Rowynwen woke up in the grassy meadow dotted by petite, fragrant peaceblooms. Their sunshiny centers grinned at her while a soft breeze ruffled the white petals. In awe, she turned around and saw little pink butterflies lazily flitting around the lush grass and dipping their tiny feet into the clear, bubbling brook that ran off from the Elrendar river. The sky was a deep blue and an occasional cloud would bounce across the heavens like a dancing sheep. With a sigh, she wistfully stared upwards as the sun basked her face in its yellow rays of glory.
The path in which Rowynwen had taken that morning through the meadow to where she lay, was as visible as any trail in freshly fallen snow. The tall grasses, inflexible in their dryness, were flat from the far hedgerow to the canopy of golden woodland leaves. She had chosen to lay here as it was at the time somewhere that she could lay and drink in the shade, but time had passed along with her idle thoughts and now it was once more covered in the trickle of honeyed rays.
Rowynwen marvelled at her path that she had taken, so ragged and bent, not at all the straight line she had imagined herself walking. The wild flowers were a cacophony on the fading green; purple Aethrils, golden clovers, red Telandraâs roses and tall Foxflowers with their yellow centres. There was no coordination in the field unlike the displays of the city, all meticulously planned out and preserved with magic, Rowynwenâs field was just a free-for-all choreographed by the wind.
As the daylight moved across the skies the tension in Rowynwenâs body grew. Pipper should have been back by now, the Captain had promised that the golden Dragonhawks important mission wouldnât take long. She looked over to the small house with its single room, eyes drifting to the small kettle still whistling with boiled water sat on the stove, waiting to be poured into the tea leaves she had no intention of drinking and her eyes kept darting back to the kissing gate at the edge of the field that refused to open. Her ears kept imagining the haughty cries of the small Dragonhawk as she scolded Rowynwen for taking down the winterâs veil ornaments or the happy toots sheâd give when she caught herself reflected in the hanging shards of glass around the house.
Pushing herself up, Rowynwen pulled back her halo of wispy orange strands and tugged them into her high tail securing it with a familiar emerald coloured silk scarf, taking from her lapel the hair clip he had given her. It was rather simple to look at from a far but a keen eye would notice the careful handmade detail in it, how the golden metal has small engravings and how it twists and coils around the gem sat upon it. The gem glimmers in the light catching not just the jade that had been cut into a non-distinct shape, but also the specks of blue and yellow encased Azerite that coiled in a frozen dance. Pushing the clip into her hair to keep her floppy ginger fringe from her face, Rowynwen began to run.
Her feet kissed the land with barely a sound, her anxiety for Pipper left on the hearth, her heart swelling at the cold touch of the hairpin and singing the words of his letter. âThese last few days have reminded me of how fragile everything can be - and of how fortunate we are to be able to spend time with those who matter most.â
Perhaps a little while ago, Rowynwen would have balked at the idea of being so close to someone, but now it caused a gentle heat to dust her cheeks. Her feet continued to drum the grass at speed, as light as the paws of a lioness. Her breathing was steady, heart strong and slowly her worries bled away as they always did when she was able to push her body to the conditioned limits it was used to from the jungles and wilds of Kalimdor. Her small form was like that of the winter breeze colliding into inanimate objects and crashing waves hitting the shore line. Like eagles soaring across indigo skies and a herd of Zevrah racing through the verdant meadows. Her long, citrus coloured locks whipped back and forth behind her like a fiery tale as she flung herself over tree trunks and the lowered washing line.
With each stretch of her legs she recalled her time since returning to the High Home, how she had joined the Skyguard, how she had become bonded to Cloudsinger whoâs wings carried her like a kite through the stars. How she had slowly gained friends in the unlikeliest of people, from a man with a Ravager, to a giant and his furnace, to the silver haired elf that caused her knees to weaken with every smile. She was no longer just Rowynwen Holly Hawkwing from when she had arrived, but was now Dryad, Skyguard and trusted secretary to the Captain of the Skyguard.
Sweat trickled and gleamed down her arm where the reddish brown metal of vines hugged her tricep, hiding the grey patches of skin beneath and slowly a bright smile over took her features. Pipper would be fine, she was no longer the fragile creature she was when they met and neither was Rowynwen!
Rowynwen came to a stop beside a row of young silver birches that contained several training targets and with heavy breathing she took several measured steps back. She had given up training these last few weeks, too busy baby sitting Aura or handling paperwork, but with the resolute reminder that was why she was doing this, she raised her hands. She had to perfect this school of magic for him to be free of the burden of his shadows and she would not let him down.
Contorted fingers spasm and flex experimentally, emerald eyes half lidded and crimson lips moving slowly over the litany of runes and incantations. Slowly a small white light appeared between her hands cast in an opaque purple backdrop; itâs sharp formation growing and becoming larger. When the small star had become the size of a fist, Rowynwen brought back her hands and thrust forward, sending the magic keening towards the training dummy. Again and again until her hands were raw and the sun had begun to set, she kept trying and was only brought back to reality and to stopped due to the little girls voice that called out from the kissing gate âRoowrooow!â
Wiping sweat from her forehead, her heart swelled to see Aura and Iâlen standing there waving. It was these two that had inspired her so fervently to cause the training marks on the birch trees to become smouldering craters. She would perfect this
for them.
After having returned from his second prolonged deployment with the Skyguard - Telahn had more time to reflect to himself. He had contributed little to the Dragonhawk Island, and felt himself to be in a bit of a slump. His major contribution lay with providing edible food for everyone. Whilst he did still find some degree of pleasure in doing so, he still felt that he was perhaps letting the team down. He had however, managed to briefly strike with Sunspyre - perhaps a sign that a friendship could be achieved. He had been told by the Captain that such a trip was there for them all to become friends with their peers. But he had ultimately failed, only really befriending two more. He didnât have the heart to tell the Captain, though.
After returning from the expedition, he had decided that the best bonding exercise he could have with Vesperal would be to go through something neither of them were particularly suited for; people. He spoke with Felicia, and alongside Nymira - allowed his closest friends outside of the Skyguard - Anistia, Quollon, and Lady Whitemoon - to meet the Dragonhawks up close. It had been a surreal experience for all of them, and he felt a surging sense of pride for his bonded. And in truth, for himself as well.
For their next task as a unit, they were assigned a training session, in which Telahn acted as the Wing Leader - the Litwing. He wouldâve preferred any other name, but it was a nervewracking experience. He tried his best to discuss the plan before the assault run, even if it was just on dummies. Slowly but surely, Vesperal would grant him true confidence in the sky. He had felt proud of his accomplishment during that training run, no matter how small it had seemed to others. If he ever intended to make it as an Ace, or even the Sky Warden - then this was just a small step in the right direction.
In finality, Telahn had also been accepted into a rehabilitation programme for the young rescued Dragonhawks from their excursion. He was tasked with caring for Icarus, a small and haphazard Silver who was very eager to break the rules and pick fights with bits of shrubbery. He had spent the initial day sticking very much to the regulations of cleaning, bathing, and feeding young Icarus - playing with his small friend and understanding how Icarus wanted things to work.
He had been granted a few toys here and there to help out, but decided that day two would then be the day where training began. Sticking to a very regimented schedule for feeding, walks and keeping an active fire crystal on their person at all times. Every time Icarus would go to do something he probably shouldnât do, Telahn was there to talk him out of it. At first allowing the action, and then talking retroactively, before moving to a more active denial. Trying to pander to Icarus by saying âWith such a regal and fancy name, you donât want to act like some rebel. Nobodyâs going to respect you if you do that.â And other small comments. Though Telahn doesnât find any answer or countermeasure to Icarusâ desire to burn every bush.
(Again, sorry - still restricted from posting on Telahn!)
The night had drawn its inky caress over Eversong, the woodlands silence broken by the rather rambuncious song of the Skyguards Bard and her beloved partner. The evenings training had left her coated from head to toe in various coloured paints and two golden stars stuck to her bruised face, creating a rather unusual sight to see this late.
As they neared the house of her parents, the pair took a moment to ready themselves for the chaos that would ensue. It was Rath who braved the door first, greeted by the pitter patter of an excited elven child no older than three âRath, Mama! Did you get it? Did yoooou geeeeet iiiit?â the child practically buzzed with excitement since the prior evening when her mother had sat her down and explained the hatchling training plan.
It was this moment that Vanra had predicted as the sound of chittering emmited from her bag, in a rush of colour and blur of elven infant, the house filled with giggles and shrieks of joy, chittering and crashing and then⌠the dreaded âVanra Dawnfeather, did you bring home one of those damned hawks?!â the low booming vocals of her father sent a shiver down her spine. Shooting her gaze to Rath who stood as deathly silent as she, the pair resigned themselves to the incoming lecture.
-Mistbrook, early evening-
The wind ruffled Aelevieâs hair as she bent low over the saddle, entirely incapable of keeping a broad grin off her face. She was used to flying; she had flown plenty of times around Silvermoon and the coastline, even before her enlistment into the Sinâdorei military had taken her far farther afield. But this, this felt like flying anew, the sky as her domain rather than a space she occupied for the time being.
Their domain.
A contented cooing came from below her, Fineas spreading his wings a little wider and coasting more sedately through the air. The large blue dragonhawk was perfectly at ease in the sky, and seemed to be relishing the enjoyment his newly bonded rider was taking in their now-daily sojourns. As the last rays of the sun made their way towards the horizon, he blended more and more with the evening sky, the oil-like pearlescence of his plumage and scales still an enchanting sight to Aelevie.
Sensing her thoughts Fineas trilled and swept into a wide bank, taking them around the tower a second time. Despite herself Aelevie could not help but giggle, something she had not done for at least two, maybe even three decades at the least; the combination of the new freedom in the sky and gentlemanly confidence of the dragonhawk put her more at ease than she had been in a long time.
Eventually, and with more than a little reluctance on both sides, she steered Fineas down to land. She was met by a familiar face, as Arenis Windgaze detached himself from the shadows against the towers wall. As she unstrapped herself from the flying harness, Aelevie caught her minder and mount exchanging a momentary, unblinking stare. As soon as it began the silent exchange was over and Arenis incline his head with eyes lowered, followed a moment later by a bowing motion from Fineas.
âI trust you two are acquainted and amiable?â Aelevie said, boots finally touching the ground.
âOf course, maâam,â Arenis replied a faint smile. âAll dragonhawks are noble beings, and I can rest assured that any one that has bonded with you has only your best interests at heart.â
âNot a conflict of interests, then?â she quipped back. Arenis was one of the few elves she would tolerate calling her âmaâamâ, or the traditional âmy girlâ they had brought with them from the unit they had first been assigned together. Sun above, that feels like a lifetime ago , she thought.
Arenisâ smile only grew a little wider, pausing to reach up and rest a hand on Fineasâ beak. The dragonhawk seemed quite content, coiling his tail and wings and beginning to doze as the pair spoke. âNot at all. The bond between dragonhawk and flyer is special, far more important than that between rider and handler.â
âAnd yet you chose to come with me, when by all accounts you could have stayed with the AerieâŚ?â
Aelevie left the question hanging. Arenis lifted his hand, letting Fineas coil himself fully, before shrugging and settling with both hands clasped behind his back, prim and proper as any footman or house butler that Aelevie had ever seen in her time.
âI have never abandoned a living flyer in all my years. I see no reason to buck the trend now, maâam.â
âI am quite sure there is more to it than that.â
âPerhaps.â
âI am also fairly sure that, no matter how much I press you on the matter, you will not tell meâŚ?â
âNot until I feel the need to, no.â That thin-lipped smile again, far more reserved than the twinkle in the older elfâs eye.âFor a so-called manservant you can be quite the pest, Arenis. You know that?â
âBut of course, maâam. Would you have it any other way?â he shot back.Aelevie ran her hand down Fineasâ flank, raising a contented trill from the dragonhawk.
âNo. No, I suppose not.â
Teaser for Chapter five now live on argent archives of Devontaes extended backstory. Follow the link below to see the full story and the last four chapters.
https://www.argentarchives.org/node/246355
I open my eyes each morning to the warm breath of the sun by passing the cracks of the wall. I lay there upon the floor of salvaged blankets and pillows watching the dust motes trickle down from the ceiling, dancing with one another and gracefully kissing the floor in the shadows. I tilt my head and there I see her face sweet and untroubled propped against a pillow with hair of ebon locks curled across porcelain smooth skin. Her long lashes speckled with spheres of water from the night terrors that haunt and often keep her from finding peace. That is my sight each morning since moving into a run down building with Lorilae. It still shook me how we had ended up in this situation, boy and girl sharing the home of a dead family with a Dragonhawk and an egg.
We had begun meeting up every morning two years ago when Baesh had disappeared where Lorilae would bring me food in a basket and fresh clothes and I would in turn listen to her troubles from home. Her father and mother were arguing often that year about the right path of following Kaelâthas to Outlands or remaining at home and what it would mean for Lorilae. She expressed to me her anger and frustration upon hearing her future being decided for her and how it didnât seem to matter about what she wanted. Although I listened, I couldnât help but feel a sense of envy that someone cared enough about where Lorilae was and what was safest for her, let alone two people who then felt so strongly theyâd argue about it.
We spent six months going back and forth with our small meetings. Lorilae sneaked out of her large home, whilst I left a building I had found abandoned, to come to the walls of Falconwing Square and talk for hours upon end. Our feet dangling haphazardly over the edges of the walls, eyes watching the increasingly empty square and the hurried figures leaving in carts or wandering around waiting for the next meeting. When the sun hung low over the horizon we would pack up our small pack of stolen food scraps and hug each other tight like it was the last time weâd see each other, always asking the same thing âSo you will be here tomorrow Dev?â âI will be waiting, just donât leave me waiting for too long.â âAnd leave you alone with yourself? Never.â And then I would watch her scamper away, her dark halo like will-o-wisps of smoke flying behind her before making my way back to Stargrazer.
The day it changed for the worse was the day that Lorilae didnât come to the wall.
The Skyguard are proud to be celebrating their first year anniversary this Saturday - https://www.argentarchives.org/node/246389 ! If youâve got the time why not pop by?
The dull light from outside mottled across the walls of the small room, fading and brightening with the passing of the clouds. Outside there was distant bustle, the occasional call of a Dragonhawk and the general sound of Mistbrook at work. Inside there was serenity, no noise besides the scratch of a quill on parchment and, from time to time, a quiet humming as Aelevie Dawnsong worked away.
The door to the quarter opened and shut smoothly, before boots click-clacked over the floorboards towards the elf and her desk.
âThank you, Arenis,â Aelevie said without looking up, as a glass was set down beside her.
âMaâam,â Arenis Windgaze replied, stepping back a pace and settling into his normal stance, back poker straight and hands folded neatly behind his back. Waiting a moment while she set down her quill, he eventually asked âYou plan to excuse yourself from the celebrations tomorrow?â
Aelevie took a sip from the red glass â only berry juice, rather than wine â before replying.
âYes. A part of me does want to partake-â
âThen why not attend?â Arenis arched an eyebrow, before bowing his head slightly. âForgive me for the unusual interruption, but I do feel you owe yourself some down time as well.â
Aelevie smiled, shaking her head.
âI do not intend to overwork myself, do not worry. But,â she paused long enough to sigh, âI really find myself most at ease away from parties.â
Arenis nodded slightly, moving to the window and staring out at nothing in particular.
âYou do not talk much about home and the past, maâam.â He was rewarded with a small scoffing laugh.
âAnd you do?â
âWell, yes, you have me there, quite rightly,â Arenis closed his eyes as he chuckled. He kept quiet for a moment, judging the path of the conversation. He did not have too long to wait.
âYou know the background I come from. I am sure you can intuit from that, if nothing else?â Aelevie shook her head, taking another sip of her drink.
âI am sure I could manage a wild stab in the dark,â Arenis said with a wry smile, âWhich, I am fairly sure, is what you might wish upon some of those encountered in the past?â
âHa!â Aelevie drained the glass, setting it down with perhaps a little more force than one should with a fragile container. After a moment to make sure nothing was going to shatter, she sat back with a sigh.
âI am quite sure a party with your comrades would be a markedly different affair,â Arenis continued, a little more soothingly.
âI am sure as well. And yet⌠old habits die hard.â Aelevie looked up, giving her handler a wry, almost apologetic little smile. âI do not want to be a burden or a drain on the mood.â
For a fleeting moment Arenis looked like he might press the point, an uncharacteristic uncertainty flitting across his features. If Aelevie noticed she said nothing, having already turned back to her quill and parchment, and the handler settled for a nod and letting the topic drop as he turned to head out.
âI shall at least take the liberty of making sure Fineas is saddled up on the day. There is, after all, no reason you cannot enjoy yourself with some flying, no?â
Aelevie smiled, as the quill scratched away. âThat is true. Thank you, Arenis.â
âMaâam.â
Today is a rather special day amongst the Thalassian Skyguard in the fact weâve made it our first year as a guild. Many people might scoff that itâs just one year. But the first year is always the hardest, it is when you are finding yourselves, the story you want to share, finding people who want to share it with you, finding a way to make things work and realising when it doesnât. It hasnât been smooth sailing all of the time and there are always going to be people who we lost along the way that I regret loosing and the way it ended. But I wouldnât have taken back ever having had them and the memories they shared with us to make us who we are.
I am so lucky to have the people in this guild who share with me every day the struggles, the laughters and the memories. From Iâlen, my fantastic friend and second in command who has been my shoulder to vent rant cry and laugh on, to Vaelath who even after nearly ten years of friendship hasnât got fed up with me even though I am sure he could have. Ranthos who even though we had our struggles remains a constant beacon of fluffy hope to the guild with an underlay of british dry wit. malâthadian who has been my defender and protector like a bear. Leynwa who has had the most struggle this year and I couldnât be prouder to know - he inspires me every day. Sylestra who has shown you can chase your dreams even if the world is falling apart. Noviah who without id likely have less stress lines from league of legends but would definitely have less laughs. Felicia - look how far youâve come! From someone who was just tagging along on our drink nights to one of our best guild members. Gaxxius who I could never have thought would have become so close to me and the core of this guild, off being a real soldier and making us all look bad. Velindria, a friend from years ago that came back into this game and Iâve been so happy to have around! Aravae; an absolute delight that giggle snorts her way through our events and our down time causing everyone to laugh with her - a ray of sunshine. Levie the apologiser - weâve been through a lot since we met and yet here we still are and you make it a better place for your presence. Sunspyre who has been my agony aunt and me hers - two peas in a pod we are and I love it. Litlauss - from death to life you have swarmed this guild and thrived in it with your beautiful writing and caring heart. Tyrenas who even in his absence always keeps his eye out for me. And finally Lexi and lali- you are my most treasured infiltrating spies. Thank you all xx
I couldnât have asked for a better year - and the amazing opportunities Argent Dawn and itâs fabulous community has given us. To be so accepted and to be approached for collaborative efforts or large campaigns - itâs been a wild ride.
So thank you to you all. And happy birthday Skyguard. Tonight we are celebrating our birthday in game with a fun planned evening where we get to give back to the people who helped make this a reality. Come on down if you have the time we are running from 19:30-midnight; just bring yourself and a silly hat!https://www.argentarchives.org/node/246389
Congratulations to the Skyguard for celebrating their first birthday as an independant guild. Iâve only been in it for 3-ish weeks and I already feel fully welcome, though itâs surreal and unusual to me that Iâd be included in the celebrations/heartfelt messages so soon.
Iâve had the pleasure of knowing some of the more veteran members since some of the early days of the Sun Hawks. I think Iâve done a fairly bang-up job in maintaining friendships with those people and in slowly branching out to the others (success rate may vary).
Hereâs to another year for the Skyguard which I hope to still be a part of. Much love to all of you - even those Iâm not friends with yet. It will happen. Thank you for making the introduction of this character so special for me.
- Wiskerville/Litlauss
Congratulations on your anniversary! I look forward to hear/see this occuring for the next millenias! 
And thank you for adding to our joyous Roleplay community on Horde side of Argent Dawn!
Thank you to everyone who came to help us celebrate our Skyguardversary! Here is a link to our high lights of the event! https://www.argentarchives.org/node/246541
A fantastic event with a lot of fun had by all, keep up the great work skyguard!
The Thalassian Skyguard are currently out in Dragonblight with the Ashen Bulwark collective facing off series of scourge invasions. Why is the scourge returning? Where did they go? And what does this mean? Only time will tell!
Tonight we make our final stand with the Ashen Bulwark against the massing Scourge in the frozen north! Itâs been a lot of fun hanging out with the guilds there and being able to explore the old content again. But we are looking forward to returning to the high home and getting back into our usual RP around Silvermoon and with the guilds that have been waiting to do collabs with us!
He slams into the ground. His hammer skittering across the ground out of each as the blood begins to seep from the rents in his armour, his body beaten and blood. His will cracking as he struggles to hold off the weight of his own armour pressing down into his body. He struggles, one hand, two, a knee. He pushes him self up to kneel. His hands shacking as he pushes him self up, facing those who assail him.
He cracks his neck, his one eye settling on those before him, only four now, the broken bodies of seven others lie stroon about the chamber. He looks out the corner of his eye to his hammer laying on the ground, one of the figures moves to block his path, shaking their head. âNo more of that, Malâthadian. Now we are in control.â
The other three circle around the giant elf as Malâthadian tracks their movements his hands coming up in a defensive manner his hands balling into fists as the stalk around him like hunting beasts. The sound in the cavern is clinging and suffocating, the sound of their padding feet the only sound, aside from his shallow breathing in his helm, and his heart hammering in his chest.
The quiet is broken by an ear splitting cry, the sound of something very large and very angry coming into the cavern, the light all but blocked out from the entrance as the creature streaks into the cavern, great iron scales catching the last of the moonlight. Malâthadian laughs, it his not a happy or joyful sound. âSeems my Iron Lady has something to say about you trying to kill me.â
Rivatha, Malâthadians giant silver dragonhawk swoops into the cavern, her massive wings buffeting the ground and sending dust and grit into the air, one of the smaller assailants to his right is blown from her feet by the sheer force of Rivathas arrival. Two of the remaining attackers turning and raising their hands, arcane energies begin to crackle from their hands as the chant through incantations quickly. They falter, the magics they are trying to summon flickering out. Runes glowing, arcane energies crackling down his right arm, outstretched towards the two casters, Malâthadian grins, the Spellbreakers aura choking out the magic.
The female who was cast to the ground by Rivathas entrance staggers to her feet. âYou fools! You know what my Brother is!â Malâthadians head snaps around to speaker, a low growl escaping him. "Lilaâiana ⌠" His voice a murderous threat. As she pulls her hood back, face slightly tanned like his, runes tattooed all across all exposed skin of her body, she smiles. âDear Brother ⌠How have you been?â
Malâthadian is bowled off his feet by the one he lost focus on that was between him and his hammer, they both begin to wrestle and try and get the upper hand on each other. âBring down that flapping gecko before it ruins this!â Lilaâiana and the two others begin to focus their energies, two crackle with arcane, Lilaâiana drawing the shadows around her, her form darkening as the shadows seep into her eyes her hands twisting into talons.
Malâthadian clenches his right fist, the two hidden blades mounted in his wrist slipping free and plunging into the chest of his attacker, a gurgling grunt escaping the assailant as he falls limp on the ground. Malâthadian turns, getting to his feet turning to face the remaining three.
But it was enough time, two spears of ice, as long as he is tall fly through the air with a clap of displaced air and one tendril of shadow, spearing forward. All three find their mark, sinking deep and through the mighty form of the Iron Lady, Rivatha lets out a strangled scream of agony and anger as her great form limps and ploughs into the ground, tumbling end of end, sound of bones snapping, stones and dust thrown into the air, before her mighty body stills.
Malâthadian sits bolt up right in bed, screaming at the top of his lungs the sound of pure pain and loss, this goes on for almost a minute, his hands clutched to either side of his head. He stops, his breathing ragged, sharp and wet. Slowly he begins to realise where he is, in his forge. In Mistbrook. He was safe ⌠It was not real. He looks down, and freezes. The wounds he suffered in his dream, in his vision, where stark red lines on his chest and arms. He looks around his forge in sheer panic, jumping from his bed and again, freezing. Stood in the door to his forge is a form, a female form, with a soft smile on her face. âI told you I would be coming for you ⌠Little brother.â She turns, stepping through a rip in reality, it snaps closed.
He falls to his knees, no even his friends and new family are safe. Someone is going to die. He gets up, running, no boots, through the darkness, towards the Rookery.
Bumping to remind everyone this is the bestest aerial combat guild on Argent Dawn.
Glory to the sinâdorei!
Thank you! Inserts knife
Coldshade kinda susâŚ
Thanks for the RP tonight, Skyguard!
Thank you Skyguard for being amazing these past couple of days, we had great fun interacting with you all!
The army of Quelâthalas. 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 Quelâdorei 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 Sinâdorei 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.
Deâvontae had been given the word from a Renâdorei 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 thereâs 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, thereâd be nowhere to run. Deâvontae would offer the Renâdorei 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 isnât a fair fight, but isnât that a strange concept? Deâvontae always leaned toward short and brutal to curb the fatalities, maximize the fear and thus the high homes power base. After all, whatâs 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. Thereâd be no escape this time.
The first part of their plan worked without issue. The screams of pain and fear from the Quelâdorei were like some horror films music, piercing and shrill as they tried to pepper the Skyguard with their arrows.
âPull back around and join the Sanguine Eye!â
âRoger that Captain!â
âCantrip, Wolvar, Sunny, see to the rangers on the wall.â
âUnderstood.âDeâvontae leapt from Skylarkâs 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 Sinâdoreiâs faces were unreadable, no fear, no invitational smirk.
In that instant the two forces flew at each other. The Quelâdorei no doubt expect it to be five on one, over in a bloody flash and then they go back to their quarry. But things donât go their way, not at all. The grass stains darkly with the flow from the two sides. Deâvontae 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. Deâvontae knew that only one would walk away from this. His opponent charged with a mighty cry. Deâvontae 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 Deâvontaeâs sword with a resounding âclangâ. 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 - Deâvontae was a master opportunist. Slowly, Deâvontae however was tiring. âIf I am to die, I shall fight to the last breath.â 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 attackâŚ
It hit, tethered on with a fragment of snared cloth and Deâvontae paid for it once more taking point blank another slam of arcane to his chest along with the iron shield. Groaning Deâvontae hauled himself up spitting out grass and pulled back, careful to avoid the fight of Iâlen on his left and the Overseer on his right. He then set to cast arcane fire, sending it straight to the arrow ⌠BOOM! The Quelâdorei was on the ground blood spitting like a fountain from his wound.
Deâvontae 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 Deâvontae hitting him back and trying to stab at him. Deâvontae grabbed at plate, then flesh trying to get the rampaging man off of him, his fanged teeth finding a hold on Fingolâs 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 Erinyrâs 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.
âRUN!â
âPull back! The Division are here!â
âThe wh-⌠THEYâVE GOT HORSES!â
Deâvontae spat blood and yelled into his communicator, ordering his men back out of the fight. Then he saw them⌠the Renâdorei⌠trying to run in the confusion of the battle. âFelreaver, Cantrip, Isabrae bring down that shield.â
âWhere are you going Captain?â
âSunny with me. Weâre going huntingâŚâ
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)