly on the console, he tapped it the way he would to a favourite pet, and sighed. The plane would fly them to the base camp, and when they arrived, the crawler crew could lock on the beacon and remote the plane into a safe landing.

Confident he’d done all he could, he then pulled a small photograph from his jacket pocket. The laminated paper was smeared with a little blood and the old gnome did his best to clean it up but the effort was futile, there was only more blood on his hands. With a wry smile of acceptance, he slid the photograph into the console, propping it up in front of him before sitting back in his seat. Coughing again, and failing to hide it, he stared at the picture and smiled, “Not long now, sweetie. Daddy’s going to be with you… real soon.”

The plane landed at the Sunrise base camp without issue, but Will seemed concerned. Several members of the gnomish expedition came running over to the plane with a panicked expression. The lead gnome was yelling, “We had to remote you both in, what the hell happened?”

Will frowned and unbuckled himself, leaning forward to check on Kimmish, and immediately noticing the pool of blood at his feet, blood that had leaked through Steelnut’s seat. He turned to face the old gnome and paused.

The old man sat in the pilot’s seat, his eyes closed in gentle repose.

---

https://imgur.com/a/1vEMZ9R (Steelnut’s Photograph)

---

Not every story has a happy ending. Some are pyrrhic, some are sad, some are tragic. Sometimes you win, at a great cost.

Do you have a story to tell? Come tell it as part of The Eternal Tale.

Join in our collaborative storytelling and shared narratives, where we breathe life into our world and our characters through sharing their adventures.

Don’t just tell your story, Be your story.

Contact:
In Game: Alehandra, Haerelwen, and Tynmaerae.
Discord: @fragilicious

[Tynmaerae-argent-dawn]

Fleur admired himself in the fly spotted but none the less grand mirror of his dressing room. His face splitting into a wide grin as he admired the perfection of his face. Aware that grinning could cause wrinkles, he immediately turned it into what he thought of as his come hither pout and fluttered his eyelashes at his reflection.

Fleur Delacroix, also known as Eric, was one of the most sought after female impersonators in all of the pleasure houses of Stormwind. This was obviously down to his already striking and to his mind perfect bone structure, his skills with paint and powder and he had to admit to himself, his not inconsiderable skills as a vocalist. Eric was not disingenuous he knew he had the voice of an angel, and it would always be his fall-back skill.

Yet…because he also had a taste for the finer things in life, rich silks, velvets and brocades, trinkets and baubles that glittered when they caught the light. Eric also cultivated less salubrious skills and connections. Whomever said crime didn’t pay, to Eric’s mind was a damn fool.

An observer therefore, missing many of the salient facts may have been surprised to see how quickly Eric reacted to the guttering of nearby lamp, as it reacted to an inexplicable draught. Eric grabbed the small compact pistol from his dressing table, spinning around with little difficulty despite his attire of corset and petticoats and took aim at the window behind him.

He eyed the open window sourly, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the miasma of smells that suddenly intruded on his usually fragrant boudoir, Stormwind was a bustling city, and the smells were testament to a bustling population. Tendrils of fog weaved their sinuous fingers through the small gap. He scanned the room quickly and was surprised that despite his hard earned street smarts and hard won skills, he almost failed to spot her in the shadow crowded room.

Vash was lounged in the corner, her whole body languid and at ease, she regarded Eric with a wide grin of her own as she pulled her hood back and shook out her long flame coloured hair while at the same time snagging a bunch of purple blue grapes from a nearby bowl and then cramming them into her mouth.

“Oi, those are mine you thieving little wench!”

Eric exclaimed with fake indignation, then because he was who he was, he sighed at the beauty of her hair. He knew should he persuade her to sell it, after the attention of his wig makers it would look much better on him. However he understood, that to someone in Vash’s profession, such lustrous and above all noticeable hair was a tool that she sometimes very much relied on. However what in the seven void hells has she got on her face?

“Darling, sweetie, are you moonlighting as a chimney sweep these days”

Eric crooned in honeyed tones and he stepped forward and wiped a finger down her cheek, only to come away with his finger coated in a thick dark green grease.

Vash waved him away irritably and strode to his wash basin, poured a generous amount of water from the jug into the ornate bowl and then taking a nearby flannel began to scrub her face. Replying over her shoulder as she got on with the task at hand.

“I’ve been prowling the rooftops of the Crimson Drapes for a good few hours now, listening at the windows, sneaking into the offices and gathering intel, it seems our friend is residing there, partaking of the…comforts shall we say. The camouflage helps me stay hidden”

Eric scoffed openly. “Darling, you really do need to cultivate more than a night time look, and your ensemble, well it’s frankly passé, also green, really?”

Her face clean Vash turned and laughed with sudden infectious delight

“Oh Fleur, darling, beautiful Fleur, if I told you, sadly I would have to kill you!”

Eric rolled his eyes theatrically and waived his hand dismissively as he returned to his table and began to energetically powder his face.

“Then sweetie, don’t trouble yourself on my account!”

He paused in his beautification to slide a folded piece of paper across the dressing table, tapping it significantly to gain Vash’s attention before stating grimly.

“The man you are looking for is not in the business we call show, however in the recent killings I agree there has been a flair for the dramatic, the theatrical, of setting stage so to speak. So I can see why that was your first instinct”

Eric his face suddenly grim, returned a sober look with Vash in the mirror as she came forward to retrieve the information.

“I only have his name for you, I am hoping that is enough to find and stop him, we have both lost too many friends to people such as him, and his increased activity is now having an effect on the businesses hereabouts, maybe he has a problem with negotiable affection?”

Vash reached forward snagged the paper and left a full purse on the table in it’s stead.

“A fanatic, well I’ll try my best, but I am not the one who wields the blades Fleur, I am merely the ears and eyes of darkness”

Eric turned to reply, but she had already gone, he shook his head slightly as he heard the slight click as the window closed, the only sign that Vash had retreated once more to the rooftops of Stormwind.

The full moon appeared fitfully between the clouds and smog, blanketing the rooftops in a gauzy blanket that made Vash’s tasks that evening so much easier. She considered the green and grey clothes she was wearing and considered the art of concealment, of distraction. Both fundamental talents of her craft.

Vash was aware that most people who knew her regarded her as a frivolous, shallow and hedonistic creature. The consummate party girl. To be fair she did everything in her power to ensure that was so. Distraction, sleight of hand, smoke, mirrors and artifice were her stock in trade. They also assumed she wasn’t very bright…which for them was dangerous conclusion.

Take camouflage for instance, the majority of people believed black was the most effective and efficient shade, after all the night is black, shadows are black are they not. However they failed to consider ambient light.

Such were the dangers of intuitive camouflage. Only in an unlit cellar, with no windows would black be totally undetected. Vash preferred shades of grey, green and navy blue, which people would be surprised to learn rendered you almost invisible.

Her reverie was broken by a sudden insistent noise, tiles moving slightly, someone else was on the roof and trying to mover as surreptitiously as herself. She spun round and almost collided with a broad solid expanse of chest she was astonished to see attired in the same dark green and grey hues.

Surprised she looked up into his equally surprised face, yellow eyes that glittered like the sins of angels met her own and they both took an involuntary breath as they regarded the other. Her hair was loose but the man in-front of her was still hooded. However the light from the moon painted a distinctly leonine face that was fast registering first shock and then…awe.

Vash became aware that not only was her own blood thrumming in her ears, but her heart was racing, almost fit to burst. It was a runaway. She could feel the heat of him, feel the pulse of his own blood and heart as he did nothing, nothing at all to dispel their sudden contact.

Vash put her hands palm up and rested them on his chest, her intention to push him away, to give her some space from his sudden overpowering presence on her senses, and it seemed her body. Her face flushed with embarrassment…well not just embarrassment.

However as soon as her hands made contact, she found she couldn’t move them. She regarded them incredulously, willing them with every fibre of her being to move. She registered the beats of his own heart, huge, powerful, thundering. She looked up to see the man above her also flushed with colour, also regarding her hands pressed against his chest till once again their gazes speared each other. They both stared deep into each other’s eyes and registered simultaneously as their pupils dilated turning their stares to midnight.

The man suddenly swore a ripe oath, groaned and then grabbed a handful of her hair and brought his head down to meet hers, their lips meeting in sudden an inexplicable fury…

For Vash the world stopped, all noise fell away, a city silenced as she surrendered to need, fire, the song of blood coursing through veins suddenly too fragile to contain it’s power.

He suddenly pulled away with apparent difficulty, his breathing as ragged and laboured as her own, he bent down and growled “Soon!” in her ear before suddenly stepping backwards off the roof, and blowing her a sudden kiss as the darkness and mist of the alley claimed him.

Vash her body and emotions in turmoil regarded the mist filled alley where he had dropped with incredulity and confusion. Subconsciously she put her fingers to her swollen lips, savouring the heat and fire they had just experienced, her eyes wide, her hands shaking. Who was that….what was that?

She shook her head a sunk gratefully to the ground hugging her knees as she fought for control.

             ________________________________________________________________________

To learn more of our great stories and tales, our characters, to take a part in our collaborative shared narratives, to breathe life into your characters as well as join our merry band of adventurers, with dare we hope your own tales to tell….

Then contact
In Game: Alehandra, Haerelwen, and Tynmaerae.
Discord: @fragilicious

To begin your own “Eternal Tale”, we look forward to watching your characters develop alongside ours…

[Alehandra-argent-dawn]

Alehandra’s study, at the Stargazer Estate

Alehandra leaned over her desk and frowned. Her normally tidy workspace was filled with several reference tomes and scrolls, spread open with little strips of paper holding pages and small notes scribbled among scraps of parchment. The estate’s servants had attempted to pass by her darkened study to offer refreshments or rest, but the small whispered curses from Alehandra discouraged them. The Lady Alehandra didn’t swear, at least… not so sharply. The staff were unsure how to deal with this.

Fortunately, they were rescued as the vibrant steps of the younger Lady of the house entered the fray.

With a fond smile, learned from her adoptive mother, the human teen swept through the concerned staff and picked up a tray of tea and dried cakes, grinning playfully as she entered the study.

Making no effort to hide her presence, she placed the tray down on a nearby table. The noise of clinking porcelain filled the study and Helen looked up with a playful glint in her eyes, expecting to interrupt an idle chastisement from Aley, but the Draenei was too deep into her studies to notice, the noise went unheard.

Helen huffed with an intolerant grunt, this simply won’t do. She stood up and moved to the curtains, pulling them aside and letting the light of the morning sun fill the study. As the sunlight threw itself across the room, washing over Aley’s desk in a sudden bloom of vibrancy and warmth, Helen called out, “Por’aman vas entara keu’uum, Ma’it?”

Aley blinked suddenly, dazzled by the sudden appearance of the sun as she shook off the shock and rose from her seat, stretching herself out with the sound of bones and muscles that had been locked in the same position for far too long. She opened her mouth to speak, but could only managed a drawn out exclamation of relief as the stretch pulled out a tension she hadn’t been aware of until just then, “Aaahhhh, what? Daylight? What time is it?”

Helen giggled and shook her head, “Light, Mother, how long have you been at it?!”

Aley sniffed the air, and sighed as she moved over to the tea, wasting no time in pouring two cups. She took one between her hands and smiled, closing her eyes as she sniffed the tea appreciatively, “Hmm… thank you for rousing me from my study. It seems I was trapped.”

Helen frowned, folding her arms as she looked at the desk, “What’re you working on?”

Aley turned, glancing at the desk as her brow furrowed in thought, “It’s odd. There’s something that we’re investigating and it makes less and less sense. Strange rituals, bizarre spell components, unusual references. That ledger is as much a journal as it is a ledger and the writer clearly doesn’t understand what’s going on, but he started an investigation of his own.”

Aley sipped her tea before continuing, shrugging as she spoke, “His notes suggest that the odd requests made by a customer that we have an ‘interest’ in, leads to a ritual scroll. It’s draconic, and apparently whatever this thing is, lies in some ruined archive on the Dragon Isles.”

Helen snorted, “Mom’s going to be happy about that.”

Aley nodded, smiling behind her cup, “Hmm, well I’m sure the fact that it’s an ancient ruin will more than makeup for the fact that she’ll have to return there. You know how she loves those.”

Aley sighed, placing her cup down and sitting at the table where the tray was set. She leaned forward and tapped another seat, smiling warmly at Helen, “Come, Sha’i. Tell me of school.”

---

Deep in the Dragon Isles

A bulky and muscular dragonkin stood at the edge of an overlook that gave him a view of the worksite. Dozens of mortals slaved in the pit below, digging and mining away at the old ruin as they tried to clear the way for his team to investigate and hopefully track down the artefact the master was seeking.

He lashed his tail impatiently, growling as he watched over the weakling mortals and thought to himself; these pathetic wretches died far too quickly and easily, better to use golems or elementals… although, he had to admit that he did appreciate the master’s desire to see their lessers suffer.

He turned slightly, tasting the air and grimacing as the foul stench of a filth-ridden human approached. His bearing was only slightly more noble than the cretins under his command. The Dragonkin recognised him as one of the pit supervisors. The wretch spoke meekly, bowing deeply as he ventured, “M… my lord. We need more… time. The quota is too high. I know that we need… progress, but the others are being pushed too hard. We’re losing too many to traps and hazards. At this rate, if we continue, there’ll be nobody left to work the dig.”

The Dragonkin snarled, turning in a sudden jerking motion and snatching the human by the neck. Squeezing, he held the human off the edge of the overlook and roared out for the others to hear, “This ‘thing’ tells me you’re concerned for your lives!? Let me show you how ‘valuable’ you are to the master!”

The word was laced with a mocking venom, and without further preamble, the Dragonkin released the human, leaving him to fall screaming to the floor down below. The man hit the floor with a crunch, his bones snapping violently from the impact, leaving him bleeding and groaning in pain. The Dragonkin stepped off the edge, landing with a heavy thud, his foot crushing the human’s head with a wet crack as he glared at the others, all of them shaking in fear. In almost a roar, he bellowed, “GET BACK TO WORK!”

---

Some villains are complicated, where others are simply evil for the love of it. Maybe it’s difficult to tell? Or maybe it’s as stark as night and day.

What would your character do? If confronted with such a villain?

Although we will provide you with every opportunity to explore your own story, we also provide an ongoing guild narrative to participate in with weekly events.

Come join in our collaborative storytelling and shared narratives, where we breathe life into our world and our characters through sharing their adventures.

Contact:
In Game: Alehandra, Haerelwen, and Tynmaerae.
Discord: @fragilicious

[Zyallent-argent-dawn]

Lil nudge for this concept so it doesn’t end up in the forum bin.

[Tynmaerae-argent-dawn]

The video image was grainy, particles and artefacts littered the cellulose, either due to the age of the film or potentially down to the advanced age of the camera. Rendered in myriad shade’s of grey and black it depicted an image of a female high elf, her face pale, her hair a tumble of loose curls in the lightest shades the camera can tolerate.

Her face is marred by an ugly puckered scar that runs from the corner of her right eye to her mouth. Another notable feature is a strand of hair on the left side catches the light oddly and as she moves sometime a blinding flash obscures the image, though clearly originating there.
She is obviously in a state of high agitation as her face creases in frustration and she suddenly steps forward taps the camera and mutters “Shards, is this thing even on?”

Nodding to a reply she can hear of screen she takes a seat and, glances down at her worn leathers and asks. “So, I just talk and it will……record?, okay!”
Suddenly flushing she begins, hesitantly at first but gaining confidence as she continues.

“My name is Tynmaerae Fleetfoot, and if I could define myself with one single skill it would be Beast Master, I can charm, converse, utilise a wide range of creatures of all shape and sizes”

She suddenly shifts position as if in pain, or maybe remembering a phantom pain perhaps, and grimaces.

“Has it always been easy, no, it’s a skill, it needed practice and when learning it, well, beasts have teeth, claws, hooves, beaks and talons a huge array of natural weapons at their disposal, they are not the most nurturing of teachers”

“Yet, I have to say, I am a fast learner.”

She looks behind the camera and gestures impatiently with her hands

“Is that enough, or do you need more?”

“more, you need more…empty night….okay…okay….”

“So, what else is useful here….well, I do have other skills, here I am mainly used as a scout, my drawing is good, my photography in my opinion, better”

She suddenly pales…her face seems to lose expression for a moment and she fidgets with her pants slightly, almost a reflexive action.

“I do have….lets call them responsibilities, tasks, maybe something to do with payment for being so good with beasts, so aware of the natural world…however…”

She suddenly grins with devilment to a person right behind the camera and with a dark little chuckle states “Alehandra, I don’t think you need to know anything about that, this is after all merely a small record of your in house adventurers…I beg of you, have I done enough?, please can I go?”

You hear an answering laugh, the voice throaty like melted chocolate, warm and inviting….

Then screen fades to black.

                          _______________________________________

Eternal Tale, always recruiting adventurers wishing to explore their characters and game play in different ways. Want to experience life in Azeroth from the perspective of your character?, Have a love of collaborative narrative?? Then come join…

Weekly Role Play Events, Workshops, and Discussions, a place where we ARE passionate about role-playing. Maybe we are YOUR tribe???

Contact:
In Game: Alehandra, Haerelwen, and Tynmaerae.
Discord: @fragilicious

[Alehandra-argent-dawn]

An Excerpt from the Journal of William Herst, written during the final stages of the assault on the corrupted world tree, Fineldrassil.

---

22nd February, 41.

I thought I’d be afraid. I thought that even after everything that’s happened there would be something about that island that made me fear. Maybe the voice, ‘her’ voice? Maybe the foul and twisted creatures there? I didn’t though.

I saw the tree, same as always, but the others can see it now too. They stared at its scale, the enormity of something like that… the darkness was still there but the flashes of artillery fire and explosives lit the area. Tides, Celm’s forces are hitting it with such ferocity that there are times you can almost see the entire outline.

I remember hearing Oalathian cursing, it must be hard for him and Zen. Seeing a world tree that size, having stood longer than Teldrassil ever did but so utterly corrupt. Ending a world tree is no small task and it falls on them to do it. I’m not sure if I could in their place.

The first phase of the operation was simple. Take the fel core to the cannon and wait for Lilithara to open up the tree. We had to guard it, the damned bugs charged right out of the darkness at us. Fighting even as their pale skin burned in the sun. The fight was easy, they were slower and weaker than usual.

The cannon fired, but a wall of those gargoyle creatures diffused the shot. Lili gave us a marker so we could manually target the entry location on the tree once we’d cleared the sky.

The Dwarves loaned us their gryphons and we engaged. The fight was tough, I’d never fought from gryphon-back before. Maybe It’s something I should practice? I missed more shots than I hit but regardless, we managed to push through, even as we were harried by some of the island’s druids.

We made it through, and targeted the tree. Lili’s cannon made terrifyingly short work of the bark and gave us an entry into the tree.

Inside, we met the hostile druids, but luck was on our side, at least a little. The blind worm that’s haunted us for our time on the island made an appearance. Killed the druids, and then turned on us. It was a hard fight, but we managed to trick it into getting pinned beneath a pillar. After that, the coup de grace was easy.

With the worm dead, we explored further into the tree. Eventually to be met by that warden. The one twisted by the overgrowth.

That fight was particularly hard. All the tenacity and skill of a Warden, mixed with the brutal resilience of… whatever the hell infected her.

In the end, we won that fight too, but not without some heavy wounds.

---

As we approach the release of the new expansion, it seems that a lot of the RP has quietened down. However, Eternal Tale is still recruiting! Join us if you want to explore your character through the input of other invested characters, or if you want to participate in ongoing and involved plots.

We run regular RP story events, engage in active discussion on elements of RP, and engender an environment of passion for the hobby. Feel free to reach out to us!

Contact:
In Game: Alehandra, Haerelwen, and Tynmaerae.
Discord: @fragilicious

[Tynmaerae-argent-dawn]

Maddox eyelids seemed unusually heavy, weighted and his head ached suspiciously at the back. His head was hard, noted for it, so he felt confident that no lasting damage had been done.

However it was clear that someone had decided that his attention was needed and had chosen to be quite emphatic in how they sought it.

To make sure, without opening his eyes, he tested his range of movement. Hmmm. Yes, his hands were bound, behind some kind of unyielding seat, probably a simple wooden chair. He applied the lightest pressure to his feet in an effort to test the seat and found it…unmoving. So possibly bolted to the floor too.

Still with his eyes closed he tried to orientate himself before he made his consciousness known.

He’d been in this situation countless times, you didn’t walk in the dark without incident. Situations like this were how such dark dwellers settled their scores. So be it.

Yet, yet…his lips pulled back in an involuntary grin of appreciation and dare he even admit it to himself…anticipation.

Air currents and light footfalls indicated that others were present, and the smell of lush ripe peaches, pomegranates and autumn ripe apples clearly denoted one significant individual’s presence.

So, ‘she’ was the one whom needed his attention and to be frank he was more than willing to bestow on her his undivided, and he had, if he was being brutally honest with himself, antagonised her.

He knew she sought this particular prize and at the last minute he had blithely snatched it away. She was bound to wish to address the balance. If she wanted some suggestions on this, he could think of several pulse pounding, heart racing and sweaty scenario’s that would no doubt appease.

Instead he sighed with boredom, and still with closed eyes stated in a tired tone.

“If someone want’s my attention, they only have to ask…”

To be continued

As we approach the release of the new expansion, it seems that a lot of the RP has quietened down. However, Eternal Tale is still recruiting! Join us if you want to explore your character through the input of other invested characters, or if you want to participate in ongoing and involved plots.

We run regular RP story events, engage in active discussion on elements of RP, and engender an environment of passion for the hobby. Feel free to reach out to us!

Contact:
In Game: Alehandra, Haerelwen, and Tynmaerae.
Discord: @fragilicious

[Alehandra-argent-dawn]

As the foreboding darkness sweeps over the fungus-like trees deep in the caverns of Hallowfall, the whispering of the void pulls at the edges of listening, etching doubts into the hearts of those who find themselves in view of the great crystal.

Deep in the cavern, in one of the outlying villages at the edge of the vast expansive cave, a chitinous screech is interrupted, cut short as the sound of blood splattering across a wooden door follows the creature into death.

Aley turns with the cut, having severed the head of one of the spider creatures invading the village. She casts her gaze about, her golden eyes hidden beneath a hood as she watches the townspeople scatter in a near panic, desperate to reach safety.

She notices the Lightwell at the centre of the town as it flickers weakly, futilely trying to hold back the encroaching darkness as a paladin stands nearby, wreathed in flame-hued iconography that gave her chills for a moment, leaving her to wonder if the scarlets had made it down here?

She shook her head, it didn’t matter, the paladin was using their Light to try and sustain the well and they were failing. Attacked on all sides by the spider creatures he fought valiantly but could not strike out at his assailants whilst keeping the flame of the well alight.

She grimaced, slicing her way through the creatures to reach him, her assumption that the flame of the Lightwell would somehow shield them her only hope against the rushing darkness that threatened to overwhelm them both. In a few minutes, she reached him.

She struck out, piercing the body of one of the creatures and lifting it, her impressive strength tossing the carcass aside with ease as she stood next to the man, covering one side and offering a small reprieve from the onslaught.

He turned to her and yelled, “Get to the shelter! I can’t hold them for long.”

Aley shook her head, holding out her hand to cast a burst of flame around them, hoping to wash away. She grimaced as nothing happened, the foul crystal above with it’s waves of darkness and Light causing her power to cycle and throw off her ability to channel the arcane. The Light within her battling against everything else as it tried to either embrace the Light above, or shield against the void around them. Scoffing, she simply used her outstretched hand to grapple one of the spiders, pushing and driving it’s head into the ground as she crushed its skull, “Bah! Concentrate on the fight, Paladin, and maybe we’ll make it through this night.”

The paladin nodded, turning his focus to the Lightwell, “My thanks, hero! I am Fulton, Lamplighter of Hallowfall. I appreciate your aid.”

Aley lashed out again, alternating her strikes between her sword and her staff as she held the line against the spiders, the creatures no match for her but still threatening to push forward given their numbers. “Whatever you’re doing, Fulton, do it quickly! We cannot hold for long.”

Fulton cried out, almost in pain as he dropped his weapon, adding a second hand to his efforts as he tried to fill the Well from his own Light, but for all the power he could add, it was sapped away by the darkness around them. “Aaahhh! I can’t… it’s too much! We need more Lamplighters! Something is… draining…”

Aley cut down another of the spiders, turning to face the well and reaching out with her power, trying to discover what fuelled it, how it worked, what if anything she could do to help. She closed her eyes for a moment and the second she did she felt a pulse. The Well, it was attuned to the crystal. It felt familiar, like music. She hadn’t heard the music of the Light since her power was taken from her. She had healed since, but her power had been diminished since that day. But this crystal called out to her. “Hold the line, Fulton. Let me try! I have… an idea.”

Fulton nodded, turning and picking up his shield and mace, facing the spiders with as much fervour as he’d faced the well. Crushing chitin and smashing claws with each strike, offering only a grim nod of acknowledgement as he took Aley’s place on the line.

Aley turned to the Lightwell and sheathed her weapons, holding out her hand and muttering to herself, “If you’re going to cripple my magic, then at least make yourself useful. Come on, I’ve felt you wanting to break out since arriving on this island. So let’s go.”

Nothing happened.

Aley growled to herself, focusing as she tried to calm herself, thinking back to her days as a paladin, reminding herself how she would call upon the Light during similar rituals. The calm that was required, the serenity, the surrender. She took a deep breath and allowed herself to slip into an almost meditative focus, reaching for the Light deep within her. At first she saw only a spark, the flickering mote that had been the extent of her power since her fall. She reached out to it and took it into imaginary hands, letting herself reach out to touch the Lightwell and create a connection between the two. For a moment she hesitated, and then she did something she hadn’t attempted in years.

With a quiet breath, Aley offered a prayer to the Light.

In a sudden rush of power, the spark within her bloomed. It connected to the Lightwell and set it to flare furiously. In a burst of holy flame, the well erupted, sending a shockwave out across the village, a wave of golden fire that scorched away all the creatures of shadow, rendering them to dust in a moment. It struck with such force that it tossed Aley’s hood from her head and showed her eyes, rune, and tattoos, all glowing brighter than they had in years. A corona of Light appeared around her as the well continued to grow.

It was over in only a few moments, but the result was profound. Fulton turned to face Aley, gazing in awe at her radiance. He squinted then, trying to assess what this creature was, how they had attuned so powerfully to the Lightwell and how they glowed as though they were of… no. Impossible.

He turned to face Beledar and as his eyes fell upon it, it shifted slowly from void to Light.

He turned again to face Aley and whispered reverently, “Who… what are you?”

Aley shook her head, looking down at her hands with a slight grimace as she tried to process what had just happened. She hadn’t felt that powerful in years and although it felt good, she was confused at how the power that once sustained her suddenly felt alien.

She shook her head and turned to Fulton, “It’s… a long story, but I’m not the only one of my kind, and more of us are coming to help you.”

Fulton gasped, hooking his mace on his belt and holding out his hand, “Come with me, our leaders will want to speak with you.”

---

With the new expansion released, there are new opportunities for character growth and many more stories to be told. What will your story be in this brave new land? Will yu aid one of the new factions in their goals? Or, perhaps, you will forge your own path and tell your own tale. Regardless, all are welcome to join as we explore these stories together, for each and every one of us are a part of the Eternal Tale.

Contact:
In Game: Alehandra, Haerelwen, and Tynmaerae.
Discord: @fragilicious