Blood Warden,
We have received word from your superiors regarding the at large enemy forces âCrucible of Purity.â Having reviewed the plea from the Farstriders and Horde delegates, following your superiors reports, we have no choice but to recognise this as a stage âsevereâ threat and as such we have sent forwards the funding for you to put this to bed.
We have entrusted the primary forces assigned to this mission to be the Farstriders of the High home and subsequently the Thalassian Skyguard. It is imperative that you silence this aggression before it becomes deeper routed than it already is.
Prepare to assemble your fliers, Blood Warden - You and your soldiers actions in the next coming days will determine the future of our peoples safety.
Signed Magister Talvaeus Dawnblood,
Military Adjunct and representative of the Sunfury Spire
The Thalassian Skyguard took to the skies for the first time in 2022 with some heavy montage training in preparation for the next upcoming campaign! In the mean time weâve also brushed up on our acting skills with helping an alliance team fight some thugs! IE US!
After her daily work was done, a redheaded elf found her way to the Hatchery - this wasnât unusual in the slightest as the mentioned elf was known to be a Dragonhawk rider and one of their Duties was taking care of the Hatchlings as well. However, today was not her shift in the Hatchery as she was there for a specific reason - her eyes scanned the room until she found who she was there for: a rather odd looking eclipsion Hatchling named Luna. With a bright smile Illuriel slowly made her way through greeting the other Hatchlings as she went and finally stood in front of her target, bowing quite formally. The eyes of the small Dragonhawk rested on her for a moment, her beautiful and unusual multicoloured beak opened in slow motion, but instead of a sweet chirp as a greeting Illuriel was met by a startling loud and very out of place noise - âBRRRBRBRRRBRâ the imitation of a, very loud, engine never failed to make Illuriel flinch, followed by a hearty laugh.
Today, however, she sat next to Luna and let the hawk sit on her lap, the engine mimicking dying down to a low and steady purr. âYouâve got so much talent and we wouldnât want to waste it, so i thought of something thatâll make everyone cheer for you even more than they do already.â And with that, Illuriel began to teach the Hatchling a sound - if anyone were to swing by all theyâd see was Illuriel spending time with the Hatchlings, as the chirps and singing of the other Dragonhawks would conceal any sound the elf made in the furthest corner away from the entrance.
â
This scene repeated itself only twice and by the new dawn after the second meeting anyone sleeping in or nearby the Skypeak would probably be woken up by Luna, the tiny Dragonhawk with the mighty voice and her newest sound she mimicked - the wakeup crowing of a rooster at the top of her little lungs.
Skyguard latest RP event
And so with the Dawnrunner estate secured the Farstriders settled in for the night. The Skyguard amongst them. Shortly after fortifying began, a series of portals opened in the heart of the estate, disgorging additional Farstrider forces along with Spire personnel including menders and a gaggle of magi. Ashleaf and the remaining Skyguard followed through along with this new detachment of reinforcements, bringing with them supplies and equipment required to keep an aerial unit running in the field.
Shortly before dawn there was a flicker as a series of wards illuminated the Estateâs perimeter, secured as a temporary solution against the Crucible of Purityâs no doubt imminent attempt to remove the Thalassian forces from their home. It was safety though, or as close to it as possible in the middle of enemy territory.
The first step to reclaiming Sunhome has been taken.
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Malâthadian takes to his normal tasks with gusto and sets up his portable forge with the help of some of the other farstriders, much to their displeasure and annoyance, but the threat of broken armour or a forge hammer to the knee soon got them moving. Within a couple of hours the forge was lit and the rhythmic ring of hammer to anvil filled the air, stripped to the waist and sweating, the Forde Master of the Skyguard sets to work!
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The lightsinged medic rouses herself from sleep to check on the injured around camp, seen writing things down in her medical journal before eventually taking care of herself as she replaces the bandages around her head to reveal that some of the scarring had persisted, she applied the salves to her wounds before letting the dry air help heal her side of the face.
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Deâvontae sets himself in front of the Dragonhawks, his course fingers running across their warm carapaces and gently tussling each feather following the downing design. His keen eyes spot each imperfection, each burn scorch and tare. With a mixture of the magic that comes so naturally to him for these creatures and a life time of studious work in salves and mixes for vetenary care, the Captain helps to heal the Skyguards siblings. Extra attention and care is given to Faron and his large gaping wound leaving behind a softened indenture in his carapace that only time would heal.
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Aladria groans quietly, unable to sleep any longer, the searing pain in her leg slowly making itself apparent with each minute of her returning consciousness, everything in her vision seems to just meld together to one big blurry blob, unable to distinguish anything or anyone. Looking around a daze as she tries to remember the events of the last few hours.
In spite of their initial victory, it was clear there was a long way to go until the Thalassian forces could say Sunhome had once again been brought back to the fold, and the cultists on the island⌠well, they were more than eager to remind everyone of that. Many of the scouting parties had gone missing overnight: either failing to report, or found dead just a few miles away from the protective barrier.
After a couple of hours of what was already an unkind night, matters throughout the Estate take a turn for the worse as the Crucible of Purity began a scattered siege on the land they had lost. Many of the magi and the menders (and at certain points, even just those with an ounce of potential) are forced to work around the clock in order to prevent the mission from failing before it even had the chance to start.
Though the unit was fortunate enough to avoid the worst of the conflict, it still made for a restless night. One thing was for certain, however and it was that their current situation wasnât sustainable. Something had to change.
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Noviah would not rest, but she would not endeavour to work on her own, in fear of not being of service later due to exhaustion, sheâd call upon her medical team of Valarmar Emberveil, Enjae Dawnlight, Kira and Lyllithe Telâaryn, as she would make a list of priorities and procedure, keeping their forces on their feet much so more then permanent fixes, each given adrenalines, potions and surgical supplies if they did not already pack, and then split up to serve a bigger spectrum of people.
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Valarmar had finished unpacking, counting out and re-packing his lay out by then, making a head count of every arrow and every tool he had at his disposal before Noviah came calling. Heâd pick up the task with little complaint and haul a lighter version of his gear around when tending to the wounded. Primarily making use of his surgical kit and Noviahâs tinctures, providing small talk and light jokes with those that were wounded to lighten the mood just a little bit. His light would only be a last resort.
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Kira would of happily helped where she could when she was asked to by Noviah. She had a little more light then normal after she had removed the last from the ancient. She would make her rounds to anyone that needed the help and made sure everyone gotten drinks and food as well. Once she was done she would go check in Bumble, making sure the dragonhawk was comfy. Was strange for her to not be near her animals so being with him gave her some comfort.
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Alaâtoreth remains in the camp, naturally, though with news of the Lightforged Ancient, she wears a troubled expression on her face. After a while of ummâing and ahhâing, she begins to make enquiries about whether a sample of the fallen creature could be found, or acquired, and given to her, the Elf making claiming a small space for herself in the meantime.
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Ranthos on the other hand seems to have been swept up by the Magi in providing barriers and shielding to their temporary home, running around camp a little like a headless chicken and assisting where he can. After some explanation on his end, and an observation by one of their fellow Elves, his purpose makes a small shift into essentially working as a mana battery, and he spends the day slowly working through three or four mana crystals, the items almost constantly in his hands, to keep up his reserves.
After some hard training in Silvermoons courts the Skyguard will be taking to the field, not for battle - but to learn and expand their knowledge under Head Medic Noviahâs guide.
Reports from the front lines of Sunhome
The Skyguard moved in on an opportunity attack against the Crucible of Purity in hopes to hurt their moral and bring about more of a chance for us to secure our foothold. Their attacks have been relentless putting us in a constant stale mate that we do not have the funds to break.
We hit the skies and the winds were against us, bringing the enemy fliers who had expected our attack or seen us coming closer to their camp. We engaged in combat, but their enemy fliers proved to be competent and deadly, signs showed theyâve been using methods of torture on the Dragonhawks to get them complacent. We suspect the riders to not be elven and took many wounds in pushing them back for us to start sieging their base.
Reports show that the enemy also had a horde of civilians they had been keeping hidden. Purposes unknown. Estimated amount, fifty.
We did not have the resources or time to save them before we had to issue a code red and release our state issued bomb. Before leaving we used Dragonhawk fire to eradicate the last of the buildings and retreated. I witnessed their fliers retreating also - not all is won tonight.
Final report: Casualties estimated at sixty.
Signed Captain .D.F. Autumnvale
The Skyguard are very happy to welcome our three newest recruits! With having had a troubling week of heavy missions the unit prepare to sit back and break a cold one out with the boys! If youâre around this friday and want to come RP weâll be in Silvermoon!
Iâll probably pop by this Friday for some RP on my monk that Iâve been considering enrolling with. Sheâs the partner of Azlinniel. ^^
Tonight the Skyguard team up with the Blazing Phoenix in a three part epic saga to take on the Divine Crusade!
Thick smoky clouds rolled in like boulders from the ocean towards the shore, ready to crush anything in their way. The darkness was engulfing and seemed to fully consume any spec of light, any last hope was gone⌠Without warning water came gushing down - throwing itself onto the jagged knife-like rocks that speared the tops of the black inkwell ocean around Dawnwatch. The water came gushing down like a waterfall along the jagged surface of the rocks, merciless winds causing enormous waves to crash and erupt like lava coming down from a raging volcano.
The waves punch and beat at the rocks with all of their might, the winds gusts scything like knives against the piercing thorns of branches. Branded across the blackened skies, a single blinding white light cuts through the immensely thick cloud and fog rolling down from the ocean like a laser. Its source vividly made out to be a figure upon the prow of one of the Thalassian Destroyers, hands raised with eyes a ghostly white channelling the elements to shatter the peace and tranquillity of the northern seas.
The enchanted boulders of clouds stormed over the heads of Dawnwatch like an approaching army awakening the Sinâdorei soldiers who took refuge in its wake. The sounds of the wounded Farstriders in the makeshift med bay are ripped by the wind like the silencing command of an overprotective mother. âThey plan to keep the winds to stop us getting in the air.â A voice offered from the concrete walls that protect the base, quaking hands losing heat grip harder onto the edges of spy glasses and bows. âI canât see a damn thing, the elements are hiding the moon. What should we do, Dawnspear?â A pause follows as all eyes turn to the address Farstrider, her form rigidly pressed against the white concrete, arms resting on the crag as she nurses the spyglass. âWhat are the-â Her voice catches, drowned out by a high pitched howl that was not the wind⌠dark figures swung out over their heads âSOUND THE ALARM!â
At 3,000 metres, the windrider drew level with her two comrades pulling the long taloned wings of their Dragonhawks into full span to ride the vicious winds. Up here they were beyond detection from the searching eyes of the Ashen Bulwarkâs sentinels, a tactical decision on their part to reduce flack and maintain themselves out of anti-aerial reach. Rain harassed their backs as the shaman worked to make aerial conditions completely unfavourable for the blasted Skyguard, but it had not been an easy climb for their own either.
She knew this in advance of their take off today; they had one shot to make their attack and Siona would not be seen made a fool of by missing. Her hand strokes over the silver backed Dragonhawk and traced the line she knew so well that blended the gold underbelly hidden by armour where the weapon had been stowed. She looked back to Blizzard and was grateful to see him putting aside his map and giving her the thumbs up, they were above where they needed to be. Sheâd preferred conditions to be more optimal, to make better use of their scouts intelligence, but knowing where the things were and where she was in relation to them were two entirely different things.Siona reaches for the weapon, her mind going over her decisions again; light weapon to compensate for the wind conditions that they needed to ground the murdering Skyguard, the height and darkness making it hard for her to see her targets and the knowledge this was her only chance to return the favour for what they did at Whiteoak. They told her to take four, but four meant only four chances⌠Siona calibrated the fuse of the weapon, it would read the air pressure like clockwork and before they knew what was happening it would be too late. Her other fliers gave her the signal and Siona gave out a keening whistle, the trio released their payload!
The bomb drops through the sky like a dark silhouette of the night itself, a small red dot bleeping on its head. The counter ticked and then the outer shell of the cylinder started to peel away like an umbrella, raining down hundreds of tiny bombs that spring in a cone of destruction towards Duskwatch. The alarm sounds off below, music to her ears âAccuracy for assuredness. Letâs sweep back boys! The Inquisitor has a need for us.â
A big thank you to the Blazing Phoenix for coming and enjoying three days of RP with us following our ongoing plot line. We look forward to more in the future!
This week the Skyguard are preparing with their casual raid team to hit the new raid scene, meanwhile in RP, something isnât quite right in Skypeak!
âWindriders, children of the nomads, the Wildervale chose you to honour their waystation. You who were chosen to guard the spirits of the winged angels and protectors of the skies inherent.-âŚThis message is left from the last of us that wander. Know you come from a line much more than you know, a history lost but through tongue or our vital edicts that alas have been many destroyed in the ancient wars. As this was our duty, it is now yours. Keep the Wildervale safe, protect the waystation. May your path, children of the nomads⌠open to you in time. Fly strong, fly free - Sky Knights.â
It was slowly starting to become a running gag she felt:
Whereâs Illuriel? Oh, you know, the medical ward - where else?The redhead was frustrated with herself and the seemingly endless incapability sheâs showing lately. Sheâs been with the Unit almost a year now, she trained relentlessly and even had her nose in various books about techniques of Battle as well as ones about Magic.
It didnât seem to bear any fruits though. Just a bit over a year ago she was but a civillian: Scrawny, untrained and a liability.And honestly, the sheer amount of times she got a grievous wound during deployments lately, Illuriel didnât feel like she belonged. The biggest fear in her heart currently is getting someone else killed while they try to help her.
And now it happened again - far away from home, not only her Unit counting on her but also others of the Ashen Bulwark.
And she manages to get an explosive detonate in such a close vicinity that her face is badly burnt and miscoloured and the former long and silky hair is history. As well as her eyebrows and eyelashes.âYouâre a joke.â the redhead whispers to herself.
The Skyguard have returned from Campaign with the Ashen Bulwark defensive glad to be away from orange landscapes for a while. Congratulations to Treiller of the Forlorn order for his new appointment as Herald of the Ashen, itâs going to be a fun six months together!
Spread your wings,
Itâs time to fly.
Make the leap.
Own the sky.
The Thalassian Skyguard defend in the skies from all that try to endanger our homes. A unit full of amazing coloured Dragonhawks with their own personalities and great riders to pair with them.
Pray to never cross paths with them or you will see the dangerous side of them all.
The Skyguard have discovered the heritage of the Dragonhawk Riders and learned of waystations scattered across Azeroth. One such waystation lived in the Hinterlands and was once lost to corrupted druids. Taking it upon their shoulders to wrestle the waystation back into the rightful arms of the Dragonhawk riders, they exploded into the scene. With tough fights, friendly fire and corruption rife the Skyguard won! And with it, they proudly saw Iâlen Lavellan their Lieutenant rise as the second Imperator flier in Skyguard history with 100 air to air kills!
Click, boom.
The sound of the shot echoed through the wood, the few birds nearby rose up from their nests and filtered into the sky. The light metal clink clang of shells fall to the gravel, and a distant thud of metal as a target was struck. This sequence of events would continue for several minutes, before the revolvers had to be reloaded. It was personal training day for Noviah, and she had already tested her legs on a fast run, her arms and fists on the dummies, her mind on combat strategy analysis and finally now, honing her skill with the gun, and her eyes.The crate of new shells were opened, loaded into the pistol, which she held with both hands head slanted on a diagonal against her raised shoulder, her breathe withheld as she prepares to stand completely motionless, and then a salvo of bullets cuts through the air like a hot knife through butter. The distant thuds rang out through the air, and she began to make her way, picking up the shells on the path with a heatproof glove, she inspected the target dummies rings.
All bullets had hit in the middle rings, from six to ten, but in order, two in the sixth, two in the seventh, only one in the eighth, four in the nineth, and one at bulls eye. Pleased enough with her result, she grabbed the metal target ring and threw it to her scrap for Malâthadian, before heading back home.
As the weekend started to settle in on the civilian life, there was no such peace to be found for Noviah, however she did hope to find a way to do her duties at Skypeak, and also have a little bit of fun.
Today was the warhawk recreational time, a time to excersize the hawks they bring out to battle, entertain them and give them attention to strengthen bonds and teamwork. Noviah loved to dance, and so did dragonhawks, it was a well known passtime for many of their scaley feathery friends to waltz, and on the final rays of this beautiful friday, Noviah lead a group of warhawks out unto the fields behind Skypeak.
She arranged for a orchestra of enchanted instruements. She placed them strategically around a ring of trees, so that the melodies would swirl and together into a beautiful vortex of harmonies, and then she began the dancing. Hawks rose up and dove down before finding partners, or flourishing their brilliance on their own, the little glade in the woods was soon transformed into the ballroom of Quelâthalasâs finest waltz, in the middle the redhead with her hair free to wind, carrying a flute she played while swinging and swaying herself into the night.
It was a surprisingly rainy evening for Quelâthalas and the ranger didnât mind it one bit. The steady stream of water that surrounded his house seemed to be made more lively by the rain trickling in and the sound energized him. It was like a rhythmic aid to his mind that seemed to flit from sketch to notes and back to sketching again, his quill frantically scratching the lined journalling paper that was laid out infront of him and even when the tip of it split and stained the paper with saturated ink, he continued.
He wished for a design that would replace his bow. Something to reinvent himself - something that incorporated all that he had learned, a style of which he is sure would slot in perfectly with his battle sibling. He needed something sharp, something that could sting. A pair of daggers, perfectly weighted and balanced to his hand. Another splotch of ink splurts from the split point once he writes his final notes and with a deep breath expelled he tears himself away from the paper, holding it up against the faint morning light that shone through the rafters.
He breaks into a wide, wild eyed grin. Wasting no time to roll the parchment up into a scroll sealed by wax. Yes, this would do. This would do perfectly. He raises from where he had sat all night and scrambles to find his work clothes, throwing them on and stumbling into his boots, nearly knocking over a tower of books in his hurry to get dressed. He whistles for Dinoriel as he slings his bag and hunting bow over his shoulder, throwing another look into the room to eye his bed and deciding he was much too restless now and sleep was no longer an option.
It is not long then before he finds himself at Skypeak, quick steps carrying him up to Malâthadianâs forge and that is where he patiently waits for the day to come alive, fingers detangling thick, ginger fur of a sleeping cat by his side.
To the commanding forces of Azeroth both Horde, Alliance and neutral,
Greetings.
By the time you get to this I imagine most of you will be familiar with recent events. If you have not yet had an opportunity to read the reports issued across, I will briefly summarize: Multiple small explosions and craters have appeared across Azeroth, both in Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms, in which, military units were sent to investigate.
These investigations all bare a concerning similarity in the fact that each crater has a piece of legion technology within it. Reports indicate that multiple unknown opportunists have appeared in these areas looking to salvage and retrieve this technology and we can now safely make the conclusion that the origination of these blasts have come from the Broken Isles.
I will allay your fears: This is not a resurgence of the Legion, nor any large known group that that we have had on record and the High Command of Horde, Alliance and even the aid of neutral bodies have combined efforts against what we consider a threat to Azeroth and its inhabitants safety. We intend for this subject to be handled on a united front and as such we are making a call to our most trusted forces to muster.
On the ninth day of the fourth month we entrust that you will take your forces to meet in Dalaran above the Broken Isles. You will be meeting with the Alliance, Horde and neutral bodies with the united task to eliminate the potential threat, nothing good can come from someone tampering with left over Legion Technology. Your first meeting will be in the Chamber of the Guardians - Dalaran- 9th of the fourth month at 21:00 hours.
As per the instructions of High Command of Stormwind and Orgrimmar, the following individuals have been appointed commanders to over see your mission, you will report to them for the duration of these operations: Marshal Jessina Arthor, Captain Crawder of the Ironheart, Knight-Lieutenant Sir Troy Ragnor - Tactician of the 7th Legion, Operative Raevana Mournblade, Commander Deâvontae Autumnvale - Captain of the Thalassian Skyguard and Commander Gwenifer Shadowsworn.
Your troops will be stationed in the faction areas of Dalaran, though bare in mind that Dalaran will not be supplying you for your mission and that you must bring with you the supplies you and your units will need for how ever long this will take.
We trust that you share the concerns that we each have and know that in spite of tensions between factions, we must work together for a greater good and that you are interested in taking corrective action in order to redirect Azeroth back on a course of stability, peace, and the protection of the rights and freedoms of every Citizen.
Yours in service of Azeroth,
Signed High Command of the Horde, High Command of the Alliance, Archmage Runeweaver of the Kirin Tor, High Crusader Adelard.
The Skyguard have been called to arms after facing off against a fel wretched magister in Everson who was after a legion piece of technology that had somehow found its way into a crater into the scorched grove! What could this mean for our brave fliers?