[PCU] Worgen/Night Elf RP - Dirge of Teldrassil 🌳

[Frostvine-argent-dawn]

It was when Casden and Yandra were headed back to Westfall Brigade Encampment when it happened. An orc came running up the road, looking bloodied and battered. He was fleeing. Yandra stood frozen in her tracks for a moment, until Casden had shifted to his worgen form and begun battling the orc.
She snapped out of it, changing into a crow to ravage the orc with her talons. Though, this one was powerful, not standing down even when outnumbered. Another pair of men would soon join the Dirge, seeking to help out in ending the threat.
The orc sought to grasp Yandra’s throat and she let out a distressed croak. She felt her eyes rolling back into her skull, gasping for breath as darkness began blurring her vision. Though, she could not fall now. There were still things she wanted to do and achieve. She could not die to an orc of all things. It would be a mockery.

Yandra gathered focus and opened her piercing gaze. Her eyes had always been a pale silver, but recently they had started to shift in color. There was a faint hue of amber in them, and now an advancing rage. The young druid felt her bones crack and her frame grow. She had taken the wildkin form and shed any sense of her former self. A primal fury drove her now. She grasped the orc around his neck in turn by her great ursine paw, sinking her claws into his throat. The tables had turned, now it was the orc who would suffer.

She remembered little of the fight when it was over. Her memories felt as parchment stained with water. It was difficult to make out what they depicted. She only recalled a nasty crunch and an awful smell. Still, she felt as if she knew what had been done. She looked down at her hands. They were trembling.

[Lunarglade-argent-dawn (Lunarglade)]

Yeah they’re cool.

[Frostvine-argent-dawn]

Yandra gripped the reins tightly. She did not know what made her more frustrated, another betrayal from the Horde, or her own naivety. The Horde had fought alongside the Banshee Loyalists - again. How could anyone sink to the level of reasoning with those mindless killing machines? Yandra hissed at the very thought. She was starting to see the Horde for what they truly were. Betrayers and backstabbers. None of them could be trusted.

Now, they had captured Casden and would not return him to the Dirge. Not even the Matron of the Moonlight Melody could be swayed. The elves had faced one another, the nightborne backed up by orcs, trolls and goblins.
Yandra’s knuckles turned white, her grip around the reins growing firmer. “Who will the shal’dorei turn to when we all inevitably outlive humans and orcs?” she thought. She was hurt. Did their shared bond to Mother Moon mean so little? Had the nightborne perhaps not at all felt the touch of Elune, after being separated from her light for so many years? Maybe so.

Yandra’s saber let out a growl. She was being pulled too tight.
“Oh, sorry.” said Yandra, releasing the reins. She gently caressed the great feline’s mane, sighing. She turned her gaze to the starry sky. Her heart ached, for she felt lost. Had she given up hope of seeing the Horde redeem themselves?

[Kâî-argent-dawn (Kâî)]

”You are welcome, now, I need to find Casden…” Kai told the curious Gnome she had met during the early hours in the morning, having been so mesmerized by his genuine interest in the subject of the curse that was affecting her, she had forgotten all about what she was supposed to do… Keep Casden in check.

As she retured to the camp she searched around, there was no Casden either, but worse, Yandra was missing too, Kai felt her heart start to sink, she was like a sister to Kai, atleast so she tought, and, without a second tought, she tracked the two.

She eventually found them, they had not gotten so far out this time, that was a relief, to a degree, but the relief qucikly turned to anger, to dissapointment… to sadness, without thinking, she started to mouth off at Yandra, being harsher than she intended.

They eventually went back, after Kai had convinced them both not to go any further, and agreed to return, but as she said good night, she could feel her heart sink, had she been too harsh on both of them, she did not know, nor was she able to think much about it, as soon sleep claimed her tired mind, and body.

[Ruinthel-argent-dawn]

Hello i posted that i am looking for a Druid/Kaldorei guild and it would seem your guild has come up a number of times. I would like to ask how i can join your guild?

[Vashava-argent-dawn]

You can either apply using the ingame application tool, /w one of the officers (myself, Ayleris or Ilistria), or find us IC, and we go from there. We’re currently in Grizzly Hills participating in the [PCU/Conflict RP] Cold Front: Grizzly Hills (09/06 - 15/06) campaign.

[Ilistria-argent-dawn]

Ilistria had stayed awake most of the night. It wasn’t unusual as she tended to grab sleep in small amounts anyway, her dreams mostly filled with flashbacks that she preferred not to remember again. But this time was different, it was not the flashbacks that kept her awake, but something from earlier.

She had been recovering in Grizzlemaw when the Alliance had brought down two prisoners taken from the battlefield during the battle to defend the Furbolgs home. One of them she had recognised as a sin’dorei that she had met in battle a number of times before and that the Dirge had captured before when in Zangarmarsh, a Sin’dorei going under the name Kalinrea, A Legate of the Highblood Myrmidons.

She had watched as the dwarves tasked to question her had done so, she had watched as they relieved her of the last items of value she had on her, including a necklace she seemed attached to. Then they had left, leaving Ilistria alone with the sin’dorei, save for a couple of Furbolgs who were also curious as to what she was.

Ilistria had at first felt anger towards the elf, she had hated the sin’dorei for long years, ever since her escape from captivity under them. She had gone out of her way to target them in battle, having always taken great pleasure at each she had killed or taken the ears from. But she had not expected the responses she got when she put her own questions to the sin’dorei. She had expected her to show the same confidence and arrogance she had seen from her before when they had fought each other in battle and from the others of her kind.
But instead she saw another side, a prisoner, she was resigned to not surviving her capture, the Furbolgs wanted to bury her in the snow and let the wilds finish her. The Harbinger would likely have her executed at Ilistria’s own hand if the Furbolgs did not deal with her.

Instead of the anger she had wanted to feel so much, instead of doing what she had intended and removing the elf’s ears, she had not, she had instead felt sorry for the sin’dorei. Maybe some part of her connected with the sin’dorei’s fate, For Ilistria knew what it was like to be captured, knew the feelings that went through the mind, and knew only too well what it was like to not know if you would survive and see home again.

She had left Kalinrea alone with the Furbolg, she would no doubt not survive her capture this time, but Ilistria felt no pleasure knowing that and it weighed upon her mind into the night.

[Fenaeth-argent-dawn]

Feneath lashed at the Orc, his sword jabbed at his exposed flesh in an attempt to halt the Orc’s advance. The Orc, with the aid of an ally, was taken to the ground and Feneath was ready to give the death sentence when suddenly from a high branch in the root of Grizzlemaw darted a lightning bolt from a Vulperan shaman. The small storm quaked through Feneath who toppled to the ground, already he had sustained many physical injuries and his magical resistant trinket was spent. He laid on the ground, the lightning still working its way out of his system when a familiar visage filled his eyes. A Nightborne. A Nightborne that he had spared and even treated her wounds the day before. This time the circumstance was reversed, Fenaeth now at the mercy of the distant stranger with a familiar face.
The Nightborne raised her sword, Feneath winced at the motion but calmed when he saw it sheathed. His body was strained, his arms across his chest as one would hold a sentimental thing and his eyes impaired from the magical spell. Feneath felt as though he was dragged away, close aspects of fighters became distant and smaller.
The Kaldorei was still unsure of the Shal’dorei’s intentions but things became clearer as she began to apply some basic healing magic to him.
“Consider the debt repaid” they stated plainly as Feneath found the strength to pull himself up. The odd scene had attracted other of the Shan’dorei’s forces over who were quick to be dismissed by them. Before the visitors left they had advised Fenaeth be taken prisoner and his weapons relinquished.
“Your forces have pushed the Alliance far back”, Feneath observed as the Nightborne finished their healing spell. The Nightborne rose and gestured to his sword but with a face that showed a torn morality she withdrew her hand,
“Go before the others notice”, she instructed, some anger in their voice.
“You have already paid your debt to me, why would you do this?” asked Feneath, who balanced himself, ready to leave in a moments notice.
“You Lowbornes are rebels but soon you will accept the truth.”
The Kaldorei knew what she referred to, both were of the same race originally but their cultures had grow ages apart through the centuries. He nodded to gesture his gratitude for her mercy and banished her added sentiments at the end. It was the Kaldorei culture he held dear, he knew true in his heart and soul his people’s beliefs were right and perfect.
He made his inconspicuous and hasty escape and gave a last glance at the Nightborne and hoped their people would be made whole.

[Kâî-argent-dawn (Kâî)]

A sharp whistle blew, she had barely escaped alive, the fighting inside of Grizzlemaw was long, tedious, and very taxing, but Kai had lived to see the end, she, along with many others, kept their lives that day… But so many were lost…

Another sharp whistle, an irritation that soon built up within her, her Nightsaber, Claw, responded to her commands, without failure… Every time, but not this time, a creeping feeling in her gut was spreading throughout her body… Dread.

A third whistle, nothing, something was wrong, while all the other forces fled for their lives… Kai returned to Grizzlemaw, and what she found… Broke her heart, her companion laid dead, she knelt down beside it, and wept into the fur of her once best friend, eventually, she came to her senses once again, carefully extracting a tooth from the fallen saber… And cremating it.

She vowed on that day, if she ever was to see that Warlock who had ended her friend… She would not kill him… Oh no, a far worse fate awaited him… Her vegeance.

[Vallender-argent-dawn]

In the middle of the night, Vallender waked from a terrible nightmare. He let’s out a short wince as he was drenched in sweat. He grasped for the Gilnean-crest engraved into his shoulder but immediately regret it as his whole body started to ache.
He relaxed a bit and looked around. Through the ripped tent sides he could see the shimmering moon. Somewhere in the distance he heard the Lament of the Highborne. His gaze shifted to the entrance of the camp where the body of a female worgen could be seen.
Vallender hunched himself over to reach her, his whole body still shrieking from the pain. It was Kai Steele, Militant of the Dirge. A shiver ran down his spine, but faded quickly as he could hear her heartbeat. He looked her up and down. She was grasping the fang of her nightsaber. The one that passed away in the last battle.
Vallender bit his teeth. He missed the battle due to his injuries. And if he had gone, he would’ve either died on the spot, or been completely useless. He knew that she loved her dearly and the loss had cut a deep scar in her heart.
He figured that she was completely exhausted. He grabbed for her shoulders and tried to drag her into the tent. It was hard work. His body would either not listen to him, pain madly as he tried to summon his strength.
After what felt like ages, he had managed to shelter her inside the damaged tent. He grabbed for the blanket someone had put on him when he was passed out and covered Kai with it. After he was done he crawled to the entrance of the tent and took her previous spot.
He looked around once more. A few alliance soldiers were still walking around the camp, mourning the lost, or drinking by the fire. The sky, now directly above him was clear. The stars were burning bright, almost as if they were singing along to the Lament that still echoed through the camp. He took one last glance at Kai, making sure she was protected and fell asleep.

[Vashava-argent-dawn]

Westfall Brigade Encampment, Grizzly Hills, Northrend.

Vashava looked out across the Encampment at night, deep in thought…

The conflict in the Grizzly Hills was drawing to an end, it seemed. The entirety of the forces aligned against against the Alliance, Horde, Scarlet, Loyalist, and Drust-Witch, had come for them at Grizzlemaw. And they had held. They had survived. They had persisted. Many had fallen, but the Alliance had endured. An Ancient of War, summoned by their Grizzlemaw allies, had been corrupted by one of their foes, likely the Drust-Witch working with the Horde, the same Horde that had summoned demons and monsters and worse to try and win this conflict.

The resources of the Grizzly Hills were either held by their allies, the Grizzlemaw, or otherwise reduced to broken splinters and ash. With the conflict over, the Iron Dwarves were unlikely to aid anyone further. It would take a while for anyone to move in and start actively extracting resources from the land, time in which the Alliance would be able to diplomatically take control of the land. The Horde had rejected peace terms, had attacked negotiators at the start of the conflict, and committed various acts of brutality and evil. With luck, Stormwind’s agents would use this to take back their land. It was a brutal victory of a strange sort, but a victory none-the-less.

And so, Vashava did not sleep this night. Instead, she took position overlooking the Encampment, and soon, a version of the Lament of the Highborne began to sound across the Encampment. Not the Thalassian version, but the original, Kaldorei version. It’s words are changed only slightly to mourn the fallen of all races, rather than just Kaldorei. A short while later, the same Lament is sung from the top of Grizzlemaw, echoing around the tree, paying respect to the Alliance’s valiant allies. Once more, Kaldorei, Furbolg, and the children of the Titans had stood together against evil, and once more, they had prevailed.

[Frostvine-argent-dawn]

Yandra did not return to camp until dawn. She had spent the night by the portal near Ursoc’s Den, mourning the loss of her borrowed saber. Their companionship had been brief, but sweet. Yandra felt guilty. Had she not allowed rage to take her, perhaps she would not have charged into such an unfavorable fight, which ultimately spilled the great feline’s life.
She huddled up into a ball, hugging her knees tightly. Yandra had almost been slain as well by the same orc to end her saber. His axe had come swinging for her chest, but she had narrowly ducked away from the attack. Only her hair had been caught and cut. She touched the jaggedy ends of her sloppy bob, grimacing. It would take some time to get used to, but it was nowhere near comparable to a loss, considering her fallen allies.

The sun began rivaling the night sky. Dawn was near. Yandra heard faint singing in the distance. Was that Vashava? She started walking back to camp, wiping her eyes.

She beelined for her tent, not wishing to speak to anyone at this time. Before crashing down onto her bedroll, she spotted a letter laid next to it. Confused, Yandra reached out for it, studying the envelope with an arched brow.
The parchment was light purple and had her name written across it. The seal had been stamped with a cog. Yandra smiled for seemingly the first time this eve, already suspecting who the sender might be.
Her smile only lasted for a brief moment however, for when she opened the letter, a familiar feather fell out. The same feather she had gifted to Turnbolt some months ago. Turnbolt was a gnome, and the two had somehow developed an unexpected friendship. Yandra was very fond of him.
She carefully raised the feather, studying it under a furrowed brow. She did not understand. Her eyes fell back onto the parchment, and she read-…

This is what the Horde do to those such as us, the ones that strive to better this world. They show no mercy or consideration, and they additionally never will. The feather accompanying this letter was found to be yours, Druid, and from my sights here in the Hills, it would seem that our hero, Taddarius Turnbolt trusted you well. Keep it as a memory, as to never forget the loss of him. For the Concordat.

Tears welled in Yandra’s eyes, smudging the text as they dripped down onto the letter. She pressed it to her chest, sobbing quietly until sleep claimed her.

As Yandra exited her tent the text morning, she gazed towards the direction of Conquest Hold. The letter was still clenched in her hand, the feather in the other. Her pale amber eyes blazed with an unrelenting fury as she swore to avenge her friend.

[Ilistria-argent-dawn]

Rage, overwhelming and powerful rage had taken hold of Ilistria as she saw the flames take hold of the tree. The new Horde, Saurfangs Horde, the Horde that had signed for peace with Anduin, Nothing had changed with them from Teldrassil. They had set fire to the fallen tree at Vordrassil. Everything was made clear to Ilistria, The Horde and the Loyalists were no different, they were all the Horde, all the same evil, The Banshee queen may have ordered the burning of Teldrassil, but it was the Horde that carried out the order, and now they had done it again, without her order.

They would all die, every one of them would die, there could be no peace, not while the Horde existed.

A red mist of hate and anger had taken control, she had let the inner monster inside her free, her blades slashed and weaved before her, she had no care for her own defence, if she was going to die here so be it, but she would take as many horde as possible with her in the process. Her only thought had been to kill and destroy any of the Horde that got in her way.

She had briefly stopped when she had found Yandra and Rynea, urging them to leave fast, she had waited until they were done and then moved up with them, her blades cutting and slashing out at any horde that got close. Then she had been aware of the Harbinger, and others of the Dirge. The south entrance was blocked by Horde forces. The sound of battle was all around, Ilistria had not waited, she had charged into the Horde lines, her blades now just an extension of her body, they hacked out at anything coming before her, she screamed in anger, forcing deeper into the ranks of the enemy, not waiting to see if any followed her, not caring. Her only purpose was to kill or be killed now.

Then she had found herself outside, Horde running past her, moving away from the burning tree. She had walked for a time, blades still coated in the blood of her enemies. Until she had found her nightsaber, or it had found her. She had mounted it and ridden it back to Westfall camp. Struggling to calm the monster inside her. But now she knew the path she was on was true.

The Horde would die, and she would kill as many as she could, no mercy, no forgiveness, just death for them, death for them all.

[Kump-argent-dawn]

Screenshots edited by Frostvine.

[Frostvine-argent-dawn]

Yandra flew towards Astranaar, landing on the inn balcony. There she found the rest of the Dirge.
“Oh, good! You must have received my message then, Harbinger?” said Yandra, smiling at Vashava who inclined her head.
“Very well.” said Yandra and turned her gaze to her brethren. She went to reveal the discovery she had made – Crying Violets. A curious flower which grew near the pools of Felwood. When you spoke to it, it would respond back in a shrill voice.
Yandra had the druidic tome to thank. The one she had found during the Felwood Campaign, some weeks ago. It was far from readable, since it seemed very old. Many of its pages held knowledge which would surely be forever lost. Though, some illustrations and stray words were still intact.
The Dirge looked back at Yandra with arched brows and concerned faces. Most, if not all of them, were probably questioning her sanity and were quite vocal about it. Though, Yandra did not let their doubt sway her enthusiasm. She was convinced this would be the Dirge’s ticket to long distance communication.

So the Dirge rode off atop their sabers, halting at the border between Ashenvale and Felwood. Yandra sent the elves out in pairs to look for the crying violets, seating herself off the road to prepare a cleansing ritual. The flowers did grow in a corrupted forest, after all. The sentinels of Astranaar would certainly not be keen on allowing the Dirge back in, should they return with tainted items.

As the Dirge set out, they would soon discover that Yandra had in fact been right. As they approached the various pools of Felwood, they laid eyes on the pretty purple flowers, idly swaying in the wind.
Some of the elves went to immediately pick them without issues, whilst others began poking and speaking to them. Ilistria was especially fond of the latter.

After a time spent collecting the crying violets, the Dirge returned to Yandra. She was glad to see them and their bounty. Most of the elves had recovered a whole bundle of flowers. Though, to Yandra’s surprise Azshandra and Rynea had only managed to retrieve a single one. Perhaps she had considered Rynea a flower picking prodigy, seeing as she too was a druid. Though, it mattered little, as the Dirge had accumulated more than enough.

Yandra, Kai and Rynea proceeded with the cleansing ritual, placing the crying violets in the center of a circle, made up by Darnassian symbols. The druids attempted to remove the corruption, being partially successful. It was good enough. They would be able to return to Ashenvale now, to continue their works.

[Stallnorth-argent-dawn]

Absolutely loving these stories, keep them up.

[Lunarglade-argent-dawn (Lunarglade)]

Hey there friendos, thought you could use a bump for no particular reason!

[Paladanna-argent-dawn]

The Dirge of Teldrassil series 3 action figures are available now

get yours today and own ur own vashava 4" mini with posable arms and arcane spell attachments

[Stallnorth-argent-dawn]

Hey guys! Quick question, how often do you guys visit Stormwind?

[Vashava-argent-dawn]

We often find ourselves there one or twice a month on business, normally for two or three days, but off again pretty quickly on missions in the Eastern Kingdoms.