☽ A new night market has appeared on WrA nestled in Revendreth. Have some unconventional wares you can’t sell without being side-eyed? Are you a rather unconventional vendor looking to sell your merchandise and not get questioned by the guards for “suspicious activity”? Look no further, you are most welcome here.
☽ A partnership between the Sanguine Order and the @fence-macabre brings you this brand new market and we hope you’ll join us in the Shadowlands!
Maverick’s date auction will result in a horseback ride through Howling Fjord so, naturally, it was an excuse to draw him in a fancy equestrian uniform. :^)
More information about the upcoming date auction on twitter!
☽ A new night market has appeared on WrA nestled in Revendreth. Have some unconventional wares you can’t sell without being side-eyed? Are you a rather unconventional vendor looking to sell your merchandise and not get questioned by the guards for “suspicious activity”? Look no further, you are most welcome here.
☽ A partnership between the Sanguine Order and the @fence-macabre brings you this brand new market and we hope you’ll join us in the Shadowlands!
Thank you to everyone who made it to The Squeaky Wheel for Fortune’s Favours! As always, it was an absolute pleasure to see you all, and lovely to hear how much you enjoyed the evening. We look forward to welcoming you back on Tuesday November 20th 5-7PM WrA | 7-9PM MG for a regular bar night with special closing performance by The Harpies!
(Thanks to @bluexepher and @luminess-brightcoil for tonight’s music, and Madame Xepher, @itsjustbeek, Bakuzan Burlycloud, and Vaethorne for their fortune telling tonight!)
<Dalaran, Broken Isles ... 2pm. The 1st of November>
Dominique stands in front of the vanity of the hotel bathroom. It was a nice little hotel room... a little nicer than the ones he was used to in his travels. If Dalaran had anything to offer, it was definitely tourist friendly. At the very least, this vanity had tons of counter space for working. But today was a little different.
Dom was in town for celebration for the Day of the Dead. He was more than a little eager to run into the familiar worgen, Reaghan. He had met her at one of Madame Xepher’s parties the other day and they made fast friends on the dance floor. Under the light of fluorescent bulbs, he carefully finishes placing the last few beads on his skull mask. He was pretty proud of his work! It was beautiful in color, intricate in its design. Dominique sets it aside to let the glue dry into place.
After that, Dom sighs... would he take a wig today? Would he even bother with it? He lifts a long black wig from its mannequin head and runs his fingers through the hair. ... His eyes glaze over, his thoughts drifting with the long black midnight hair.
A much younger Dominique turns, wide-eyed to the source of the sound behind him. There in the doorway, a goblet of juice has been dropped and its contents are splattered across the floor. He’s met with an identical face, ridden with shock.
“... What did you did you do to your HAIR?!”
It took Dom a moment to register from everything happening at once. He just sat there, wide-eyed and dumb with the pair of scissors. His own hair now cut in choppy clumps.
“I-i...”
“ARE YOU STUPID?”
“NO!” Dom finally snapped back at his twin. “I got tired of doing all your homework, Maverick! I-I wanted to do stuff for myself for once! Now they can tell us apart. You have to do your work and stop cutting your studies. I can’t keep studying for the both of us, okay... I’m tired..”
The now longer-haired twin just stared in utter bewilderment. “You could’ve just SAID THAT. Now you look stupid. Serves you right. Mom’s gunna be so mad at you for cutting your hair.”
“SHUT UP! GET OUT OF MY ROOM!” He threw the hairbrush, missing his twin who was laughing, “ITS -OUR- ROOM, STUPID.” “I’M NOT STUPID, YOU’RE STUPID!”
The sound of the kettle loudly whistling immediately rips Dom out of his daydream and back to reality in the little hotel room. He rests a hand over his chest, calming his heart that has lept into his throat as he pulls the kettle from the red hot iron underneath it.
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and exhaling slowly.
Dominique’s eyes look back to the bathroom, peering at the wig left on the vanity.
In that moment, he felt small... and alone, looking around at the tiny single one-bed hotel room....no fridge... no balcony... not even a radio. His messy bed and the two suitcases he dragged around with him as he hopped from room to room. It was almost time to put on a face and head out to the party. Almost ready to put up the facade of glamour and luxury.
He wondered if he really was stupid to live like this.
<Alloysium Estate, Suramar - Saturday, October 10th - Evening>
Hayden was sitting in one of the reclining rooms, wide open windows, enjoying the cool ocean breeze. He was watching the shimmering lights of the city, the gondolas slowly drifting through the canals of glistenig clear water.
Hayden saw his neglected diary to the side. How long had it been since he’d written inside of this thing? He opened it up and turned to the recent entry.
Wow. March... It’d been 7 months since he’d written in his diary.
A lot’s happened in those 7 months. A lot of struggling with his mental health. Friendship issues. A fungal infection.... There was also good things that happened to. The beach bash, for one. Weddings...
And then he remembered the argument him and Reo got into.
He sighed, taking to pen and paper. He rested his chin in his hand and set the ink to paper. Maybe he would feel better writing out his thoughts.
DEAR DIARY,
I HAVE BEEN REALLY SLACKING ON KEEPING UP WITH THIS THING. A LOT OF STUFF JUST KEPT MAKING ME FORGET TO WRITE.
ME AND REO GOT INTO A BIG ARGUMENT LAST NIGHT. I DIDN’T EVEN REALIZE I WAS YELLING UNTIL HE WAS YELLING BACK SO WE WERE JUST YELLING AT EACH OTHER. DON’T WORRY, DIARY, EVERYTHINGS OKAY NOW. WE MADE UP AND EVERYTHINGS OKAY AGAIN.
I DIDN’T REALIZE HOW FRUSTRATED I WAS SEEING EVERYONE ELSE AROUND ME GETTING MARRIED. I GUESS I WAS GETTING TOO HOPEFUL AFTER THAT TAROT CARD READING... I FORGOT THE CARD I GOT. “THE LOVERS FACING UP” OR SOMETHING? I DUNNO. IT’S BEEN A REALLY STRESSFUL YEAR, DIARY.
I JUST WANNA GET MARRIED SO BAD, BUT WHY? I GUESS BECAUSE I MISSED OUT ON HAVING A BIG WEDDING THE FIRST TIME I WAS MARRIED TO SOMEONE. WE WERE KINDA RUSHED INTO IT AND HAD A SMALL PRIVATE CEREMONY AND THEN WENT RIGHT BACK ONTO THE BATTLEFIELD THE NEXT DAY. THEN AFTER THE WAR WAS OVER, EVERYTHING FELL APART.
BUT THAT DOESN’T MATTER ANYMORE THAT’S IN THE PAST.
I GUESS DEEP DOWN, I WAS AFRAID OF LOSING HIM TO SOMEONE ELSE. I JUST WANTED SOME KIND OF MAGICAL FAIRY TALE HAPPY ENDING WITH REO BUT REALITY OF THE SITUATION MADE ME SEE IT WAS UNFAIR TO TRY TO PUSH MY FANTASY ONTO REO. REO SAID HE WANTED TO BUT HE WASN’T READY TO GET MARRIED AS THINGS ARE RIGHT NOW. HE FELT WE WERE TOO YOUNG AND THINGS WERE STILL COMPLICATED WITH HIS DAD. AND WHO KNOWS, READY MAY NEVER COME. REO EVEN SUGGESTED THAT WE BREAK UP IF I FELT LIKE HE COULDN’T MAKE ME HAPPY.
BUT OF COURSE I SAID NO! I’M NOT GUNNA BREAK UP OVER SOMETHING LIKE THAT. I LOVE REO AND IF WE NEVER GET MARRIED THEN THATS OKAY. I DONT NEED THAT TO BE HAPPY. I’M JUST HAPPY BEING WITH HIM.
I JUST HATE THAT IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO REALIZE THAT...
It had been two days since her brother-in-law had been safely brought back from his captors, the purpose of him being taken in the first place remaining completely undefined. An excuse for sadism, and torture? Duke had no information to offer, being indiscriminately taken simply because he was a mage. The fight which had reportedly ensued served no purpose, with minimal injuries, aside from someone being taken mid-fight. On top of which, the captors had taken the rescuers directly to where the imprisoned had been located. With other enemies Former Commander Gliderill might have assumed it was an intentional trap, but testing revealed the captives had been uncorrupted, unspored. It wasn’t anything but shoddy slapped together amateur villainy.
The sound of her footsteps had long preceded her, the echoing of heavy metal upon marble ringing coldly throughout the halls. Floemarch had no desire to be within these walls, their opulence a tribute to their Master’s frivolity. Chandeliers glittering like droplets of blood were suspended in the alcoves which flanked the long halls, tapestries heavy with enchanted threads detailing the exploits of its resident Lord - a clever substitute for stained glass. The estate was a cathedral to its one true god, her pews hand-embroidered pillows, her altar a silken chaise with roses and thorns picked out in gold and silver. The good Pastor moved throughout the building as though she had walked it a thousand times, it was the same as every other manifestation of gluttony, they were all the same after a time.
I am Roialle Aldarill neé Gliderill, former Commander during the Scourgewar of the Sunreaver’s Thirty-Second. I fought throughout the Northrend Campaign from the first landing in Borean Tundra until the final siege of Icecrown Citadel. My Stronghold was and still is located on the opposite side of the Gjalerhorn in Grizzly Hills. I fought across nearly every square inch of Northrend, and became intimately familiar with its various threats.
It was a warm, quiet evening for Duke Aldavir as the crickets chirped outside the tent. Tensions were high at Varok’s Watch and morale was becoming strained as the days dragged on. It just seemed like the bad news only got worse and worse… Zori, the love of his life, was out on a mission which left Duke alone to prepare supper for her return.
It was a nice little distraction from the things that weighed on his mind. But he couldn’t keep putting it off forever… He sighed, letting his shoulders relax as he left dinner to keep warm, turning his attention to a small table by their bed.
The blue-eyed elf ran a hand through his hair and pulled out a parchment in the candlelight of their comfortably-made home away from home. He was worn and he was tired but always, somehow, he persevered. He always had a gut feeling that warned him about things to come, but this time, he could prepare if instinct wouldn’t be enough.
His brow furrowed as ink was placed on parchment.
Last Will & Testament
Of
Marmiduke Aldavir
I, Marmiduke Aldavir, a resident of the Valley of the Four Winds of Pandaria, being of full age and of sound mind and memory, do hereby make, publish and declare this to be my Last Will and Testament, hereby revoking any and all wills and codicils by me heretofore made.
I appoint and nominate Remington Thornbolt of the Fence Macabre as Executor of this my Last Will and Testament.
FIRST: I declare that I am engaged to Zori, to which I have referred to herein as my “fiancée” and that I have one adopted child now living whose name is Casiblanca Esclarmonde.
All references to “my child” in this will include the above-named child and also any child hereafter born or adopted by me.
SECOND: I declare that I do not wish to be risen into undeath and that I direct that the expenses of my funeral and cremation be paid out of my estate and be handled by my Head of House, Corneilian Aldavir, as he sees fit.
THIRD: I give, devise, and bequeath to my fiancée our home and fortune if she survives me--
It’s here that Duke pauses in his writing. He stares at that sentence for the longest time. A deep frown settles into his worn features. His heart hurt and he felt it well in his eyes.
The farmer slowly set down his pen and rested his face in his hands in silence as he took a long slow breath.
The stress all at once surging from his aching muscles, bubbling in his chest, and threatening to come up from his throat
It was twilight, the warmth past the horizon fading slowly in a mix of oranges and purples which on any other day would have been breathtaking. The quiet of everyday sounds, the breeze rising from the nearby coastline, the popping of embers from a nearby cookfire, they made the moment feel deceptively mundane. Something rested beneath the surface of every breath, skin feeling as though it was just barely there, the sensation of fingertips delicately brushing the inside of ones skull. It was anticipation, a hushing gesture at the adrenaline which longed to spring into action. It was fear.
What is the Haunted Hootenanny?
The Haunted Hootenanny is Fence Macabre’s annual October party. Come visit us at our headquarters, Vagrant’s Respite, in Silverpine Forest (proxy: farm near Ambermill 63, 56)! Square dance to a hand-curated list of barn-bustin’ music, test your speed and accuracy at our Bottle-Blastin’ mini game; tell and listen to spooky, scary tales that send shivers down your spine; and even come by to the Fence Warehouse, the only time of the year where all of our merchants’ wares will be up for sale!
The Basics
Date: Saturday October 3rd
Time: 6:30-9:30PM (WRA/PST); 8:30PM-11:30PM (MG/CST)
Location: Vagrant’s Respite, Silverpine Forest (63, 56)
Anchors: Loira-WyrmrestAccord (Horde) | Oceanid-WyrmrestAccord (Alliance)
How to get here
Horde: Portal to Undercity, Fly to Silverpine Forest
Alliance: Portal to Ironforge, Fly to Refuge Pointe (Arathi Highlands), Fly to Silverpine Forest
It was still early in the day when Azurewrath and Irielle stood at the shoreline, waves lapping over their feet. Irielle squinted, eyes narrowing as a hand raised to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the water’s glare.
“You seein’ what ‘m seein’?” Azu’s head tilted up, eyes widening as she searched for whatever it was Irielle saw from beneath the brim of her wide hat. Irielle stepped out into the water, holding a hand back towards Azu,
“c’mon, gotta see how deep it is!” The dark haired Gilnean followed after a moment. She hadn’t known Irielle for long - a few hours at most, and they’d met while Azu had been working on a sand sculpture further up the shore. Following its completion, and wearing a grin at least half the size of Stranglethorn, Irielle had offered Azu a hand up and the pair had begun a slow meander down the beach, taking in various sand constructions from other groups.
