Attached to a noticeboard a short walk from Hammerfall’s inn, the poster - written in black runes of Orcish - reads as follows:
Attention! Blacksmith Wanted!
The Blood Knights of Quel’Thalas have come into possession of several blades of quel’dorei design. Ample payment to be provided to any local smith skilled enough to break the weaponry down into loose components and metal ingots for easy transport.
Ask for Knight Falanor at the inn for further details.
Can you not 
kill knight falanor
Love these folks, 10/10 would eliminate Elementals with them again.
After a very engaging adventure to Arathi - Bladewing is back to Silvermoon! You can find us in the city, roaming about, should you wish to join our not-so-noble ranks. A reminder, however, that as of now, we accept only blood knights!
See you in Silvermoon!
Attached to several noticeboards throughout Silvermoon City, the message - written in both Thalassian and Orcish runes - reads as follows:
Several training opportunities are currently available to any civilian interested in:
Increasing their physical strength and mobility;
Learning to wield a melee weapon, or increase their skill with said weapon;
Learning to ride a horse and/or courser, or learning to ride them through extreme circumstances.
Training to be provided by one of a number of blood knights. Payment to be agreed on a case-by-case basis.
Contact Knight Erandith Falanor for further enquiries.
A singular piece of parchment can be seen attached to numerous noticeboards within both Silvermoon City. Transcribed in Thalassian, it reads as follows:
To whomever may require any forms of close protection services in the near future.
There are several opportunities currently available to hire the Blood Knights of Silvermoon for your safeguarding needs. You can expect seasoned veterans of the Order to:
- Provide physical and magical protection to a group or individual, shielding them from any potential harm and ensure their safety by any means necessary;
- Be present at a site that requires protection from a variety of hostile threats;
- Whenever necessary, maintain effective and efficient security coverage over a prolonged period of time.
Seek out Knight-Champion Valteryl Dawnfold at the Hall of Blood for further questions.
Great to see you back!
The brotherhood are now back home in Silvermoon City, after having a rare chance to revisit the haunting scenery of the Ghostlands. The fate of the missing rangers they sought could not have been avoided, and the experience has given a few individuals much to think on.
There will not be much time for rest and relaxation however, as they prepare to make ready their blades for a new foe.
Pacing in the halls of the Magister’s residence was loud enough for its inhabitants to wake up, as the blood knight’s armoured boots made every plank on the floor creak as he passed. It was dark, shortly past midnight, as the stars lit up the white roses in the hanging basket just outside of the window. Maddening rumblings came from the personal chambers of the Arcanist as Valteryl - in his hasty pacing - studied picturesque drawings; more specifically, portraits.
Those were Larental’s family: parents, siblings and children, all immortalised on the canvas by an unnamed artist. The Blood Knight studied each of them with a passing glance and a frown, especially the children, as the Magister finally left his study.
“Are you mad or desperate? You think they will turn a blind eye to all of your transgressions?!” he snapped, looking at the Knight-Champion.
Valteryl’s armoured hand gently picked up a boy’s portrait, no older than ten, as he faced Larental. “Tell me,” he started quietly, “how many children do you have?”
The Magister immediately frowned as he folded his arms. “Two.” he answered.
“And are they well?” the Knight asked.
“Yes.”
With a brief and gentle smile, the Blood Knight returned the portrait to the shelf before giving it a last glance. He then shifted his attention back onto Larental’s worried stance.
“To you, those are my transgressions. To me, it is a list of service to the High Home.” he stated.
“You ARE mad!” replied the Magister, panting as he spoke.
Not a second later, Valteryl smashed his fist against the door frame in anger, leaving several cracks in the wood. Larental retreated a step, recoiling at the Knight’s sudden fury. A high-pitched squeak escaped from around the corner, just beyond their view. They both diverted their attention, only to find a little girl with sky-like blue eyes and long ears stood behind it, trembling in fear.
In desperation, Larental charged towards the kid with the soothing words, promising that all was well, for there was no danger. Yet, immediate horror struck Valteryl, as he realised what he had done. Closing his eyes in shame, he picked up his winged battle-worn helmet from the table, before moving past the Magister and the child. He threw one last glance over his shoulder, studying the arcanist for a moment before stating:
“Our cause is a choice for you. For me, there is no going back.”
It’s been a quiet few weeks of much needed R&R for the knights (and companions) of Bladewing, but by no means has it been unproductive.
Within the confines of the Sunfury Spire, the intriguing artifact stolen from the grasp of the elves of Highvale Lodge is being studied at length. Whether it is a mere trinket or may have grander applications, perhaps in war, remains to be seen, but it won’t be long until they must once again leave the comfort of home behind in order to protect it from another lurking threat.
A big thank you to:
The Thalassian Skyguard: [Belf-RP] Thalassian Skyguard 
and the Azure Dawn: [A-RP] Azure Dawn - High/Void Elf RP
For being brilliant allies and enemies, respectively! The RP-PvP was thoroughly enjoyed, and has certainly given us a lot of additional RP as a result. Hoping to see more of both in the near future for more adventures!
If Liadrin’s finest are needed on a battlefield near you, give us a holler! We’re always eager to draw blades in defence of High Home and the Horde!
After a crazy incursion into Caer Darrow’s dungeons - some members of Bladewing are finally resting after the trouble that was - and perhaps still is! - brewing within its tainted halls.
You can normally find us in Silvermoon this week, should you wish to bring up something to the table! See you all in-game! 
“Let me outta here! This place reeks!”
It’s shrill voice carried far across an otherwise quiet evening in the Eversong Woods. The branches of trees older than even he swayed gently in the breeze rolling in from the western coast, and the clip-clop, clip-clop of his charger’s hooves against the white cobblestone path made for sleepy listening. When combined with the rocking motion of a relaxed pace, Erandith could have found himself drifting off.
And he likely would have, had it shut it’s mouth for more than five seconds.
“What you got against the little guy?!” the imp screeched, the enchanted sack that contained it doing little to muffle the high-pitched noise. “All I did was have some fun!”
“You killed a stablehand.” Erandith grumbled miserably in response, “I’d hardly call that a party.”
“Ah, c’mon. It was an accident!” it cried, “He snuck up on me! I was just walking around, looking for some magic. Next thing I know he’s screaming ‘HAIR!’ and ‘FIRE!’ and ‘HELP!’”
He stared dull-eyed at the road ahead. Sun above, these creatures get more intolerable with each encounter.
“How was I supposed to know he wasn’t FLAME RESISTANT?! I am!”
“This isn’t whatever horrid, fel-barren rock that you call home.” the Knight snapped back, twisting in the saddle to glare at the writhing bag. “Whatever chaos you sprang from doesn’t hold sway, here.”
“I was miserable back home until Red brought me here – it was the BEST!” it squeaked gleefully. “But I didn’t get to do any of the torturing…”
The wretched creature went quiet for a few moments, much to Erandith’s surprise. His elven ears perked up as if hope were made visible. Turning back to the road, he-
“I know!” it suddenly exclaimed. It’s voice rose as the Knight’s ears drooped. “You could be my NEW master!”
“Oh no,” Erandith started, “I know what you’re-“
“Azalop and Shiny Guy! Think about it!” it bargained, “Red was weak – and I mean WEAK - but you and me? We could take this world, make it better! You want power? What about SHINY treasures, huh?! You like that? I’ll help you get it all! We could-“
His gauntlet rattled as it struck the cloth-covered lump at the back of his horse, cutting the creature off mid-sentence. It took a few moments before, on cue, it piped up again.
“Was that REALLY necessary?!” it exclaimed.
Erandith turned back to face the road as a small, satisfied smile crept onto his tired face. “The only world you need concern yourself with is inside that sack.” he said, “At least, until we return you to the Magistrix.”
“GAH!” the imp screeched, “You’re so DULL. It’s INSUFFERABLE!”
The clop-clop of his charger’s hooves trotting against the stone were like music to his ears. The finest lute or harp player in Quel’Thalas could not best the majesty of the quiet peace now returned to the enchanted woodland. He exhaled deeply as his eyes closed, enjoying the moment of respite.
But it didn’t last long.
“Do you have any more olives? I’m STARVING!” the imp cried.
I have heard nothing but good things about the Bladewing, although I’ve never had close interactions with them personally. The simplicity of the concept and the camraderie that the promotes appeals to me greatly, the focus on character is evident and to my mind and as someone from afar they stand out as an excellent example of roleplay.
“Remember our vengeful pledge, unyielding and eternal…”
Valteryl opened his eyes; sweat drops slid down his temples. A disturbing nightmare was an unwelcoming surprise in his opulent yet empty manor. The Blood Knight slowly raised himself to take a deep sigh. Yet another sleepless night that left his mind less than resolute.
There was little to remember about it: creatures of antediluvian evil, Void and Fel, descended onto the man’s mind, spurred on by the idea of grandiose torture. Then there were his former brothers-at-arms, who stood guard at the fallen Prince’s last bastion - Magisters’ Terrace. But instead of what was asked of them, the Blood Knight’s fellow brethren assaulted the man, desecrating ancient soil with betrayal and madness. “Traitor!” they yelled, “Coward!” more whispers added. Their laughing and wailing ceased only when he opened his eyes to awaken from the terror.
A hard knock on the outer door echoed through the cobwebbed house. Valteryl shook his head as he swiftly pushed himself off the edge of the bed, grabbing a crimson robe from his chair.
As he opened the door, it came by more unforeseen surprise that Magister Larenthal was the one visiting.
“Emberblood? What do you want?” Valteryl asked rather quietly as he rubbed his left eye.
“Remember our vengeful pledge, Dawnfold, unyielding and eternal.” Larenthal spoke as he instantaneously drove a knife into Valteryl’s stomach. A sharp pain immediately overtook the man as he fell onto the ground, bleeding rapidly while Magister stood over him, melting into a void-twisted beast.
A sharp scream pervaded the bedroom as Valteryl nearly fell off his bed, scarcely managing to stay on top. He immediately looked onto his sweat-soaked hands and then grasped onto the wound he felt to be so real. But to no avail, as there was none. Enraged, the Blood Knight took a tome from his nightstand, tossing it across the bedroom with an accompaniment of audible despair as it landed onto the dusty floor.
It was yet another sleepless night.
The knights and companions of Bladewing met once more beneath the fading light of the Eternal Sun and as usual, it was not without an entertaining debate or two!
Soon, they move to make the best of the ongoing peace by making new friends, allies and, potentially, trading relationships. After all, the best thing to do in such times is to prepare for an uncertain future. Peace never lasts, even in the enchanted home of the elves.
Life is a prison and death is a door
We are always willing to open doors for those in need!
This world… is a prison.
I know a few elves that would be happy to send her to the next, were she not there already!
The brotherhood has returned to High Home following their first ‘trading mission’ in the Hillsbrad Foothills, working alongside Forsaken allies to prepare for the battles to come. Passions have run high and there is certainly plenty to debate between members, but it’s not the first time that has happened and definitely won’t be the last.
suuuuuuuure…