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@eytiansunscorn
The Frilled shark (Chlamydoselachus anguineus) is one of two extant species of shark in the family Chlamydoselachidae, with a wide but patchy distribution in the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans. Behind its grin is a mouth like nothing researches have ever seen: Row after row of razor sharp, hooked teeth; twenty-five rows; over three-hundred teeth. It’s possible that some of the myths and legends of sea serpents came from the Frilled shark.
❤️❤️❤️
Sanzinia madagascariensis by Paul Bertner
0.1 Juvenile Pamphobeteus Antinous (Bolivian steely blue leg)
Die.
Az’kruggoth’s multi-eye beam bore down into Eytian’s hardened flesh, he kept trying to move but chains kept him shackled to something out of sight.
You are weak. Just like your mother and sister.
The beam tore down into his flesh, he could feel the intense burning sensation overtaking his scaled limbs, a green light flooding his vision-
Gammoth | Borean Tundra
World of Warcraft + Expansions
The Dead Fields | Zul’Drak
11 Questions
Tagged by @light-bless
I didn’t know which questions to do so I just did the latter half! And everyone I know was already tagged, so I’ll just go with these. :P
if you would be so kind as to reblog this if you feel insecure about your writing skills.
Every time I type -anything-.
“Another Stag, Another Planet” by Max Ellis
It’s be a great idea to get a character list of every member of Failzeroth + their characters and alts so people could avoid them, considering everyone in that group is an insufferable sack of horse shit.
I’ve been debating on whether or not I will RP my demon hunter. For now, I will settle with finding her a badass xmog.
If you decide to you are more welcome to through your baboo at me! I would love to make a few more connections for Vero and (hopefully) get a friend for her that isn’t hooked on meat sticks and rice cakes. xD
#sorrynotsorryeytianandxilarian
wow. Just wow. See this @eytiansunscorn? She’s meatrice shaming us.
maybe I'll take my love of meaty sticks to another establishment then :'(
A stroll down Memory Lane
Gravel crumbs and settled ash crunched delicately underfoot, even despite the light grace of the step that laid upon them. The Dead Scar was as welcoming as it had always been since Arthas and his forces had tread through it so many years before. The cloaked Sin’dorei had just returned to this land and traveling south down the Dead Scar was only bringing back old memories. Old estates laid in ruin alongside the burnt blemish upon their land, though there was one in particular that the elf was looking for that lay just a bit further ahead.
A quick hop and a slide across a few pieces of crumbled roofing left him before the scene that he was hoping to find: a large estate, the ceiling seeming to have fallen directly inward on itself. Some of the walls still stood around the outer edge, though not entirely intact. Pieces of a wooden fence were scattered around the area that used to be a garden, having been reduced unwillingly to a compost pile years before; the area laid as a patch of uneven dirt. It kept the imprint of his footstep upon it, one of the few hints that he had come this way- the rest of his tracks were covered.
Eytian’s now dirt-laden boot left a dust-tinted footprint upon the base of the wall he had just scaled to get within the perimeter of the old building. He drew his cloak back, his long horns coming into clearer sight- not that they were effectively hidden before, the hood not offering much visual contortion of such a bulky facial accessory. His fingertips drew along a table that appeared to be barely standing, a small amount of pressure applied to one corner caused it to tilt unsteadily; the legs of course were uneven. He remembered the table fondly, now gently placing his full palm against it. The familiar grooves in the wood…
He looked to a crumpled bed frame cradling a rotted and no doubt rat-infested mattress. A step closer and the dank smell of mildew filled his nostrils, no doubt emanating from the former sleeping arrangement. He outstretched a long and clawed hand to the headboard, pushing it back against the wall so it no longer tilted. Carved beautifully in the wood was the name:
‘Sunscorn’
Though he could no longer see it, his gnarled fingers ran along the grooves in the wood. His heightened senses picked up every last detail through the touch, all the way to the end of the ‘n’ where a splinter threatened to dig its way into Eytian’s pinkie- a mission he did not allow it to accomplish. He plucked the annoyance from his smaller finger with his other hand, letting it fall to the cracked stone flooring beneath him. The area was so quiet, he could swear he heard the miniscule shard of wood connect with the ground. He walked to the other end of this room-well, where it used to be. Many trophies lay shattered upon the floor, their placards telling well the accomplishments of those they used to belong to:
‘Healthiest Clutch’
‘Longest Wingspan’
‘Sharpest Beak’
‘Most Intellig-’
‘-t in Show’
Some were broken, but Eytian still scooped up the pieces of bronze after feeling the engravings in each one over. Setting them off into his side-satchel, he felt the need to cry. No tears would come, as no eyes were in place and any ducts to release water were painfully scarred over. He shook himself out of this haze- now was not the time to fall prey to such memories. Moving again, he walked to the back door of the estate in search of a single monument: the last thing he left in this place before he left for the Outlands.
Walking down the stairs at the back door, his nonexistent eyes fixated on a rectangular stone object in the center of the small courtyard. He kneeled, reaching down to touch a knuckle to the engravings on the object.
Albion Sunscorn, “The Dragonhawk”
“Has it really been years?” Eytian wondered, memories flashing through his head of how things used to be. He would raise the young hatchlings with his father, then send them off to be assessed and hopefully admitted to the ranks of the Dragonhawk-mounted Cavalrymen. He remembered fondly of how his father gave the young Eytian his first job as a Dragonhawk Keeper outside of Falconwing Square, and of how he misdirected his first client all the way to a roof somewhere on the northern end of the city. He remembered how he had grown adept at riding the beasts, entering competitions and tournaments before eventually joining the Cavalry himself. His father was in every memory, proud as ever with every new achievement that he accomplis-
In this moment, Eytian realized he had been clutching the gravestone. His body was convulsing in the same way it would be if he was crying, his breathing rapid and inconsistent. Letting go of the headstone now, his hands clutched at the dirt beneath it. He slowly lowered himself down onto it, wishing for one last hug goodbye. Something. Anything to finalize the loss of his father, even a broken word or a passing smile or a few last words, please, just something...
His mind stopped moving at such a rapid pace, remembering as to how he was so unfairly cheated of that opportunity. He looked sadly upon the spectacle, lifting his torso only enough so that his altered vision could almost make out the grooves in the stonework, if just to read his name one last time.
Suddenly, a flood of alarm filled his thoughts. The Legion was back, in Hillsbrad. He sprung up, knowing it would not be the last time he would visit this place. With a few quick words, Agrodel sprung from a nearby resting spot and reluctantly ran to the Demon Hunter’s aid. They took off from the area, the house almost exactly as he had found it- save a few broken shards of bronze and one lonely boot-print looking lost in the side garden.
Xilarian and @eytiansunscorn
Victory
The sky rained a sinister green fire from above. Malice and hate personified into balls of fel-flame that would consume all in sight, showering down a legion of innumerable demons that threatened to wash over the world. Earth shattering explosion after explosion would shake the very earth they stood on. Air blasts from even the most distant and less violent landings would send dirt and dust destructively in every direction. The closer ones bled utter devastation to everything nearby. Hillsides and defensive structures would be rendered to ashes and projectiles from the eruption of death and crumbling buildings would kill countless Horde and Alliance.
Most had forgotten how many waves descended upon them in Hillsbrad. Tired and discouraged, stripped of morale and their will to fight, many laid injured, exhausted, and ruined. Others sat to catch their breath. Demon Hunters rose from the crowds, struggling to catch their breath but remained on their feet- refusing to back down from this fight with no end in sight. One group stood in the center, behind the stalwart vanguard of Demon Hunters giving it their all as they moved to the forefront. A group of about a dozen Death Knights stood their, weapons resting on their person. Whitstan stood in the front with the tip of his greatsword in the ground while his hands rested on the hilt.
Their armor and weapons made it clear that they had been involved in the fight from the beginning and remained for the long haul. Their eyes and bodies, to the contrary, showed no signs of wear and tear. No signs of being worn or tired. No signs of dismay or disheartening. Only a cold, stern gaze that carried along with it a sense of resolve. They were already dead. They would not tire nor rest until they had accomplished their goals or were wiped from existence. Killing machines bred to slay the living now set their eyes on their new targets: The Legion. Some of them would eventually crack the slightest hint of a smile as a new wave of demons hit. There were no shortage of victims to their unyielding and relentless onslaught.
Keep reading
Legion
Originally posted by foxy-reaper
The ominous clouds above him did nothing to dissuade the once anxious Ley Walker from the task at hand. All throughout the night, he worked tirelessly to help his people get ready for the move. Soon after he began he realized there would be more to this than simply preparing crates and carriages. For a few hours he became the very Light he had often told his wife she was. It was precisely what Starfall needed, to see their Lord and Lady be two pillars of strength in trying times. When the final crate had been packed and the last words of encouragement had been punctuated with a sympathetic pat on the back, he had gained a newfound respect for his Light. What seemed to come so effortlessly to Kaevia was actually a rather draining task.
“Anything else you need help with?”
“Zahen…” His friend’s name left him in a drawl. “Right now your priority is to get better.”
“My oath was to keep you safe and you’re going off into this war when you barely know what end of the sword goes where.”
“The hilt, no?”
“I’m being serious.”
The Ley Walker let out a sigh, “I may not know but I will have to learn fast. There will be others there to teach me. Alucieus, the Oathguard…” The severity of it all began to sink in. “Kaevia.”
“Are you ready for this? You’ve always been more of a lover than a fighter.”
“I have no choice.” He finally admitted. “Now is not the time for me to doubt myself. I have studied, I have practiced… The world we live in is not made for peace, I either fight or I die.” He reached up to rub his eyes. “I have faith in the Oathguard.”
Starting a new blog for my Demon Hunter, Eytian Sunscorn! Feel free to walk up to me and RP if you see me in game.
