[Belf-RP] Thalassian Skyguard 🐲

[Talirei-argent-dawn]

Thank you Skyguard for being amazing these past couple of days, we had great fun interacting with you all!

[Devontae-argent-dawn]

The army of Quel’thalas. Beautiful red and gold banners alighted every spot in the sea of colours with the tinges of the Farstrider green. Grandeur that astounded the eye. The air smelled of arcane mingled with the sweat from the heavy plated armour covering the mounted Blood knights. The cavalry set off to guard the pass with heads held high in pride as their heavily armoured horses sniffed miserably. Strange such a beautiful sight would soon cause so much chaos.

The Quel’dorei defences consisted of arcane weavers working on a joined casting, a front line of plate wearers and shield bearers with their menders and rangers interwoven through the opening in the blackened woods. Interlopers and back stabbers seeking the opportunity to cling to a past through rose hued glasses, unaware of their presence causing so much turmoil.

The Sin’dorei army moved as one, a sea of crimson, as if there were just one brain instead of many. With each step the sound of the boots on the cold cobbles was like the warning thunder of a coming storm. Slung about their shoulders were cold iron weapons, from axes to blades, all glinting like a Cheshire grin in the moon. Each face was grim against the moons light and in every heart was the desire to cut the infestation out of their homeland. They did not forget and they did not forgive.

De’vontae had been given the word from a Ren’dorei begging sanction as an informant and they had believed him when he said he would let them live. Foolish. When it comes to the fight there’s no honour, no code. All that matters is the win and he intended to take nothing for granted. The Division Twenty Three would have the exits covered, there’d be nowhere to run. De’vontae would offer the Ren’dorei informant peace first, a chance to escape - unable to not trust him. Then the first blow would come, a single slash of his blade to their legs to bring them down and make running painful. Then the negotiation restarts as he grips their neck and squeezes. Perhaps it isn’t a fair fight, but isn’t that a strange concept? De’vontae always leaned toward short and brutal to curb the fatalities, maximize the fear and thus the high homes power base. After all, what’s the point of winning if they just return again, having learned nothing.

The Skyguard mounted upon their Dragonhawks and followed out through the cool, crisp air of the blackened woods. Their base of operations. They stalked the heads of the Sanguine Eye, watching their powerful silhouettes marching to the unsuspecting enemy. This was the first time they worked together and yet the Overseer and the Knight Lord together showed great skills and foresight in their estimation of the situation. Their plan was simple, sweep the Skyguard in and flank them. Force their hand and energies to defend against their powerful flames and then sweep back to join the rear guard of the Sanguine Eye in time to press the attack. Then, when the signal was given the Division would charge their cavalry in and end them. There’d be no escape this time.

The first part of their plan worked without issue. The screams of pain and fear from the Quel’dorei were like some horror films music, piercing and shrill as they tried to pepper the Skyguard with their arrows.

“Pull back around and join the Sanguine Eye!”
“Roger that Captain!”
“Cantrip, Wolvar, Sunny, see to the rangers on the wall.”
“Understood.”

De’vontae leapt from Skylark’s saddle, removing his harness and ran back around to join the melee lines of the Sanguine Eye just before their charge. In that frozen second between stand off and fighting he saw their eyes flick from him to their own. The Sin’dorei’s faces were unreadable, no fear, no invitational smirk.

In that instant the two forces flew at each other. The Quel’dorei no doubt expect it to be five on one, over in a bloody flash and then they go back to their quarry. But things don’t go their way, not at all. The grass stains darkly with the flow from the two sides. De’vontae notices the large elf from the night before, the one he and his Skyguard had attacked during their patrol. He knew not that is name was Fingol Manabrook, he just knew him as that loggerhead with the shield and the odd habit of discharging more arcane than bodily fluids.

Their swords gleamed in the cool moon light. De’vontae knew that only one would walk away from this. His opponent charged with a mighty cry. De’vontae dodged to the side in one fluid move. His enemy swivelled in his direction. His menacing eyes were a blazing blue and his dark helm made the rest of his features indistinguishable. His opponent thrust his sword forward, only to be met by De’vontae’s sword with a resounding ‘clang’. But he had not expected the sudden woosh of air to escape his lungs as he took the shield to his stomach that sent him reeling back with a blast of arcane. The man was a master fighter - De’vontae was a master opportunist. Slowly, De’vontae however was tiring. ‘If I am to die, I shall fight to the last breath.’ With renewed vigour, he grabbed a yellow and blue tipped arrow from his hip quiver and charged back in, putting everything he had into that one attack…

It hit, tethered on with a fragment of snared cloth and De’vontae paid for it once more taking point blank another slam of arcane to his chest along with the iron shield. Groaning De’vontae hauled himself up spitting out grass and pulled back, careful to avoid the fight of I’len on his left and the Overseer on his right. He then set to cast arcane fire, sending it straight to the arrow … BOOM! The Quel’dorei was on the ground blood spitting like a fountain from his wound.

De’vontae charged back in capitalising on this success, trying to slash at the elf as he desperately parried what he could. Then came the second wind. Always the bloody second wind! Fingol roared and pushed himself up and onto De’vontae hitting him back and trying to stab at him. De’vontae grabbed at plate, then flesh trying to get the rampaging man off of him, his fanged teeth finding a hold on Fingol’s ear and chomping down until the copper tang of blood filled his mouth.

The Captain would have lost his hand then had it not been for Erinyr’s quick thinking with her heals and her sharp eyes. The Captain disengaged from Fingol, leaving his bloodied body bleeding hard on the ground and turned to see the fight falling on their side… and then the cavalry came.

“RUN!”
“Pull back! The Division are here!”
“The wh-… THEY’VE GOT HORSES!”
De’vontae spat blood and yelled into his communicator, ordering his men back out of the fight. Then he saw them… the Ren’dorei… trying to run in the confusion of the battle. “Felreaver, Cantrip, Isabrae bring down that shield.”
“Where are you going Captain?”
“Sunny with me. We’re going hunting…”

Thank you so much to the following guilds for making such an amazing and action packed event and inviting us along to come play a part. I would strongly recommend anyone looking to get in good contacts on the horde and alliance to check out each of the guilds below.

Azure Dawn (Alliance)
The Sanguine Eye (Horde)
Division Twenty Three (Horde)

[Devontae-argent-dawn]

The Skyguard are officially hitting a stride in having the busiest few months we’ve ever seen, with constant collaboration events from Azure Dawn & The Starcused fighting epic battles against each other, to surging alongside the Ashen Bulwark guilds, to training in the woods with the Gilded Blades.

It’s certainly not planning on dying down anytime soon! If you fancy coming along with us or wanting to work with us come drop us a line! We are always interested

[Devontae-argent-dawn]

We have taken to the Eastern Plaguelands where a new type of infestation riddles the disease mottled land. This is not the scourge, though this type of army retains its unsightly and unwanted similarities. It is in fact the Quel’dorei of the Azure Dawn and the Ren’dorei of the Starcursed. Once more we take to the front of battle, this time joined alongside by the Blood Ravens, House Ilvanesta and the Crimson Vanguard, together fighting side by side against a common foe. Having left the silvered city with the heavy duty training by the Division Twenty Three, the Skyguard are committed to finally cleansing this plague.

[Coldsháde-argent-dawn (Coldsháde)]

@Devontae-argent-dawn

the Skyguard are committed to finally cleansing this plague.

Good luck, Skyguards!!!

[Devontae-argent-dawn]

And so it was that we returned to the High Home under a turbulent feeling, for the forces of Quel’thalas had managed to retake the land closest to the borders of their people from the clutches of the traitorous cousins. But thanks to the infestation of troubling trolls, the Sin’dorei were forced to cut their losses in being able to push the Ren’dorei and Quel’dorei out of the Eastern plaguelands fully.

Now, returned and invigorated it is just a matter of time until their next family reunion. But with their efforts, the spire recognised the soldiers and an awards ceremony took place this evening, giving special thanks to certain achievements as well as marking the battle as ‘The Battle of True Blood.’

The Tear of Elrendar award
This medal is carved from the pearls found in the bottom of Elrendar’s river, this iridescent stone reflecting the colours of pale pinks, azure blues and swimming silvers like fish scales, has been shaped into a teardrop. Below it sits a tastefully placed banner reading ‘Tear of Elrendar’. This award is given to the highest recommendation by the armed forces who served in the Battle of True Blood. Below is the list of commendations.

Serving from the Blood Ravens

• Illiniel Whitemoon
• Aladria Goldenstrider
• Ellynia Rivermist

Serving from the Remnants of House Ilvanesta

• Roandil Valeshine
• Ithedris Everguard
• Lady Naiya Ilvanesta
• Raelfas Surion

Serving from the Crimson Vanguard

• Loten Dayvale - Dayvale also received a unique commendation from the Spire for his impressive leadership skills during the final battle in Eastern Plaguelands known as ‘The Star Fall’ award.
• Cyrach A’neid
• Anistia Volasias

Serving from the Thalassian Skyguard

• De’vontae Autumnvale
• Ranthos Firescar
• Noviah Linel
• Florian Lebail
• Telahn Litlauss

Every Soldier who served in the battle of True Blood received a medal of service called the Phoenix Sun medal. This was seen to be awarded in green for menders, crimson for the melee and gold for the ranged support. Each are forged from the veins of the High Home, copper reimagined with the dust of various dyes and inks to change its hue into an intricate blazing phoenix’s profile, wings raised to look like they are the sun. Upon the back of it is the inscription in Thalassian ‘In service of her high home, we bled upon the battle of true blood.’

Follow this link to see screen shots from this event organised by Salrathin of the Star Cursed and brought to fruition under the help of those who attended.

[Devontae-argent-dawn]

The Thalassian Skyguard’s AA page has received a much needed face lift and finally is starting to look like something we’re proud of! Please do check it out! https://www.argentarchives.org/node/231715

[Feliciáa-argent-dawn]

Felicia would follow the path up that mountain, she had walked this path many times when she was younger. She knew this memory all too well and she know that she would relive it for many more nights after this one.

A top the mountain path hidden away from anyone to see would be a house, the building looks grand and well looked after there would be sounds of a small group training and others of people drinking a chatting together these people do not see her. She remembers them all, their names and how they fight, for a long time she called them family. Following one of the many halls of this large place it would lead to a room away from everything else. Normally this end of the house was calm and quiet but now is filled with screams of pain.

Entering the room that she knows all too well, the large window on a wall nearest the door would be letting in the moon light stronger than the candles that fill the room. The screaming continued as filling the room, she watches two women rushing around to get that they needed. Felicia walks to the edge of the screen that covers her view of who the screaming comes from, as she stands to the side, she can see herself laying on the bed with her legs bent. She knows she was much younger then and her body looked different from what it does now, no scars.

Leaning against the wall she would just watch, not that there was anything she could do even if she was able to help, she just had to watch the memory play out. Looking the woman that kneeled by the side of her old bed next to her younger self holding her hand trying to give words of encouragement.

As Felicia watches, she couldnt hear the words being spoken just the screams from her younger self. She hated and loved this memory all for very different reasons. She saw one of the other women join herself and her friend that she many years ago called sister, this woman looked like an older version of her friend, she was the person she classed as her mother was the closest thing she had in the times at this place in this part of her life.

Felicia looks you her younger self and sees the pain in her face as she started to push, all because she was told to, this part of her memory felt like it went on days even though to her now it was just a though minutes. The screaming would stop and be replaces by the cries on a baby. Her mother figure wraps the small child up in a towel she had gotten and goes to place them in her younger self’s arms.

“It’s a boy.” Those where the first words she heard this whole time. Felicia moves closer to look down at her son in her younger arms. The look of joy her younger face as she smiles as the baby. She can’t help but smile herself, it soon fades as she sees the look of sadness fall on her younger face and looks to her mother and sister figure.
“You have to take him now before he gets here and kills us all to get to him. Take the bags each by the door and follow the papers inside. They will tell you were to go and who to trust. I know you will keep him safe but I can’t know where you are going.” Even though she could see the pain in her young eyes her voice sounded strong.

The two women look to each other and went to collect the bags they were told to give her younger self a though more minutes with her son.

“You already look like him, and I know that you will do great things like he did. I am sorry our time is short together but know that I love you with all of my heart. I know you will be safe and loved with these people, and you will be amazing. I will find you, one day when I know it is safe.” Felicia watched as the tears started to form in her younger eyes, her friend comes back as her mother waits at the door. “I love you my little wolf.” Her younger self kiss the top of her son’s head before passing him to her trusted friend. Give her a weak smiles she watches as they leave and then turns to see her younger self cry. She watched for hours it seems before hearing a male voice shout her name, the look of terror not just on her old face but on her now one too. She hated this man and didn’t want to see him trying to will herself to wake up so she doesn’t have to see this part. There was a loud bang on the door and more shouting, then it slams open before going to black.

---

Felicia wakes up with a start, feeling sweat on her forehead and gasping for breath. She looks around to see she was in the bedroom of her apartment and then bring her legs up to hug them. She hated she relived her memories in her sleep and that one was just one of the worst. Getting up she decides she doesn’t want to try and sleep again tonight.
As she enters the living room she notices it’s still dark outside and sighs, she walks to her desk and sits down at it. Looking at the drawing she has on a frame on top of it she would run a hand over the front. This image was of her from before and a men. They were smiling at each other and she as holding a rose in one hand.
“I will find him, one day Lucas. I will find our son even if it’s just to know he is ok.” She so he again and looks at the letters on her desk. Time to get back to work before going out to train and putting on smile.

She didn’t know how to tell the others what she was doing, one day maybe, unroll then she does the one thing she knows she can do. Fight. Fight for her future, fight for her friends and family so they never go through the pain she has had too. She won’t let things hurt them if she can help it. She will take the pain for them willingly. This was her life and they were her family, and she was damn well going to protect them.

[Syléstra-argent-dawn]

Isolated, treacherous, alone. These have been the past few weeks of Firefury’s life as she navigates her way down south away from the borders of Quel’thalas. Through the used lands of the savages and hostile wildlife, the agent moves in secret to seek out information that had led to her exile.

Passing undetected through alliance and horde camps alike, sustained by hunting and petty theft, Firefury has to ensure her presence in any area remained unknown. The watchful eyes of her estate and the kingdom that hunts her down in every waking moment, do not miss the subtle.

Few close calls see Firefury finally arriving in the dark and foreboding lands of Duskwood. Days and days of constant travel by foot to reach the southern parts of the continent sees her investigating through different areas of the land. Treachery and villainy face her as she sneaks through the dark.

Her time is then limited when a mistake leads to her being spotted from the distance by a patrolman of Duskwood. All sorts of shady folk roam these lands, but none typically resembling the appearance of a blood elf. This seems to sound alarms, forcing her to move more carefully to evade detection. Word being spread about her sighting.

Days of searching, gathering scribbles and documents, and assassinating those who possess them lead her to rest quietly in the dark, lost in her thoughts. Evidence… proving she is not guilty of the crime of high treason. Her eyes flitter through the pages, scribbles and notes. She frowns at what she reads and what it would mean for the Kingdom.

There is a faint rustling and a flash of silver. Two wrist-mounted blades pierce her side as a shrouded figure lunges from the dark. How did they sneak up?.. Urgency immediately fills the agent as she draws her blades to fight back. But overwhelming horror fills her as she looks into the face of her attacker.

Frozen, stunned, even for the smallest of fractions of a second gets exploited by her skilled opponent, lunging forward. A sharp warmth washes over her. Hot blood spurts over her hands and down her front as she grips the extensive wound on the side of her neck. She collapses to her knees, her head feeling light. The blood doesn’t stop, and her vision starts blurring. Firefury perceives the faintest sounds of feet beating against the bloodied ground around her before she collapses to the floor, the abysmal darkness seizing her…

[Tyrenas-argent-dawn (Tyrenas)]

As the Frostwyrm falls the rush of battle fades from Tyrenas’s body, his vision blurs and then nothingness. As time passes, he wakes up but not where he expected. The room he is in is pure white with no walls and no end to it. ‘ Is this finally it? ’ He thought to himself. Before he could accept that his luck may have run out at long last a figure in appears.

“No, it has not.” It spoke.

The Farstrider clambered to his feet and began to approach the person before him. They were adorned in white gold armour, with phoenix figureheads adorning the shoulderpads and the symbol of the Silver Hand embroidered onto the cloak that draped down him. It was then that Tyrenas realised who this was. “Father…” He whispered. No more steps were taken, he was stunned by the idea of his father visiting him on his deathbed from beyond. Garion Lightseeker stood before him.

“I always knew you were reckless but as to throw yourself at a dragon like that? What were you thinking? I never raised an idiot of a son.” The vision spoke and the words continued to come, a barrage of judgement towards Lightseeker. Tears forming in his eye but not because of the words, but because the man he looked up to, the man he had lost over a decade ago once again stood before him. He rushed over and embraced him with now a smile on his face.

“Father… I’ve missed you. So much… has happened… You’ve a grandson… I’ve managed to wield the Light…” He stopped and paused though, burying himself into his father’s chest like a child. “But… I’ve done so much evil… please… I had no idea what I was doing…” He sobbed for a moment, staining the cloth over the paladin’s chest with his tears.

His father looked down at him, his arms moving around to embrace him further. He sighed before giving Tyrenas a smile. “My son, you were always destined for greatness. I could see it in your eyes when you were young. But it is not found in acts of bravery or stupid heroics like what you just performed.” Garion brought his hand up to gently run through Tyrenas’s hair.

It was at this moment, Tyrenas realised that he had taken on a much younger appearance of himself. No older than twelve years of age. It seemed fitting with how he was being held. How he wanted to feel in his father’s arms. He looked up to the grizzled featured man now as if he was reliving his childhood.

“I-… I didn’t know what to do, I had to do something to cause the beast problems. I won’t allow anything to harm my family, even it means my death.” A stern look on his face as he spoke to his father, who listened for now. “I have wronged so, so, so many lives. Taken men from their families and for what? Nothing… During my… soulless excursion… I took lives only to feed a husk… I did nothing… So powerless within…” the boy clenches his fist, holding back from crying any further.

Garion kneels down and looks his son in the eyes as he moves his hand to wipe away the coming tears. He places a hand on his shoulder gently gripping at it. “We all live with regrets, Tyrenas. It is something we must learn from. For without those we cannot forge ourselves into the better people we wish to be.” He stands up, turning to a small table, set up with tea cups and a pot. Tyrenas was now once again older, but still younger than as he is in reality. Both now on their feet move over to the table as Garion continues to speak.

“You were always the odd one of your siblings. Trying to be different always getting yourself into trouble, be it with the guards or the noble women you tried to court…” His father gives him a slightly displeased look as they now take their seats at the table. “But in troubled times you would be there to aid your family. When your younger sister fell from the tree outside the estate, you did not leave her side. Instead, you managed to put her arm in a makeshift splint to help relieve any problems before healers turned up to help.”

Tyrenas looks down with a glum look on his face as his father speaks. The sound of moving sliding saucer can be heard as a freshly brew cup appears in his vision with his father’s fingers pushing it towards him.

“You have the ability to think rationally when faced with danger. Then why didn’t you do it now?”

The age of Tyrenas’ face changes once more now to his present look. He looks around the whiteness that envelopes them both and sighs with a shake of the head. “I don’t know. For the past year, I’ve had nightmare upon nightmare. Now the Scourge returns to our lands and the idea of my fellow Skyguard being taken by them… I… I don’t want to see more taken by undeath… I will do anything to stop that. Even if it means certain death.”

Garion huffs, rolling his eyes “You are worth more to them alive than dead, Ty my boy.”

Tyrenas blinks, looking up as he hears the name he rarely hears. He smiles up at his father once more with a small chuckle. “I’m sorry, father, life the last decade has been rough… turbulent… I wish to amend all the broken things I’ve made. At times, I want to give up.”

His father sips from his tea as he leans back in his chair. “And to do so in a spectacular way?” He raises his left eyebrow at Tyrenas.

“I’ve always been one for the dramatics, pa.”

Garion smirks, placing his tea back down. “Like courting several women at once and all of them finding out together? Yes, you have always had a dramatic flair. You don’t get it from my side, that’s for sure.”

As time goes on, they reminisce of the past and Tyrenas catches his father up on what has happened to him since their death. An odd moment but one he seems to not miss the opportunity to explore, even if it is just a delusion within his broken mind.

[Devontae-argent-dawn]

The Thalassian Skyguards AA page is finally ready to be shared and unveiled to the public after undergoing some major transforming surgery. I’d like to thank Irielle for her time and effort she put into helping me obtain some beautiful art work for the guild. All of our art work, as well as our lore and information has been re-linked back to those who helped make it.

So without further beating of the bushes, please check out, our AA page!

https://www.argentarchives.org/node/231715

[anon44598798]

The new AA pages look beautiful, a big thank you to our awesome GM for undertaking that rewrite and indeed to our guild officer team for making this guild such a strong and dynamic community.

Great work guys, keep it up! I certainly would recommend Skyguard for any aspiring fliers out there!

[Devontae-argent-dawn]

The Thalassian Skyguard are on a two week vacation from events to enjoy Shadowlands. Having left off the expansion of BFA with the ominous look into the villain known as ‘Raptor’, the Skyguard return to the high home to prepare for their next deployment and with heavy hearts. Having witnessed the fearsome truth about the slave trade and being unable to cure the fetid disease that is the underhanded work of slavers, they now wrestle with the aftermath of what they witnessed.

We will return for events on the 7th of December where we look forward to engaging in a small scale event series with the Blazing Phoenix, Spire Division Zero, Blood Ravens and the Crimson Vanguard! See you in the shadowlands my friends!

[Devontae-argent-dawn]

The Thalassian Skyguard are returning to our scheduled event programming and will be beginning our mini-event series in the company of these wonderful allies of ours listed below! More details to come soon for each day, but no spoilers! Needless to say much planning has gone into this and we’re really excited to share this story with some of Argent Dawns best RP guilds.

• Blood Ravens
• Crimson Vanguard
• Squad Zero
• Blazing Phoenix

[Devontae-argent-dawn]

The End of Mistbrook and the beginning of a new chapter

On the 7th of December 2020, the Thalassian Skyguard set about to make an event series with a select group of Sin’dorei based guilds to help mark the end of a chapter and the beginning of 2021 for the Skyguard. We invited the Blazing Phoenix, Crimson Vanguard, Blood Ravens and Squad Zero - guilds who we have worked with a hand full of times before and wanted nothing more than to share this moment with. Over five events we painted a grim picture of undead attacking and cultists with a vengeance.

Each unit arrived and together helped us fight back against this enemy to bring back prosperity to the High Home. In doing so we lost the Thalassian Skyguards Base in the Blackened Woods known as Mistbrook. Destroyed in fires and the wake of the waging battle, the Skyguard lost their handler and volunteer Val’maxian, their albino Dragonhawk Peacebloom and their Eclipsion cross red Braithe. But it was their sacrifices that paved the way for the units to hit the skies on Lady’s Luck II to find the cultists and defeat them for good.

So now what is in store for the Skyguard and where can you find us you might be wondering? Ending 2020, we will be in Silvermoon licking our wounds and mourning our dead. But know that the Skyguard are not out of the game and that come 2021, we will be seeing a new base, a new location, a new rank in our hierarchy and much much more.

I don’t wish to spoil too much, so instead I shall leave you with the below links to everything we used for the event series with screenshots taken (Mostly by nae of squad Zero - thank you!) and the video of Gideon Emery voice acting Lor’themar to appear as our engineered beacon. (Small print: This was not used as Lor’themar himself in game nor intended otherwise to be the big man himself.)

Thank you to each guild that came and spent their time with us and making this a commemorative moment. The Thalassian Skyguard would not be who they were today without the community of Argent Dawn.

Merry Christmas, and a happy end to 2020.

Lorthemar Emergency Aid

[Album] The Beginning of the End - An Argent Dawn Adventure

[Album] 13-12-2020. Special thanks to Skyguard. You guys are AMAZING!

[Album] 13-12-2020 ALL IN 1!

[Album] 7-12-2020 Thalassian Army vs Undead scum. Skyguard edition!

[Dâhlia-argent-dawn]

I don’t often visit the forum - not since we got the “new” ones at the very least. It was a pleasure as always, Dev-hun. Nothing new as you said; this isn’t the first time and this isn’t the first time we’ve had great times together. Thanks for all the guilds that participated for enriching our experience as always! You guys rock.

[Ranthos-argent-dawn]

Brighter than His Scales

The waves lapped and crashed at the shoreline of Eversong, under a clear moon that bathed the glimmering water and peaceful land in a twilight haze. Fine sand, rumoured to hold hidden gemstones for the keen eyed, gave way to clipped grass and wildflowers, before plunging into the depths of the forest itself. At the point where the beach meets the grass, a hillock rises up, proudly standing watch on whatever may pass. Upon the hillock rests two figures, beside each other in a comfortable heap. The Elf of them rests against the coiled and serpentine form of the Dragonhawk, whose head rests at his side, drinking in the moonlight. Her wings lay folded behind her, almost as a shelter over her and her rider, absorbing the light to paint the grass behind her in the pastel blue and green pattern of the Norhrend Aurora that was her namesake. Elf and Dragonhawk held their gaze on the horizon, neither saying a word, nor disrupting the quiet of the night.

They were, however, in conversation. The bond they held abuzz as they shared with one another the strife of the last few days. Images, thoughts & emotions passed into that shared consciousness between them as they clung together, finding comfort in the presence of the other as the events washed through them. First came the Undead swarm, Ranthos’ rising panic as he communicated with a furious Alpha on the ground. Then came Australs alarm as the swarm scaled their cliffs and lay siege to the Rookery, the arcane displacement of the teleport followed, with concern from Ranthos shifting to the sudden disappearance of Cantrip. Hope came next, as their allies arrived with perfect timing, making plans to retake their home. Images of the battle with the Undead swam through their shared minds, the glow of an arrow as its trajectory was taken and pushed into the path of a shambling Abomination. Then the flight through the Rookery, as the panicked Dragonhawks were finally freed. Austral poured images and emotions of her battle in the sky. Of how endless gargoyles had tried to banish them forever from their roost. Of the panic that welled up from her as she spotted a small swarm of them harass her clutch. Of how she became a furious specter of fire and talons as she assailed her foes and tore at their mocking wings, plunging her enemies into the blackened depths of the sea. They lay still, beside each other as Ranthos re-lived and shared the horror of watching Peacebloom, that noble soul, be struck down by foul magic and of how something sinister had turned his beautiful shell into a weapon. Austral felt the misericorde in Ranthos’ hands, could hear the begging in his voice, as Peacebloom was freed from his dark fate, never to rise again. Ranthos heard the mourning cry from Austral’s beak as she felt the Albino’s passing. The Rookery had been saved, but the heart of it had been ripped out.

Then came the return to Mistbrook and the grim sight of the Draconic monstrosity. Pride and fear melded together as they both saw Baylor, the bully, the one they didn’t allow the Cadets near on account of his aggressive nature, prove his claimed place of protector trying to fell that wretched husk. Their duel had been frantic, too chaotic even with magic at his side for Ranthos to intervene. A kindling of renewed hope struck them again at the sight of Val’maxian riding Braithe, the wind streaming through his hair as the sibling Dragonhawks fought side by side to protect their home. A hope that was crushed in the jaws of the monstrosity and departed with Braithe’s limp form, and crushed again with a snap as the mad prophet so coldly and so cruelly took their Val’maxian from them.

Peacebloom, Braithe, and Val’maxian had been avenged. The cowards responsible for their deaths slain. Justice had been served, vengeance had been claimed. A reckoning had been had between an Elf and Dragonhawk who had raged in their grief and helped to banish their enemies from the mortal coil. All of this passed through them, as they let themselves feel the grief, the loss, the fear, and accepted it. The emotions that would have lashed and boiled like a storm, capsized them and sent them into dark depths, instead calmed, like the sea before them in their mental embrace, neither letting go. Instead, they acknowledged their shared grief and finally turned to the array of wood, hammers, chisels, and knives in front of them.
They had spoken at length on how best to remember their fallen. Finally the thought had crossed them and they agreed that it felt right.

Of Val’maxian, the offering had been quite simple, if a little unorthodox. A gnarled oak branch sat heavily before the two. Knotted and snarled, it was a piece that a craftsman would only ever take a knife to in order to show off his skill. If the piece they were going to make was going to be a bow, they might have thought twice about the scattering of knots that the branch held, but Ranthos knew that sometimes, if made right, the faults or supposed deformities could make it tougher. And so the Spellbow, with a practiced hand, picked up the whittling knife, and got to work. As ever, he pictured what he wanted in his mind, and let his hands do the rest. Austral provided assistance, her greater eyesight allowing her to see things that had been missed by the young Elf, or sharing an image or expression that provided a new approach on how to best go about the carving. It was painstakingly slow work, as individual scales were impressed onto the underbelly of the hard wood. The carapace was easier, taking smoother and broader strokes of the knife, but once again Austral provided a greater knowledge of the curves of the chitin, knowing from memory how the light would reflect off it. The head proved difficult, as the detail required became harder to carve into the stubborn oak, but they persevered, eventually providing the visage that, perhaps not so Val’maxians way, spoke of vulnerability and an open embrace. Last came the wings, here the two, sharing one mind, took almost as long as the rest put together to cut the wood thin enough to be able to catch a gust or breeze, but similarly thick enough to not simply be ripped and torn by it. Finally, after hours of work, the carving, about the length from the tip of a middle finger to an elbow, was finished, the physical work complete. The Dragonhawk they had made to represent Val’maxian was gnarled in knots, made of a wood that nobody should make a carving from, and yet it would endure the test of time.

Of Braithe, Spellbow and Eclipsion synced to weave an enchantment upon the carving. Austral had thought of its purpose, and Ranthos could only agree. She shared images of the beautiful sister of Baylor following the arcanists and mages of the Unit, even a few times when she had stalked Ranthos & he hadn’t noticed. To that end, they worked into the spell an attraction to sources of magic, the Sanctums of Eversong would provide the mana needed to keep the enchant active, and ensure that the carving remained in flight. The carving would spend its days chasing after magic, from Sanctum to Sanctum, or bothering the occassional Magister from over their shoulder. Fitting, the duo felt, for the remembrance of the lost Dragonhawk.

Of Peacebloom, they had prepared a paste. Neither Ranthos nor Austral had expertise in the preparation of such, but, taking the white bark and sap from one of Eversong’s boughs, and the petals of the Dragonhawks namesake, they had made something they could work with. Crushing the bark and petals into a pestle and mortar, they drew out the clear white colour that both ingredients held. The sap held very little colour of its own, and combining the three transformed them into a sticky paste that would harden over whatever they applied it to. So, with careful precision and a light touch, the paste was applied to the carving. A light coat was all that was needed and it didn’t take long for the solution to harden, marking the carving as an albino.

Next were the eyes, these proved tricky, Ranthos was a whittler, not a stonemason, so it took a long time until the pink stones they had found on the beach were of the right size and shape to fit into the gap that the Elf had left in the carvings eye slots. The paste was used again to bind it all together and finally, there was one step left.

Spellbow and Eclipsion drew mana from one another and fed it into the carving, a thin, arcane blue ray linking Dragonhawk to Elf, and Elf to fashioned wood. Soon enough the previously unmoving carving shifted, as if the material that held it together was not hard wood but was something serpentine and flexible. White wings spread out, angling behind it to catch the breeze from the sea. Steadily it rose as they flexed to push air beneath them and carry them upwards. The albino carving took one look at the pair before turning its head, and flying off towards the rest of Eversong. Val’maxian, Braithe, and Peacebloom, had begun their final flight.
One that would last an eternity.

[Devontae-argent-dawn]

The Thalassian Skyguards Winter event for 2020 script

‘Twas the night before Winter’s Veil when all through Fairbreezes tavern lodge,
Not an elf was stirring, not even Tayara’s fan entourage,

Twenty-four old socks were hung on the foot of each tavern rooms hammock,
Ranthos only had one, which caused friction with Austral and Mistsettlers dynamic,

The Skyguard were passed out with empty bottles on their borrowed beds,
Whilst visions of Mal’thadian in a skin tight suit plagued their heads,

Telahn, Tyrenas, Dewdrop and Leynwa fist bump,
Because the Skyguard are being forced to play adventurer dress up!

Costumes at the ready they unite with a cheer,
Keeping two meters apart to stop the villain “2020 the year!”

Gaxxius and Mal fight to lead the team,
Across the frozen fields where they argue and scream,

But Valory and Sunny had no such intention,
To let two men lead them on this Winter’s occasion,

Then from the distance the heroes did chatter,
Pointing and gesturing to a great adventuring matter,

Piles of presents scattered high and wide,
Leaving poor Ranthos a flumix about what’s hidden inside,

But before they could answer and start with a plan,
The snow did turn and reveal a snow man!

“What ho there dear children, I’m Frosty you see!
And great father winters entrusted these to me!

Protect them my cool and chill friend,
From adventurers and thieves who will meet a swift end”

“Father winters a cool guy, so I agreed there and then,
Don’t worry old jolly, I’ll make sure no one takes your presents again,

So what will it be my adventuring party?
Will you fight your friend Frosty or move along smartly?”

Weapons clash and spells go pop whizz and flash!
Frosty the jolly Snowman follows the Conga line dash,

Felicia argues with I’len over who did the best shadow,
Whilst Velindria and Aravae prepare a wheelbarrow,

In go the presents all coloured in paper,
Whilst a select few gifts are given to some players.

Now armed with the Seal of Approval the heroes advance with a clatter,
Together they’d handle this whole 2020 matter.

To their left fires burned across global warmed land,
Whilst De’vontae, I’len and Ranthos start the Skyguard band,

Away they kept walking to the tower with their stash,
Ignoring Lord Trumpet’s yells “Global warmings a scam! Remember to use re-hash”

The allure of the fires seems a distant memory as you head through the snow,
Because now it’s february and Covid is here ho-ho-ho.

Festive masks appear upon your faces and gloves on your hands,
Noviahs stolen all the toilet paper and Silvermoon’s gone into lock down,

“You better not be hungry” chastises Ashleaf,
“Cause the shops are all empty and the stock markets a grief”

With the Sergeants warning proclaimed,
The Skyguard did reach the foot of the tower ‘2020’ t’was it named,

When from the entrance comes a bittersweet chocolatey stampede,
They were Paindeer, not reindeer, for the adventurers to intercede!

With a lively kick from the melee and projectile from the ranged,
The heroes invoke the laws of equivalent exchange.

Meanwhile a miniature Paindeer with a nose that shines red,
Agrees to take you up the tower , what else could he do, all of his friends are now dead!

With a dashing charge the heroes take the portal away,
Running from Blizzard writers who insist on ruining BFA,

“Wait come back player base, we’re just a small indie company, “
“Cadet, Hawkrider, Skyguard, Sergeant! Wait, anybody!”

“We swear we are listening, we’re even releasing mobile DOTA!”
“If that doesn’t stop you, what about going to the maw to save Jaina?”

As quickly as Stormwind votes against Trumpet,
The Skyguard do climb to the towers top summit,

When much to their surprise they follow a trail of cookie crumbs,
Into a room of Winters treats and with a riddle as big as your thumb.

“Two among your number are just plain tasty treats,
But three of us will mess you up, and knock you off your feet.

Choose unless you wish to wait here forevermore,
To help you in this choice we give you these clues four,

One. However slyly the bad ones try to hide,
You can always find one sitting on a plain cookies left side,

Two, there’s a difference in in those stood at either end,
But when you’re seeking to move forward, neither is your friend.

Three. As you see clearly there’s a difference in shapes and sizes,
But neither stars or moon are filled with bad surprises,

Finally, the second on the left and the second on the right,
Are twins when you taste them, but different at first sight.”

To the Grotto of 2020 the Skyguard proceed,
With their wheelbarrow of toys, good will and Rudolph the red nosed steed,

Kill it with kindness, that was how the story would go,
They’d clap for the nurses and doctors and give 2020 a show.

The votes had been counted, the ballets were in,
We’re done with 2020, it’s time for 2021 to begin.

“My tyranny is not over!” A shot came from on high,
You knew who it was quickly traversing the sky.

The year 2020 with some more of its tricks,
More rapid than Covid and arguably more of a prick,

He was dressed all in fake news, from his head to his foot,
His clothes were all tarnished with forest fire ash and soot.

He eyes your bundle of toys spilling out from their sacks,
He looks like a swindler with a knife and a litany of corrupt facts.

How his burning eyes they flared, his face how bare!
He wore no mask and he coughed everywhere,

“I’m exempt from mask wearing and from the year changing!”
His droll little mouth was marked with amazon advertisement staining.

And his beard of his chin was made from a Quexit proposition,
Between his teeth is a stump of a NHS funding petition,

He has a fat face and a podgy big belly,
That shook when he sneered, like the cataclysm only twice as deadly!

He was chubby and glum, and a right dour old year,
“Jingle bells this!” Roared Mal’thadian “You mess with my family, you get the bear!”

And so our heroes did charge with their weapons all raised,
Ten months stuck in Quarantine - these elves were crazed!

The year 2020 was defeated and the elves had survived,
But confusion and uncertainty was all they felt inside,

What is 2021 like? Will she be nice? Will she let us outside?
Will the vaccine start working, will the riots in countries subside?

Will Shadowlands be fun and not make us want to bang our heads?
Will we be able to go shopping and buy some bread?

All of these questions, and not to mention Mistbrook was gone,
Would the Skyguard be homeless or find a new home?

But then hope emerges from atop of the 2020’s death bed,
A book called ‘Skyguard plotline’, small and atop of a Dragonhawk drawn sled,

It had wrote on it not a word, but went straight to its work,
And filled up all the heroes pockets, then turned with a jerk,

And fluttering its pages, new adventures it shows,
And giving a bob, up to the sky it rose.

It sprang to the sleigh, to its team gave a flutter,
And away they all flew like the down of a gutter.

But the Skyguard heard their GM exclaim, as their future adventures drove out of sight…

“Merry Winters Veil Skyguard! And to all a good flight!”

Before we wrap up and all go to bed,
I’ve one last message I’d like to be read.
I want you to remember no matter what 2021 has in store,
You guys are the Skyguard and know that therefore,
I’ll always be here for you,
Just maybe 2 metres away or more,
So Merry Christmas my friends and thank you again,
For making my 2020 sweeter than a candy cane!

[Devontae-argent-dawn]

The Thalassian Skyguard are now on a little event break for Christmas as the officer-elves work hard in getting everything prepped for 2021. That means more Skyguard in the city, so if you’ve been wanting to come bother us and come find us for RP! We’ll be around

[Coldsháde-argent-dawn (Coldsháde)]

@Devontae-argent-dawn

1. That means more Skyguard in the city, so if you’ve been wanting to come bother us and come find us for RP!

I’ll be there!