The Thalassian Skyguard have been through the ringer these last four months. Their Bonding runes were savagely attacked - the very thing that connects them so deeply with their Dragonhawks, and ripped away with a light based curse, dampening the rune so they had no bond to their Dragonhawk siblings. They persevered and continued to try and work whilst figuring out why this had happened and how to reverse it. But misfortune was met with misfortune, a nameless Inquisitor, a lying Sky Mistress and a twisted Abbott worked the elves like putty in their hands. And now Cloudsinger their youngest Dragonhawk has paid the ultimate price - lost in the enemies hands, twisted into an abomination. The Skyguard returned to the city in silent mourning⌠Now they must look ahead to their futures, their bonding runes returned to them. Like starting a new book however, they must learn what it means to be bonded with their Dragonhawks once more.
This is the release of our new skill tree for our bonding rune in which our fliers can now look forward to a proper guide on how to use their bond and what to expect! If something affects the riderâs personality or appearance, itâs always going to be entirely up to our player characters how strong that impact is. Although weâll not publish the tree itself to the public to give some mystery to our order, we are so excited to be able to share the news. The skyguard has had an overwhelmingly positive review of it and weâre very excited to start using it!
Alright Karen; youâre a bit early for justice warrior day. Next youâll be saying down with nergal long live space marines.
Frustrated cries, are one thing you could call the noises that came from the treeline that marked Skypeakâs grounds.
Valarmar had quietly snuck into the aviary whilst every single living being was still getting their much needed shut eye. The sunrays barely licked the cotton candy coloured clouds when he and Electra snuck out like two teenagers in the night, conversing through hushed whispers and hugging walls in order to avoid being caught until they were able to descend from the peak and soar quietly through the colours of dawn.
They had been at it all morning in their place hidden from the eyes of the unit and it was only around noon that said occasional cries were loud enough for any listening ears to hear. If anyone would have pushed past the barrier of logs and brush to investigate, theyâd see Electra and Valarmar out in a clearing, surrounded by twigs and several branches broken off - leaves sticking to Electraâs feathers, Valarmar, assaulted by quick and short jabs of the beak coupled with a tirade of angry trills.
âSparringâ as he had called it, when in fact they had been practicing an elaborate dance. One Electra had been teaching him to push the boundaries of their new and different connection. It had been his idea, and she had playfully projected an image of him helplessly stumbling over his feet. Naturally, that was a challenge that could not be left unanswered.
So there they were. Frustrated wings, indignant by her riderâs failure, often swatting Valarmar when he wasnât following her image or in tune with what she had been trying to tell him. Her hoarse song to support the rhythm of his feet growing ever impatient with every failure, but one glance at her face and one could see a doting instructor, brimming with energy to join in and show him how itâs done.
There were several moments of clarity where they did synchronize, and the dance looked whimsical, playful - a lot of sharp movements that were a testament to the nature of the red-blue that had invented it. She coiled and curled with the movements of his arms as if it was he who was directing the wind beneath her wings. That is, until he made yet another mistake announced by the violent rustling of leaves and wood snapping underneath a Dragonhawkâs impact.
Due to the recent influx of the skyguard members, we are currently going to be closing the doors to future interviews for now until our numbers stabilise again. If you want to come RP with us please know we are still around and would love to meet you regardless!
this sucks i was looking to join
Shadows whirl around Noviahâs form as she descends through layers of clouds, her scarlet hair falling haphazardly around her until she suddenly feels solid ground underneathe her feet. Brick stone, folding out into what looks more and more like a courtyard, a big staircase rises infront of her leading to what looks like a priest sanctum. A weight falls on her shoulders as she realizes she has not only been here before, but she has been here every night. Covering the brick stone are shadows that turn into the vague shapes of her allies, her fellow dragonhawk riders, crumbled up into pain, and chains of blinding light.
Ahead of her on the stairs stand three figures that quickly clears from the shadows, the Sky mistress that had used them and betrayed them on the island of Sunhome. The Abbot that had not only called them there, but had been helped by them prior to this endeavor, saving his life from a troll assault. In the middle however stood her bane. The tall, robed Inquisitor, who had been playing them for weeks, breaking their bonds, and fighting them at every turn. Every single doubt and fear in the heart of Noviah began to swell up into the anger and defiance she had felt on this day.
An intense heat rises through her body, as she looks down to her hands and arms, light blazes up and folds around her form, it sears her, but she only feels the memory of the heat, the pain like a cold echo ringing through her body. Her hands reach for the Molotov in her belt, but remembers where she had gone wrong before, and instead pulls her revolver, loading in a shadow infused bullet of mythril she aims down the sights as she feels the words get stolen out of her mouth: âI WILL END YOU."
The bullet flies forwards but when it would have hit the Inquisitor it simply flies through, like he was made of grim vapor. From his hands, chains of light fly forwards to wrap around Noviah and completely traps her as she rolls and fights them, only to panic when she hears the scream of Cloudsinger as he is forced into the inquisitorâs control, and the hulking cries of Hawkwing as her bond is broken from her child.
The ground begins to rumble, before the entire courtyard breaks up and Noviah falls through the floor, underneath the brick stone lies a dark, never ending abyss, the chains of light disperse, but inside of Noviah is a quiet acceptance that nothing she can do can save this situation. She is powerless to the powers around her, she is hopeless to the slight and intelligence of her enemies, she was played at every turn and now. Now all she can do is scream, scream until the entire silent realm knows her anguish, knows her pain, knows the suffering she has been through, and the suffering waiting for her.
The scream carries a moment of clarity as Noviah rises from the bedsheets, drenched in sweat, hands folded around her own face. Arms fold around her as a gentle fond voice full of worry carries to her ear that says:â Novi! Novi! You are awake! Youâre awake, it was just a nightmare!â. The voice of her partner, Irielle cuts through the shrieking cry. She stops and stares at her, taking a moment to compose herself, breathing heavy.
Glittering gold runes lead up along the length of them, all the way up to the shoulders as Noviah finally goes to look her partner in the eyes. The long crimson hair folds around her face where two eyes of bright golden light shines, and the light breaches her soft elven skin from her eyes down and around to her chin like she had cried gold. âYouâre safe now dear. Weâre safe now under the light.â
Noviah stares, a shudder runs through her body as another scream bubbles from inside of her, forcing itself out to ear deafening volumes. The room descends into madness as the light envelopes and surrounds her, before splitting apart like ice shards only to reveal her own room once more.
Almost coughing, she instantly feels the soreness of her throat from the screaming and two arms clenched around her form as words began to slowly trickle into her subconsciousness: âWake up! Wake up! Novi!â. Novi turns her head, she is sitting up in bed, the covers have been kicked off a long time ago and yet she is drenched in dry sweat. Next to her is Irielle, looking mighty tired, and extremely worried:â Same dream?â
Noviah could only manage a soft nod before she moves her legs over to the side and stands up, grabbing a towel on the way, she goes to step herself into the shower, as she knows there will be no more sleep after that. Only thing she is left with as the water falls over face is that deeply seated feeling of defeat.
Felicia walked around the grounds of Malâthadianâs estate with her violin. She always enjoyed walking around grounds and was nice to be out in the sun.
When she finds a nice spot, she goes to up she violin under her chin and slowly starts to play a tune to herself. She needed a distraction after the last though days after the last through missions and working out how new bond works.
As she plays as soft tune, she would go into her own world closing her eyes as she played and her body seems to move on its own as she dances, she would go into her memories.
She kneels on the cold stone floor with her hand tied behind her back. Punch. She grunts as she is hit in the stomach. Looking down at the floor as she tries to get her breathing back into control. âStop reacting. This is the third week we have had to do this Felicia and you still arenât strong enough.â She looks up to the eyes of the man she called her father. He was tall and built strong, he has long black hair and a small scar on the left corner of his mouth, his green eyes stared down into her own. He looks away from her and to the two men that he had told to hit her. âKeep going till she gets it, not the face though. Break her ribs if you have to, she can be fixed easy.â He leaves the room slamming the door behind him. Fel looks down to the ground again as she waits for the next round of beats.
âWhy does he make us do this? We should just get rid of her there is no way she will be able to pass these tests and be strong enough for this job.â One of them spoke is hushed tones thinking she couldnât hear. âIdiot.â She thought to herself as she just kept her head down.
âShut up, she will hear you and we arenât meant to talk about this while we are in here.â The other spoke he was younger then the first and didnât really do much to her when she was in this room. âAlways with the tests. I hate my father, one day I will get out of this place. One day I will be be strong enough.â
âShe isnât paying attention; she never does this is just pointless. So might as well have some fun with her.â She could hear then smirk he head on his lips. She doesnât look up just focusing of my control. âGo wait outside and keep watch. LEAVE NOW!â She heard the door open and slow footsteps go out. It was fine, she would handle this. She closes her eyes as her chin gets grabbed to pull her face up. âWill show you your place and then he will kill you. Your worthless and you always will be.â She knew he was angry she could hear it but what he didnât know so was she and she wasnât as weak as he seemed to think. âOpen your eyes and look at me!â She did as she was told, the shook that appeared on his face was just what she wanted to see, and she smirks.
From outside the room there could be screaming being heard, over and over. The screams echoed throughout the whole manor; people would come running to the room as the other guy that was in there before went to get help. By the time they got to the room it was too late. Felicia opens the door and steps outside, she had blood covering her. She looks at the group that were outside she sees them flinch when she does. She goes to walk away from them and goes to her room where she gets herself showered and changed.
*When she was done, she heard a soft knock on her door, she knows it wasnât her father because he would of us come in, she goes to open the door to show the second guy that was in the room. *
âWhat do you want Londanis?â She stares at him.
âI wanted to tell you I am sorry I left I shouldnât have done that.â He looks at the ground sad before look back up at her and cups her face slightly. âYou said you would never use that magic, now he will see and get you to use it more. Though I must say your eyes look good that colour.â She steps away from him and goes to look in the mirror seeing her reflection she would step close to the mirror just to be sure. Her once green eyes and been replaced with purple. She sighs as she looks away.
âI did what I had too.â She goes to walk over to her violin and picks it up then looks at Londanis. âYou staying or leaving?â He steps into the room more and sits down as she starts playing. Doing what she can to drown out the whispers in her head.
As Feli nearly finishes the song she was playing she would slow down her movements as she comes out of her memories as well. She hates the man that was her father back then. He wasnât her father, more that he was her creator. She stops the song and opens her eyes again, blinking a though times when she sees Mal sitting on the ground not far from her and she smiles at him.
No matter how she felt about the man that raised her before, he was a crap father. And now she has a better one, as kinder one to her that truly looks out for her. She had a better family all together, and she would do whatever it takes to keep them.
Medals:
Cadet Enaje Dawnlight, awarded with a Bronze Pinion, for the âBravery Demonstrated over the skies of Stratholme.â
Cadet Volerien Arenâdezar and Skyguard Noviah âBotanicaâ Wildscythe, awarded with a Bronze Pinion and a second stud respectively, for the âTenacity and Grit showcased in the Poacherâs Island.â
Skyguard Lyllithe âShandâorâ Telâaryn, awarded with a Bronze Pinion, for the âCourage and Valour showcased in the skies of the Poacherâs Island.â
Cadet Zayâaedis Redreaver, awarded with a Bronze Pinion, for the âCourage and Valour demonstrated in the skies of the Poacherâs Island.â
Sergeant Vaelath âCantripâ Ashleaf, awarded with the fifth stud in his Bronze Pinion, for the âDevastation Rained over the Poacherâs Island.â
Skyguard Valarmar âRexxarâ Emberveil, awarded with a Bronze Tectrix, for the âSelflessness and Composure showcased over the skies of Stratholme.â
Captain Deâvontae âRomuloâ Autumnvale and Skyguard Noviah âBotanicaâ Wildscythe, awarded with a Bronze Tectrix and a third stud respectively, for the âSelflessness and Composure showcased over the skies of the Poacherâs Island.â
Promotions: Captain Deâvontae âRomuloâ Autumnvale, awarded with the status of Imperator-Ace.
Hawkrider Aladria Goldenstrider, bonded with the Red-Gold Faron.
Hawkrider Tharendys Dawnflight, bonded with the Eclipsion Pan.
Hawkrider Zayâaedis Redreaver, bonded with the Silver Draco.
Hawkrider Enjae Dawnlight, bonded with the Red-Silver Lysander.
This seems like a fun RP guild. Wishing you all the best 
Day two of the Skyrider Trials:
The first harpy dove with a seagull-like shriek, clawed hands extended for Skylarkâs back as she fought against the magic binds that kept her grounded. The harpiesâ bindings had ambushed them mid-flight, sending them hurtling to the ground. Deâvontae shook his head, knife in hand and charged it from behind as it pulled up to harass her, tawny wings flapping furiously. He leapt from the ground and jumped onto the spindly creatureâs back, stabbing at its neck and shoulder. The harpy screeched as his dagger plunged into its flesh spraying indigo dark blood from the wound every time it beat its wings, the blood burnt at Deâvontaeâs skin where it landed. A sick feeling of nausea washed through his body as the harpy threw him off, clumsily retreating into the air just as two more dived. Deâvontae snarled, slashing wildly, feeling the wet bite of the blade here and there as he felt more of the harpiesâ blood poison his body. The knife in his hand was really the wrong sort of weapon for this kind of battle and though he hadnât killed any, he was keeping them away from Skylark.
Deâvontae sliced twice at a Harpy as she flew into his face raking him with her claws. He took a shallow cut but his stabs landed like hammer blows in her ribs. She screamed and Deâvontae kicked her away from him before she could bleed onto my exposed skin. The harpy flopped away from him in a tangle of wings but there was no time to celebrate, as he recovered from the blow two more shadows plummeted towards him. Deâvontae slashed out at the one to his right, teeth gritted against the pain of the slashes the first monster had given him. He laid into the screeching harpies without pause, throwing one off and killing the other, his adrenaline pumping as he felt the poison seep into his veins.
Something cut loose in Deâvontae, all the rage and fear he had been holding back since Draenor - learning his entire unit had died, the lack lustre protection the Horde had set upon him that led to his capture at the slavers hands, the way he had been conscripted into a puppet position as a Captain of an underfunded unit, the death of his wife, the loss of his child - all ruptured out of the walls he had put around it. âJust die already!â Deâvontae felt a wave of hot fire twist up his arm and as he slammed the knife into the harpies skull a brief look of surprise passed over its ugly face before tendrils of vivacious fire tunnelled through it and blew its head apart. Deâvontae roared wordlessly as harpies mobbed him from the sky, four of them - then eight as their attention tore away from the form of Skylark.
Deâvontae was pushed down bleeding from a dozen cuts and slashed out weakly at the squabbling bird women that tried to tear him apart. The world turned dark with a rushing sound and he braced for death as a huge cold shadow washed over him and Skylark. The harpies screeched in alarm and suddenly took wing like a flock of pigeons only to scream as a straight bolt of lightning split through the air overhead and incinerated them. The couple who managed to scatter outside the fire shrilled and winged off to the side. One got clear, the other was snatched by a huge talon as an enormous winged blur shot by them, barrel rolling at speed. Dragonhawks. There were four of them. And as they flew back over the air thundered. These were at least a hundred feet long from the tips of their elegant aquiline snouts to the ends of their whip-like tails. Deâvontae struggled up onto his elbows as the blue Dragonhawk and their rider came out of their roll and strove for height revealing the pure white Dragonhawk he hadnât seen.
The Dragonhawks formed a disciplined formation above, turning on their wing tips and arrowing back towards us from the ocean. As a unit they back winged and touched down, sending dirt flying. The lead Dragonhawk was a brilliant white and silver creature whose scales flexed like mercury, there were two blues and a green only slightly smaller than their squadron leader. They were beautiful, graceful with a catlike quality as they moved - their hides shimmered and flexed like holographic colour. Everything about them was streamlined for speed. The riders were tied to the saddles with quick release harnesses connected to long braided leather cables - like their Dragonhawks they were armoured for aerodynamic speed with swept back helmets and close fitting armour and more leather than metal.
The Dragonhawks laid upon their serpent bellies and their riders stepped down with lances in hand. Deâvontae groaned, fighting to sit up as the Dragonhawk riders jogged over to himself and Skylark - an elf man in the lead, tall and built like a quarterback pushed his visor up to reveal a long hard and handsome face with golden blonde eyebrows. His eyes were weird - he looked like a blonde prince charming serial killer. His irises were huge, barely leaving any room for the whites and so were his pupils, the usual rim of pink that surrounded a normal personâs eyes was dark grey, literal eagle eyes. Until a smile flashed over his mouth and his features softened slightly. âDeâvontae Autumnvale, it would seem youâve passed the first part of your trial - this is where the true battle begins.â
Forty hours later:
After scoring his final herbs from the murk that surrounded the arena, Deâvontae was ready to approach his final goal of his trial. A lonely flight of stairs to the temple of the Imperator was narrow and uneven, weaving in and out of the raw stone that surrounded the base of the ruins. The shadows of all the flying creatures that called this place home spiralled over the ground as he climbed up to the front of the building, a small castle like fort carved straight into the rock. The huge double doors were made of the same metal as the ones in Pandaria - feeling tired, Deâvontae opened the door just enough to slip inside. It boomed as he closed it behind him and he took a moment to look around the arched room.
The temple was warm and smoky, lit by the golden glow of a hundred thousand candles. Graceful pillars wrapped by carved wings supported the high vaulted ceiling and rows of statues marched from beside the door all the way to the altar at the other end. There a huge round window perfectly framed the yellow orb of the moon outside - the statues were all of elves - slender elves with elegant hands, their heads lowered and their faces obscured by long floating veils perfectly rendered in marble. Each one of them carried a different item, a book, a globe, scales and a compass, a sword, tools of justice, learning and wisdom. The room smelled of wax and old roses. The candle flames flickered as the door shut with a small gust of wind but quickly settled back to their smooth tapers. At the end of the room, one of the statues moved - a woman who looked like a pillar with silver veils and robes turned to face him as Deâvontae advanced.
As he grew closer he could see the suggestion of her face beneath the sheer material covering her. She was older, middle aged, her hair bound out of sight - all that was clearly visible of her was her hands.
âWelcome aspirant.â She said - her voice was croaky but her tone was gentle âHave you brought the ingredients for the ritual?â
âYes,â Deâvontae replied.
âAnd are you prepared to undergo the trial of the Skyrider? The gauntlet through which all Imperators must pass.â
âYes,â He said quickly.
âCome with meâ
The priestess moved away, her robes billowing out softly behind her. Deâvontae hurried to catch up. âOnce the infusions are made, they must be administered immediately.âThe priestess extended her hands and Deâvontae passed over the items, she dipped her head in acknowledgement âFollow meâ.
She led him through a smaller bronze door and into a library and from there through another less ornate oak door, down a flight of stairs. As they descended the scent of old roses and incense was replaced by a mixture of earthy chemical smells, the faint odours of battery acid and oxidized metal. She opened the way into a chamber that was only lit by the moon overhead. A deep skylight focused a beam of soft golden light onto a harsh leather and metal chair in the centre of the room, like something out of a dentist themed horror movie.
âThis is the chamber where I will administer the trial. You will have a few minutes to collect yourself and pray, you are allowed to refuse at any time with no loss of honour.â
Deâvontae steeled himself and went over to the chair laying a hand on it, it had a headrest and straps. The padding was in good condition at least. The Priestess bowed her head and left the room, when the door closed Deâvontae was left in the room by himself and that was when the nerves finally set in. Weirdly the first thing he worried about was Ashtail, he had left him sniffing around a mostly empty food bowl back at the city, he was capable of caring for himself but. Then he began to worry about the Skyguard back at home and if the timing of it all, would they get into trouble when he was gone? What of the Inquisitor attacked in his absence? They needed him.
As the anger, bewilderment and anxiety cooled, he found himself thinking back to the past. He sat on the edge of the horrible chair and wrapped a bandage around his branded chest and brooded on all the things that had led to him being here. The Dragonhawks of the ruins were so close, he could hear them distantly through the walls of this place, their roars and bugles - the thunder of their wings. It was like going home after sitting through an exam, the weird mixture of relief, anxiety and wondering of âdid I do everything right? And what do I do now?â
The future was a terrifying dark void and the only things pushing him on were fate and hope. Deâvontae balled his hands into fists feeling them clench and relax and drew a deep steadying breath. He wasnât a praying man but he could get behind hoping for a better future. Loneliness sucked, so did war. Maybe this trial would be the catalyst Skylark and he needed to bridge that gap in their bond. Propelling him to literal and symbolic heights. Or maybe he would learn that it couldnât do that for him. But either way he planned to survive to find out.
The Priestess came back fifteen minutes later with a small tray on wheels. There were five glass syringes, two red, one yellow, one white, one grey. All of them except the white one had a shifting ambient glow, beside the magical solutions she had needles and tubing immersed in a clear vial of alcohol. Tools of a medieval IV. Deâvontae stood up restlessly.
âThe trial of the Skyrider is very dangerous,â she said, picking up the tubing and needles and laying them out on a clean cloth to dry. âOnly the strongest survive, not the strongest of body, the strongest of will.â
âThen itâs good that Iâm a stubborn jackass, pardon my language.â
âYou must suffer through the pain and remain conscious as long as you are able.â
Without commenting on the elves choice of words she set up a needle and tube.
âThis is your final chance, if you wish to proceed, shed your weapons and armour, lay down and rest your head back.âDeâvontae eyed the chair. He shrugged his armour off and lay his bow down on the floor beside the chair, then he eased onto it and lay back.
âFocus on your desire to stand before your bonded and serve the people of the Sky.â
The priestessesâ voice had shifted to the rhythmic tone of the recital.
âFocus on your goal of meeting your fellow fliers successful and reborn, focus on what it will be like for future hatchlings to run across to you from the sands of the hatchling ground, eyes full of love and trust - can you see the future children? Can you see their eyes? Feel their regard for you? You who endured so much pain to ensure he and his ilk can thrive happy and unhunted?âIt was a powerful feeling, the kind that picked his heart up and made his blood pound.
âYesâ
âYou donât have to answer me, answer yourself, feel it until it burns in your heart.â
Deâvontae closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.
âI will insert the needle and administer the anaesthetic.â
She moved around him in the dark, silk whispering against skin.
âIt will numb the pain somewhat, but it will make you feel cold and dizzy. After that, you will be given the first of the poison tainted serums, once Iâve begun it can not stop no matter the pain.â
Deâvontae nodded. âI understand.â
âOnce I begin the spell do not interrupt me.â
The womanâs hand closed on his arm as she buckled the straps of the chair over his limbs âNot for any reason. Scream if you must, but do not stop the chant.â
Swallowing he let the waves of fear wash through him. There was no reassurance, only the certainty that yes this was dangerous and yes he probably was going to die, at least for a little while. The priestess came around to his left once he was strapped down.
âAnd now⌠We beginâThe needle was nothing, a cold pinch, a small ache, and it was done. He lay there in the half light, looking up at the moon, watching the clouds swirl across its surface. He felt the priestess ready the IV and glanced over to see her depressing the plunger on the first of the syringes, the one with the white fluid. It hit his veins like ice, spreading up his arm in a cooling numbing wave. When it reached his chest his whole body relaxed, slumping down. He felt distant and strange within a couple of minutes. Conscious, but floaty.
There was a clink and rustle and then the Priestess began to drone a soft chant under her breath. The sound rose and fell, rose and fell and he found himself lost in it as his breathing slowed and his body slumped. It was peaceful, even pleasant. He smelled arcane and a sharp unpleasant smell like rotten broccoli. Slowly he looked over to see her attach the darker of the two red vials to the IV, he was sure this was the Banshees bells concoction. She began to chant louder as she pressed the plunger down, he braced for it. But nothing could prepare him for when it hit.
It was like being injected with lava. He jerked like heâd been burned only to fall back dizzily. As Deâvontae struggled to remain conscious, to breath, a sense of agony and nausea and a sense of wrongness rolled over him like a storm blowing in over the ocean. When it reached his heart, the agony shocked his mind out of his body. He fought it, but he only lasted for so long before he threw up and passed out into the black.
Deâvontae opened his eyes, the ceiling overhead was a curved mosaic of Dragonhawks in flight, white Dragonhawks a dark swirling sky with stars and beautiful glass like glyphs worked into the patterns around the edge. The light was dim and yellowish but he could see every variation and tint and hue, the way the tiles shifted between indigo and sky blue. The tiny opalescent flaws in the glass, the specs of ground that had escaped the artistâs notice. He breathed in deeply, very deeply, unusually so. A prickling rush spread through his limbs and as his eyes widened the mosaic came into sharper focus. He didnât have to turn his head to see what was on the dresser beside him, a candelabra. The fire rippled with a holographic aura that bathed the table in rainbow light. He had never seen fire like it.
âEasy nowâŚâ A low voice said from his other side, slowly Deâvontae turned his head trying to clear the cobwebs. It was the Priestess, she leaned over him and took a damp cloth from over his forehead, setting it aside on a steaming bowl atop the dresser beside his head. The details of the room filtered in, he was laying in an elegant wooden bed, laying under layers of tanned furs, back in Skypeak.
âIâm alive?â Deâvontae rasped blinking away red spots of smashed strawberry blotches that swam before his eyes.
âYesâ, the Priestess took a small flask and held it to his lips. âAnd now for your final test, drink.â
Deâvontae was so nauseated, that the odour of the herbal potion made him retch. But he obeyed. Whilst she supported his head he drank, and cool relief washed through his gut. His breathing steadied, the pain in his chest began to subside and some of the weakness left his limbs.
âGood, can you sit?â
Grunting he struggled up until he leaned against the headboard, just that much effort was exhausting. Whilst she prepared for a second and third potion, Deâvontae closed his eyes. âWhat was that?â
âBrightlace potion, itâs toxic usually, but you are changed now Deâvontae. Here, two more.â She helped him drink a second potion which made him strong enough to drink the third on his own.âI made it?â Deâvontae looked over his hands, now that he was healed - He felt different, better. Stronger. His lungs seemed larger, his heart slower, his body so light he felt like he could float if he tried to stand. He felt like he could see for miles âHoly-âŚâ
The priestess smiled, âYes, you did.â
âWowâŚâ
"I have vague memories of when I woke up from the transmutation fever.â She said wistfully. âDonât you think this is what it feels like to be a butterfly?â
âHow long have I been out?â
âFour days, a little longer than is typical - we were getting worried.âSlowly Deâvontae pushed aside the covers and shuffled around until he could stand. There was a mirror on the other side of the room - he made that his goal and embraced the suck by tottering over. The first steps were wobbly but by the time he reached the mirror his steps were steadier. The trial had changed him, the most alarming change was his eyes. Deâvontae now had the same large eagle-like pupils as the other riders he had met a few days earlier, and the iris of his eyes had bleached. They were no longer wild green - but an eerie arcanic blue threaded with silver. His features were sharper, with more exaggerated cutting edges than what he had been born with and his hair laid less wild and more streamlined like a Dragonhawks wings. As he turned his face in the light of the room he inspected himself further. He seemed taller and his teeth sharper - his body warm⌠He could feel Skylark within him like their souls were twinned and joined. He felt⌠Reborn.
âI have laid out your armour, Deâvontae. It is time you meet your fellow fliers and show them an Imperator.â
The Thalassian Skyguard heads to Pandaria with the following units to hunt and put an end to divine cultists who will stop at nothing to purge the world for their ideal warped vision of a pure light infused world.
âJust one hour.â
Was what he muttered to himself when Noviah finished her personal plea and retreated to answer the call of her own demons. He had left Electraâs side to go and find a moment of piece and had bumped into Noviah who had asked him if she could stay by his side. He agreed and the two of them had retreated to a secluded spot up in the hills to âperchâ as he had called it. In truth, he just needed a quiet place to sit and reflect on the evening, and perhaps even more than that.
After short conversation and an attempt at being helpful, he offers Noviah a wry smile when she moves off to tend to her work out routine, but⌠the smile didnât feel genuine. Like it didnât belong on his face. He didnât have much to smile about after all.
How could he? They had faced the zealots again, seen them and had a chance to strike, yet when he thought of what heâd do - he found himself pulled back to mull over each and every exchange with the group of traitors. Clueless.
He thought about how theyâd all been bound by chains and grounded, seperated from their dragonhawks for so long and even though those bounds were lifted, it just felt as though they had just latched on to his mind instead.
His fingers are wound tight around a peacebloom pendant, creating painful indents in the archerâs worked hands. It was a treasured gift that heâd loyally worn since the moment he draped it around his neck and the sentimentality of it is like an anchor to him, a reminder to brace for and embrace the storm that roiled outside and within.
The ranger pours himself into his prayers and shuts himself off from the world around, withering into a smaller version of himself. Clueless indeed, that much was clear. From his place in battle to the call out he made when he was temporarily made wing leader. Watching his actions lead to the injury of precious fliers within the unit. He felt clueless and just as helpless as he was when Cloudsinger was lightforged.
Perhaps it was the weight of first time leadership that was felt strongly by the elf, or perhaps it was failure of living up to his aspirations to protect those who are dear to him.
The starlight near seared into his glistening skin, still wet from the evening rain as he kicks himself. Praying and praying and then some. Wishing for the full length of the hour to be able to stand again, force his legs to work with him and for his back to be an aegis to his unit, someone they could look at and think - that is an elf on which I choose to depend.
But for that to ever be a reality, there would have to be a push. Not a tidal wave, but just a gentle nudge into the right direction and when he opens his eyes again and exhales the pressure heâd been holding, he resigns himself to a sleepless night. He lifts himself back up onto his feet and parts ways with Noviah, trodding down the stone steps and bee-lining straight for the healerâs hut - checking up on each and every member of Autumnwing that had been injured in the skirmish and offering a healing hand where he was needed.
The glow of green roiled across the cracks of my wooden pen, searching for gaps large enough to corrupt their way through. I could hear those damned wails of hunger droning out in long unending bleats, with the darkness suffocating around me, the stench of rotting eggs and the putrid glow of fel, it was all I could do not to lose my mind. And the loneliness, only accompanied by those pathetic shells of echoed guesses in which I tried to understand where they had taken him. My Alaris. The door to my pen opened with a creak of leather straps groaning in protest, there standing in the spirals of gaseous fel clouds, an elf with a gaping black hole for a mouth. Eyes, dark and green watched me with a feral hunger, black saliva dripped to the floor like the sound of tar slapping the floor. I backed away, hand stretched across my face, it couldnât be- it couldnât be himâŚ
âŚâALARIS!â I jolted up into a sitting position, cold sweat dripping down my spine and across my face. I felt pain throbbing and ebbing, but it was little distraction to the hammering of my aching heart. It was a nightmare, a terrible terrible nightmare. My eyes darted about me, searching for signs to confirm anything I could remember. The room was a small one, with bright golden rays of light that shone through a small oval open doorway, singeing my eyes - just how long had I been out for? My mind fell back to a similar moment of deja vous, in where I had awoken in a medical bay in Silvermoon city, freshly brought home from the slavers. I searched neurotically through bleary eyes at the room, but I spotted no white birch, no phoenix filigree, no vine etches or silverleaf with syringes beside it. Instead I spotted the tranquil face of a tanned elf, his eyes closed hiding the bright luminescent orbs beneath and giving more quarter to regard the jagged scar on his eye and the freckles that dotted beneath it.
That was right⌠Rexxar had come in during my panic attack and stayed on vigil with me over the night when I had exhausted myself into a stupor. Around the caring Skyguard wrapped the slumbering head of Skylark, my Dragonhawk, her autumnal ambers and red scales glittering in the light. She had fallen asleep, her body pushed up against the small door to allow only for her long neck and head to reach in and pull Rexxar in tightly against the warmth of her neck, her beak and nostrils laying beside my arm so she may smell me and know I am safe.
I raised my hand to the sun and regarded my pale skin and gnarled worked fingers; the raised veins had receded and I could no longer see the black liquid shadow that had pumped into them. You would have thought a calmness would come to me in seeing the fears had nothing to take route and knowing no harm had come to anyone that did not deserve it. And yet⌠I found myself desperately trying to avoid going back to sleep⌠too terrified at knowing for that briefest of moments, I had become Konradâs puppet for his vengeance. A vengeance born in shadow, the same that took them from me those years agoâŚ
Hey you!
**Who me? **
Yeah you!
Did you know the Skyguard are having a birthday party?
Whatâs that got to do with me!
Well youâre a horde member so youâre invited!
Oh wow, where do I find out more?
Just follow this nifty link over here-⌠clicks
Keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen like a bean
A new issue of the Skyguardâs Ceremonial Newsletter has been freshly released:
For their continuous efforts against the Divine Crusade that ensured the forces of the Ashen Bulwark were ready to fight another day:
- Captain Deâvontae âRomuloâ Autumnvale, awarded with the First Stud in his Bronze Tectrix.
- Skyguard Noviah âBotanicaâ Linel, awarded with the Fourth Stud in her Bronze Tectrix.
- Skyguard Valarmar âRexxarâ Emberveil, awarded with the First Stud in his Bronze Tectrix.
- Skyguard Lyllithe âShanâdorâ Telâaryn, awarded with the First Stud in her Bronze Tectrix.
For their various contributions during the deployment against the Divine Crusade that ensured our objective was completed:
- Captain Deâvontae âRomuloâ Autumnvale, awarded with the Second Stud in his Bronze Rectrix.
- Lieutenant Iâlen âTalanasâ Lavellan, awarded with the Second Stud in his Bronze Rectrix.
- Sergeant Vaelath âCantripâ Ashleaf, awarded with the Third Stud in his Bronze Rectrix.
- Skyguard Malâthadian âFelreaverâ Spineblade, awarded with the First Stud in his Bronze Rectrix.
- Skyguard Sylvariah âFaebrightâ Stardusk, awarded with the Bronze Rectrix.
For the conspicuous valour and tenacity showcased in the fight against the Divine Crusade:
- Skyguard Valarmar âRexxarâ Emberveil, awarded with the Bronze Pinion.
- Hawkrider Enjae Dawnlight, awarded with the First Stud in his Bronze Pinion.
- Cadet Beladria Aranâdezar, awarded with the Bronze Pinion.
Promotions:
Hawkrider Beladria Aranâdezar, bonded with the Eclipsion Ophini.
And last but not least, the Skyguard is pleased to announce that Noviah âBotanicaâ Linel, for her outstanding dedication, compromise and continued support of the unit, has been promoted to the rank of Sky Warden.
Felicia would walk through the forest as she takes in all the sights, she knew this was a dream but it was more peaceful than her normal ones so she was enjoying it, she walked peaceful as she just takes the time to just enjoy.
It would be then when she hears a voice coming up from behind her, she didnât know what they were saying but it sounded like a female. She turns to see where it was coming from to then see a female Sinâdorei rushing through the tree. âShaâira! Elissa! Where are you?â The woman was screaming out as running through the woods. Feli watched her confused about who she was and who she was calling for. The other Sinâdorei looked like her a little, she had the same red hair and her face was beautiful, she was dressed in a pale blue dress and it looked expensive. âShaâira! Elissa!â She was crying out again as she kept running around, was clear she was worried about these people she was look for.
âMummy!â Feli turned with the other woman when she heard two child voices calling back and seems to run with the woman as she rushed to the voices. âOh, my babies.â Feli stood to the side as she watched the scene unfold around her and was surprised and confused at what she saw. She saw the mother clinging onto her two children as looked like she was cry but smiling at the same time that she had found them. The youngest couldnât be older then 10 years old and she had pure blonde hair. The older one, Feli could tell who that was, she was able to see her younger self but was even more confused as she didnât remember this day, her 16-year-old self had some blood on her cloths that she could only see when her mother pulled back.
âAre you both ok?â Her mother spoke with such care and worry as she looked at her oldest daughter and the went to look about where the blood was coming from.
âItâs not mine mother I promise, Elissa and I were playing hide and seek and then I heard her scream so I rush to her and saw a lynx looking like was going to attack her. I had to do something; I couldnât let it hurt my little sister. Its dead mum, I killed it.â Feli watches her younger self look like she was about to cry with her words. The first time she had ever killed anything, and was to protect her sister.
âOh Shaâria, my sweet baby girl, its ok. You both safe now.â Her mother held her tightly as she comforted her younger self. She looked like she was something again but then there was another voice this time a male and Felicia heart seemed to spot and she panicked, she near that voice all too well.
âFelicia! Shaâria! Elissa!â Felicia looked as she saw the man that trained her, the man that had raised her come rushing toward the three females. He looked younger, not at many winkles and scars on his face, his hair was blonde that matched her little sisters and his green eye looked brighter than what she was used to seeing, not any hatred or pain behind them.
âDaddy!â Felicia watched in shock as she watched her younger self rush to her father and jump into his arms, she didnât fear him like Felicia has, she didnât hate him.
âOh, my little rose, are you ok?â Felicia stepped back confusing and fear rushing through her head as she had to get away. Her mother goes to hug her father with her little sister and she see him kiss the top of her motherâs head with the finally words she heard. âYou found our girls Felicia, you found them.â
Feli woke up sitting bolt upright in bed and she breathed heavily, she held onto her head as she didnât understand what she just saw in her dream. She looks around her room as she sees a small amount light came through the windows.
âThis isnât possible. He couldnât have been.â Feli sat in bed holding onto her head as she tried to think about everything and try to make sense of it all.
The Thalassian Skyguard birthday on the 25th of September THIS WHOLE VERY SAME MONTH, is going to be raising funds for this adorable little hatchlings. So if you were considering coming or not, do it for the baby sky noodles.
The sun rose steadily over Eversong, the light and the leaves turning the air a soft gold. Hustle bustled, Dragonhawks trilled and called, and Skypeak slowly rose with the dawn.
Aelevie Dawnsong was already up and about, idling over some parchments to re-file a little later on. Truth be told, her workload was very light at the moment; there was only so many times one could re-sort the reagents shelf in the Infirmary, or try and file the meagre medical records of the Skyguard. She had meant to work on that, but the case of the âBilge Blightâ that had kept her away from the field for a while now had also stymied her efforts there, much to her chagrin.
The door opened and closed smoothly behind her, and the quiet, staccato tapping of boots on the floor followed a second later.
âGood morning, Arenis.â
âGood morning, maâam.â Arenis Windgaze, her handler turned basically all-around minder, replied as he set down a small package on the desk beside her, before stepping to one side and standing at ease.
âWhat is this?â Levi asked, setting down her quill and raising an eyebrow.
âI have to confess, maâam, my skills are many but omniscience is sadly not among them.â
That earned Arenis a narrow-eyed glower from behind Leviâs spectacles, to which he responded with nothing more than a lopsided smile. Turning away, in part to hide the smile that threatened to cross her own face, Levi slid a letter-opener from her writing materials and deftly removed the wrapping. Inside was a small box which, when the lid was lifted, contained a neatly folded letter and a small, blue crystal shard.Levi flipped open the letter and read rapidly, Arenis staring idly out the window while she did so. The air was perfectly still for a few minutes.
It was disturbed by a sigh as Levi set down the letter, as she too stared out at the Eversong treeline beyond the glass.
âIt is my father.â
âIs he well?â
âWell enough⌠And yet he worries. Not just about me, although that is a given. About our family. About certain⌠opposed interests, within the nobility.â
âThe Indranilleâs?â Arenis did not turn from the window, and it was only the faintest of hints of a rise in intonation that suggested it was a question at all.
âQuite. Not her Ladyship it would seem, at least not openly. No, I do not think she is the problemâŚâ
âThe son.â
âSadly, yes. It seems last time was not enough to deter him.â
Arenis scoffed, the first sign of a crack in his pristine mannerisms in a long while.
âThe little priz. Give me a couple of weeks leave and a pair of good quality, six inch steels, maâam; thatâll learn him.â
âHah. Your other skillset, hm?â
âIâm sure I donât know what you mean, maâam.âLevi couldnât help but chuckle at that. She reached for the crystal, holding it gently between her thumb and index finger for a moment, until it pulsed three times with a soft blue glow.
âI need to pack, it would seem. And talk to the Captain.â
âLeave the former to me, maâam.â
âThank you, Arenis. You know I do not like running away-â
âI rather think this counts as ârunning towardsâ, if you ask me maâam. The Skyguard are not the problem, after all.â
âHah. QuiteâŚâ
Aelevie looked out the window once more. She had no idea how long this was going to take. Thallasian politics were a winding maze at the best of times, never mind when there was intrigue and successions involved. Skypeak was like a home to her, the Skyguard her broad, dysfunctional and heartfelt family.
But, for now, it was time for her to go Home.
During Koshâharg Illuriel had the chance to witness a lot of traditions that were unfamiliar to her - she took part in the Pilgrimmage, listened to songs that were offered, she got excited to watch the brawl and cheer on friends, helped by attending a hunting party, got lost with another member of her Unit while searching the fishing contest and finally took part in the dance where she had the chance to see all the different ways individuals chose to move.
All in all she returns to Eversong while being glad that she could attend and is already looking forward to the next year.