[A-RP] The Handmaidens of Elune 🌙

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Yes, the Sisterhood’s Suramar branch is certainly :ok_hand:

And Vaelthira is :fire:

But you’re the only exception!

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Mori! You live! Thank you for the kind words, we miss you :crescent_moon:

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Ofcourse I live! And I miss you an Heddy to!

If the next expansion is better then this expansion; I might return, tho! And ofcourse I’ll return for WoW’s birthday! :stuck_out_tongue:

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That is why we make our own stories with blackjack and hookers
I mean what?
In any case totally looking forward to some Eluning with our favorite brother duo.

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Lovely folks.

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Once i get my laptop back, I’ll be up for some arpee again :wink:

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Missing you! You’re missing all the following fun in Feralas :frowning:

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I know, but my laptop is gone for 3 more weeeeeks :sob:

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That is ufortunate but perhaps you will be able to join us at our Pilgrimage through Kalimdor.

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What’s that? Just you and me?

If you insist :heart_eyes:

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I wrote us, but sure we can ditch the others at some Moonwell :smiley:

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A romantic getaway on the slopes of Mount Hyjal :wink:

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There better not be any hand holding going on ere, that stuff is Lewd, and we would have to burn you both at the stake in the name of modesty!!

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h ttps://imgur.com/gallery/bGlC4

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Thanks for not murdering me, was super nice of ya!! I’m now hiding in a tent and whimpering at every noise!

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This is long Overdue!!

I did a write-up for my part in the Trials of the Black Moon battle!

The First night of battle was one that struck with unexpected fury.

Vigil was held at the temple, peace was to be found as people visited for blessings and solace, a moment of reflection in a place of such beauty and away from the squabbles of so many travelers trying to find themselves a place at Feathermoon Stronghold. While the Handmaidens had made ready for battle, and expected it at their door, they didn’t know it would come soon.

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“The Horde Approach! I flew over them, they are coming!”, it was Sabersong’s report that made them ready, that set the gears in motion for what would be a bloody bout. The Druid was quickly dispatched to Feathermoon for reinforcements while the Handmaidens made ready, the forest falling quiet for but a moment before the invaders roared their charge.

Da’leshar came out to meet them.

Swords and arrows crashed against the barrier that burst to life before her, silverline energies flaring into existence as Niamh barred their attackers. Rifle shots rung out from behind her, slamming into the bodies of their foes while Astral blasts of pure moonfire lashed out and missiles of arcane marked the very air around her. She held her ground, fighting as hard as she could to parry and block what strikes she could, but not all could be driven back.

She just needed to stand fast.

She just had to buy them time.

From the midst of the invading force, the giant form of a Zandalari strode forwards, his cohorts giving him ample space as he crashed forwards, driving his blade into the stone where Da’leshar once stood. A gutteral threat rumbled from beneath his mask, but the thumping sound of her own heartbeat deafened her to his fury.

His next attack came harder, driving a deep gorge in her arm as she failed to parry the blow, her blood splashing against the stone in deep rivets. She spat a curse at him and made ready to fight back, her war talons already dented from trying to drive back too many attacks, the various wounds she bore before the troll caught her showing signs of her failing resolve.

He raised his weapon again, a cold stare in his eyes, around him the invaders unleashed their force at the defenders behind her, spellwork lit the night sky like fireworks as the furious battle unfolded. In the corner of her eye, a forsaken charged at her with blade raised high, she wouldn’t be quick enough, she could avoid both. She turned ready to make her final stand


The Forsaken exploded into a mess of blood and arcane energy.

“For the Alliance!!” came a cry echoed by what sounded a hundred fold.

In a matter of seconds, the temple was swarmed with blue banners and furious battle. Lightforged charged like bolts of holy wrath, Ren’dorei sent their foes screaming into oblivion while Kaldorei emerged from the shadows like ravens seeking the death of a simple field mouse. Swords clashed against shield and armor, she could only watch as hands grasped her from behind and dragged her into the temple, into safety. She watched in horror as allies were cut down, regardless of the overwhelming numbers, watched faces she had met at the stronghold contort into agony as they died ignoble deaths. As the battle surged to the east garden, the army moved with it, united in their fury to drive the Horde back from such a sacrilegious attack, leaving behind the bodies of the dead and dying while their own healers moved to aid them.

“Goddess preserve us
” she uttered.

“Bring them inside!” Niamh cried out.

The First night of battle was over.

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The next two days, the battle raged in the North, each night the wounded would be brought in and tended to, some with fierce injuries that required extended treatments. Bones had been shattered and spells had burnt away the flesh of many unfortunate souls. Company had come to join them on a near permanent basis, the Nightblade Sentinels and Moonlight Embrace had come to lend their aid where they could, healing the wounded and helping protect the temple from invading forces and those that, by no fault of their own- would cause harm to the already fragile energies of the Moonwell.

It was on the third night that the invaders struck again.

The first sign of the coming battle, they were already losing.

Da’leshar heard the familiar burst and crackle before she saw the green mist bellow over what was once a glaive thrower, before she could call to mobilize, the second was destroyed. The great war weapons buckled and warped, the painted metal peeling and rusting as the wood it was grafted onto transmuted into sick dying insults to Kaldorei engineering.

“The Horde are Upon us! To Arms!!” she cried, the attack quickly followed from all directions, flanking east and west, pressing up the ancient stairwell and crashing against the quickly mobilized defenders.

Chaos erupted once more, the defenders scattered as so living and dead alike pressed against them. Savage war cries and clashing blades sung out once more, the music of battle singing its death song as she drove herself into the fray. Sliding under one attack after another, she darted her way through, gauging numbers and driving her Elunite talons into howling undead, silver light burning fetid flesh as the goddess’ steel tormented them.

It was then she saw him, the Commander of the invading force. A Forsaken warrior bearing the shield of Lordearon, commanding his attackers to try and tear down the temple. She had her prey.

Their eyes locked and instantly he met her in first executing strike with shield in hand, with a snarl she struck again, driving her talons at him again and again. Seizing the moment where his defenses were raised to defend another attack, she grasped a vial and hurled it to the ground. Goddess blessed magic burst to life and a circle of roaring blue fire billowed around them, sealing their battle from the outside world.
“You will never take this temple, cur!” she spat, driving at him again with renewed vigor. Her blades slashed against his armor, driving silver scars across battle plate. The cruel spiked mace he bared struck at her again and again, each strike as powerful as the first, the weakness of fatigue long departed from her undead foe. Deftly she parried, sending the strikes to her side and towards the ground, talons locking around curl barbs to direct each strike away from her.

She made the mistake she had never made before, and glanced to her side to see Niamh bloodied and as Elrinde got swept into the battle and away from her safety.

The next thing she knew, the undead’s shield connected with her jaw, crashing her backwards, sending her gaze to the sky and her blades to her side.

She would never forget the pain of the forsaken’s mace as it smashed into her and shredded her gut.

Holding on with fury alone, she regained enough strength to slice her would be killer’s hand off and part him from his weapon, just in time for reinforcements to come surging up the ramp to turn the tide of battle once more.

“Fall Back!” her foe cried, Jorrick, she would learn his name to be.

Their eyes met once more, and for the briefest moment he saw his doom staring back at him.

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Later she would learn, as she collapsed to the flagstone before the temple with her life blood fleeing her, the routed Horde force grappled Elrinde, dragging her to the wilds with plans of execution before being rescued by Orithiel and the temple’s allies.

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She would spend the night by the moonwell, bandaged and numbed by tonic and healing magic, her hand entwined with her sister druid as she recovered from her own injuries. A wordless acknowledgement that they feared the other would not see the next moonrise. Her wounds were grievous, but she would live.

Two days later, the Horde returned.

With Elunite plating embedded in her armor to protect her gut, the kaldorei woman strode out ready to battle. This time the Alliance held a solid defense, barely giving an inch of ground as the invaders hammered themselves against them. The battle was furious and blood slicked the ground once more, and the Horde were pushed back step by step. The combined force of the Handmaidens of Elune, Nightblade Sentinels, Moonlight Embrace among others proving too much.

With hands and gaze turned to the heavens, Niamh made a desperate plea, calling upon the Goddess to drive back those that would despoil sacred ground. Hymns sounded out from the embattled forces, Kaldorei sharing their chants and pleads as they clashed against their foes. The Forsaken reacted in fear, watching as glistening starlight started to descend upon them and burnt their flesh. The Starlight grew into beams before the stairwell sung with holy radiance and once more, the Horde sounded the retreat for the final time.

Da’leshar’s involvement in the battle had undone the hard work the priestesses had put into her, her wounds resurfaced and her stomach filled with blood, staggering back to the moonwell she tried to hold on. Tried to keep herself composed and holding out for as long as she could, but eventually she faltered purged blood against the stonework and collapsed, finding agony in the darkness once more.

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“You have to take care of yourself,” Hedris said as he sat at the end of her bed, “No offence but you’re not as durable as me.”
Da’leshar sighed and closed her eyes, it was an argument they have had more than once, and would no doubt do so in the future.
“I have a duty brother, to protect your mate, remember?”
“That’s not all you’re here for though, is it?” Hedris replied.
“Of course not, this is my home now. I’ve
 I’ve never felt this close to Elune before, and I have you and Niamh to thank for that.”
“Nonsense, you didn’t have to come if you truly didn’t want to, but you did. And I should be thanking you for that.”
Da’leshar tried to sit up but pain flared in her gut once again, with glowing hands and mists whirling to life, he set her back into the bed and channeled his Chi, working to undo the pain that had struck her so violently.
“You, sister of blood, will rest.”
Before she could even try protest again, he brushed a hand over her face, a different energy whirling about his palm as the Acolyte found herself drifting off to a restful slumber.
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Once word came from Feathermoon that the battle was over and the Horde had taken to retreat, Da’leshar and the the other priestesses and servants of the temple breathed a collective sigh of relief. General Rhodina had been taken injured and brought to the temple, her body sunk into the moonwell as one of her own aids tended to her, Da’leshar, sitting by the well and offering prayer to aid how she could, turned her gaze to the upper chambers.
“Priestess Frostfall.” she said, the weight of what she was about to say clear in her voice.
Niamh turned to her, she herself was worse for wear, worn and exhausted and still nursing her arm after a brutal breakage.
“With your leave, I will tend to the departed and prepare them for their final journey.”
With a sad smile, the priestess bowed her head, sending her on her way after filling a vase with blessed water.

It was a task she found great honor in, one she had done more times than her heart dared recount. A task passed down to her during her time in the Silverglaive Sentinels, one she had performed for sister and brother alike, one she knew she would be prepared for herself one day.
Preserved by the goddesses light, the bodies lay upon the ground as if to sleep. Their eyes closed, or bandaged over if injuries prevented such.

She began her task.

Each body was washed, their skin cleaned of all impurities. Each wound and mark of pain, washed away and healed over with a gentle touch. War paints were reapplied as if never disturbed. With the bodies clean, she took blessed dried flowers and burnt them, casting the smoke across the body until burnt to the stems to smudge the air clear and keep the safe from foul magics.

The departed were redressed in simple silks, not too dissimilar to those worn by a child on their first communion with the goddess, their hair was prepared in a neat tidy fashion.
Da’leshar held a hand over the departed’s heart and and closed her eyes in prayer.

“Elune, bless the departed. Know their service in your name and let them know your love.”

Da’leshar bowed her head, and rested the Mooncloth bundle on her lap. With sister Rimmetrois’s help, the bodies were wrapped from head to toe, given comfort in Elune’s blessed cloth with a simple piece of jewelry, a gilded moon with a single white gem at the center laid over their heart.

“Sister, we thank you for your life, may it never be forgotten.” Val’thira said, holding her hand over heart.

With the body prepared for the journey, they moved to the next and started anew. Together, the sisters worked tirelessly, giving each body the respect and love their deserved and honoring their sacrifice. Stocily they held their emotions aside, content on not faltering in their charge. Outside the temple, the sun rose and the people came and went, some seeking refuge for body and soul by the moonwell while others ventured out to hunt, eager to not let the Horde strike any last blows unexpectedly.

With Fatigue and injuring saping her strength, Da’leshar looked to those that remained, three more were ready to receive blessings, three more to prepare for burial.
“We are almost done, sister.” Val’thira said, resting a hand on her shoulder as she read the tiredness that radiated from her.
“So many
” Da’leshar whispered, “its always so many
”, she placed a hand on Val’thira’s and forced on a smile. “Come, we must not keep them waiting.”

Da’leshar got to her feet and walked over to the side of the next departed, a Druidess of ancient age, the knife wounds in her chest glaring with the violence that had found her. Slowly she started preparing the body, removing the ruined armor to start cleaning the body, only to freeze as she saw the face before her.

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Silence rung out between the three of them, Val’thira looking on with concern for the acolyte.
“Sister Mistoak?” she said, her voice hushed like a whisper.

Da’leshar simply looked down at the woman, knowing her, remembering the brief time she had spent in the sisterhood. Since the process had begun, each body had been a friend in passing, a traveler only glimpsed if seen at all, now she saw the face of Teliste. One of the Handmaidens of Elune, and she broke.

Ragged tears roll down her cheeks as she scooped the woman up and held her close to her chest, her shoulders sook as the memory of every friend and loved one she had buried came roaring to the surface. Sobs burst from her and she shuddered. Val’thira quickly moved in, embracing them both and speaking comforting words, trying her best to ease the soul. Da’leshar had been beaten, shattered and burnt, her body was wounded and her soul was aching.

She was doing her best to stand tall, but the barriers had shattered and she could hold back no longer.

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It is a shame I couldn’t be at the ceremony last night. However, I hope another one is hosted so I may be there. Thank-you for having all of us along. It was certainly fun.

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There will absolutely be more Eluning in the future, watch this space!

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I am truly enjoying being part of this guild. Both ic and ooc a group of fantastic people! If you enjoy rping a priestess or devote your character to Elune, this is the place to be. What I also love is that the guild is less focused on constant war events, which is currently dominant in Kaldorei roleplay.

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Getting to hang out with the fantastic and wonderful Hedris Mistoak is also a plus, right?

And yay 100th post \o/

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