chieftain. ( ♫! )

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with the movie coming fast, i’m gonna start cleaning things up over here. feel free to like this for a starter!

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the warcraft international trailer dropped around 3 days ago. isn’t he wonderful looking?

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             random positivity for @loktcr​!!   alright everyone listen up ol’ wadey gotta story 2 tell u. i first met this lovely bean like?? what?? a year ago and they are honestly one of the nicest people i have ever met on this site. they put up with so much bullshit and honestly it’s amazing how well they have handled it and it’s something i look up to so much. i love u ceebean i hope you have a rockin week because you deserve it and many more like it <33

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celevonthel.

⌇♖⌇—RAGE was not the only thing many of the orcs here were consumed by. So long as the RING remained present in this world; so long as Sauron remained, those who sought to DESTROY will grow in both NUMBERS&&POWER. Intimidated a bit the elf was; his features REFUSED to show it. Although no harm was to come to him now, it did not lower his guard.

                                                     ❝I believe it for that is all I have seen.                                                       You are the EXCEPTION && for that                                                       I will not hold what I’ve experienced                                                        against you. However, you cannot                                                       hold PAST EXPERIENCES against                                                                        me as well.❞

“I am as aware of this as you would appear to be.” It is said with something of fatherly amusement in his tone, and Durotan cannot help but shrug large shoulders. “I have not encountered many elves in my lands, for they are far and few between from where I usually remain. Not many of them were particularly kind, but I will not hold that against you.” The Chieftain means no jest one way or the other, he simply finds it bemusing. “In fact, you look quite different too. Your ears are rather short.”

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provocatcur.

Obediently, Ukea sets aside whatever she had been wittling (a new carving in her bow) and turns her pale blue gaze to her father. She listens without much question when he speaks. He knows reason as others do not. “Yes, father?”

The bow is taken, looked at for a few seconds, and then set aside -- she is learning how to carve far better and faster than Durotan had expected. It’s quite pretty, in fact, and he will touch on that with her in conversation later. “I think it’s time I speak with you about the proceedings of Orc rituals at your age.” And by that, he means courtship rituals: they will come fast and without warning within a few years. He had only been a few years older than her when he had declared his dedication to Draka.

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garmak.

“Oh?” It is a sound of surprise, one in fact, that leaves her hands falling still from their actions. She was not foolish, in fact, she knew quite well what the day would hold for him, when the moon sat so bold in the sky above. A day of honor, meant for him- so then why would he want to wed her on such a grand occasion. 

Perhaps it meant, that maybe he did adore her more than the moon above. That he considered her as a gift, much like earning the position of their leader, the Chieftain of the Frostwolves. How her heart leaped at the thought, tongue tied and struggling to find words. Her gaze was quick to flicker to his own, his face alight from the burning flames between them. 

“You would not mind it then…?” Voice fell softer than intended, then again, any other day would she have expected it- not on the biggest day of his life. “You’re.. so certain that is what you want…?” Disbelief, truly, for never was there a day in her young life did she even imagine marrying a Chief, finding one who loved her. Each and every surprise he pulled left her heart ache, ache with a joy she never thought possible. 

He nods a heavy head, from which his crown would lay one day -- soon, hopefully. It’s a figure of speech: orcs have no beautiful trophies beyond the prizes of their kills, and as the days drag on, his bone-made teeth and claws grow heavier around his neck. “It is to be the happiest day of my life, and I would see you alongside me then. Consider it... well, you’d make it much happier.”

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garmak.

Such keen senses, the mind of a hunter never seemed to find ease. Even when the night lay still, their people at rest, he could never seem to find peace. The burden of a leader, the weight lay heavy on his shoulders, a constant reminder that generations lay in his hands, and to add to said weight, a child of their own. Though barely there, but a small reminder within, the thought of a future, a leader, gave her hope. A gift to look forward to, to cherish above all things.

How gentle her hand did move across his skin, light, like a feather as it came to rest atop his broad shoulder. The warmth of his body brought comfort, his shadow dancing against makeshift walls that kept in heat. “The night is calmer than most, a gift I would not take for granted. Neither should you...” Though her words were not meant to carry venom, instead concern for her mate, fingers softly brushing along his cheek. Hair draping over her shoulders, her focus was quick to flicker from his work, then to his eyes, hoping to take his mind away from the work that kept his brow concerned and in knots. “…Yet here you stay.. is something the matter? How was the day…?”

Peace was a hope long gone at this point, as if it were never to arrive in the first place. The stress of being the Chieftain terrifies him almost as much as losing her. One small mistake could mean the lives of their people, and that is something he must remember every day. But he is excited for the prospect of a child -- Go’el, if it is a boy, (he hopes, but Draka doesn’t need to know that) -- and at being a father.

Her hand dances against his cheek as if it weighed no more than a feather, and it is at times like these that he remembers just how quickly she can be something of a ferocious warrior. He has never been more impressed. “I fear the other Clans are rising together to commit horrible atrocities, and there is nothing we can do to stop them from coming to us.” Even on the ridge, where ice has been laden into their bones, there’s no escape.

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theeternalsun:

      “And allowing them to continue believing that they can walk without consequence after being disrespectful it’s better?…” her voice drags on, tone unimpressed as her sharp eyes continued following the humans that still laughed in the distance “I think that a slap on the wrist would do no harm.” after all, rude Children sometimes need to be educated, and perhaps even a fright to be put on the right path.

@loktcr from here

“A slap on the wrist will only inspire their hatred further.” The Kossith says it out of experience -- many a time has he wanted to lash out, to be crueler than his forefathers ever were; it’s in the nature of Durotan’s blood as well as his mind that violence should be the answer, even when it isn’t. “There are other ways to impose consequences on them. And sometimes, a lesson attempting to be taught can start a chain reaction.” This he knows too, he does not want his Clan to be at risk of violence or endangerment because of his foolish actions.

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“Ukea,” he rumbles, voice low and deep in his chest, “I want to speak with you.” She’s getting older, now, and as little as he’d like to have a conversation about young boys and young girls, he knows that it’s unfortunately now or never.

[wordsnquotes]

But you, please, don’t go.

Mario Benedetti

original: “Pero tú, por favor, no te vayas.”

(via wordsnquotes)

[byemykiddos-deactivated20140718]

[starcraftlas]

“We must make a home here. Whatever happens.”

Warcraft Movie (2016)

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archmcge.

                   she could not manage to muster the same amount of         disdain & malice       like the others ;; jaina struggled to come to understand why such violent division had them on the brink of war            one that was sure to bring the whole of azeroth to it’s knees. there was a like heart in anduin lothar, however unreachable he may have been but, despite the warnings of the kirin tor not to become overly invested due to their inherent neutrality, jaina reasoned that finding commonality from both sides would be fulfilling those very same duties. despite her questionable affinity towards the construction of portals, and waning sense of direction so far from dalaran, jaina had originally intended to observe the fabled durotan from afar                        … only to appear directly in the midst of his war room.

                            armour of argent and lilac captured the light and announced her presence, the frantic beating of a heart ( still not passed it’s time ) became thunderous in her ears as it rivaled the surprised remarks from the orcs that surrounded her             defensive hands rose as she willingly backed herself into a corner. ❛ i have not come to cause harm ! ❜ she was hardly a mage worth her salt but any implication of magic would not have been taken lightly.

This war will be what breaks him -- he is sure. The burden of a leader is heavy to bear, but that weight only grows greater as time drags on and his people are dying, one by one. In exile he remains fitful, and amongst his people he remains useless. There is nothing he can do for his kin, save side with the humans. It is not a decision he’d wanted -- Durotan would much rather remain neutral. But desperation calls for desperate measures, as Draka had told him, and the Frostwolves are admittedly desperate. So that’s why he’s called a meeting, to discuss the plans to set out against the other clans and hopefully find a successful alignment with Lothar. The meeting is drawing to a close -- when a light flashes, blinding && bright, and there is a girl standing in front of his people.

Orgrim makes an alarmed noise, and Draka’s axes are already out -- despite the fact that there is a baby swaddled against her back in his basket. Durotan reaches out, puts an arm in front of his mate. Keen eyes run over the woman’s form for a moment, observing for any particular threats. None come to his immediate sight, but he can’t help and remain cautious. “Speak of your intentions, now, or we will remove you. Forcefully, if needed.”

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celevonthel.

                                                ⌇♖⌇—❝I do not expect you to FORGIVE                                                    my first impression of you–your outer                                                      appearance does raise brows. But–                                                      I will admit to this; you are UNLIKE                                                      the other ORCS I have seen before.                                                            You seem…SMARTER.❞

“The orcs of this world are consumed by rage. They do not even speak the same tongue as my people. You have nothing to fear.” Durotan admits that he finds the elves of this world just as irritating as the last, but he’ll say no such thing to the face of an elf. He has manners. “I am a Chieftain to my people. I have a family to protect. We are not all mindless beasts, if that is what you are to believe.”

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spiritbled.

        “I’d prefer if you did not touch me. I seek no assistance         from beasts I do not know the nature of.”

“I had no intentions of doing so. My apologies. I am Durotan, son of Garad, Chieftain to the Frostwolves. And I am no beast.”

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He's holding a knife in his hand, sharp and clean but obviously well-loved judging by the notches in the handle. Durotan settles his gaze on Seine with calm eyes, voice rumbling low in his chest. "Time to cut your hair."

A child should never come to fear the voice of their parents. Never should they feel the clenching tight anxiety in their gut when they are addressed by them. Flinch not, wince, never wince. Seine expected at first his voice to be harsh, a roar, and constant anger. She is small, and easily spoken down to. Easily crushed by curses and roars of others. Yet when he addresses her, it is the calming crash of waves and never a roar. His voice is wind, that carries gently and warm across her back and brow. It has all the power to unleash storms should he wish and never once has he raised his voice to her. They made him Chieftan because of this, she is certain.

The Kossith are a hard, ferocious people. When she washed upon the shore of their Island she was half dead and bloodied. It was a miracle sharks did not take her, or the sun bake her alive on the hot sand. His hands, despite their size and very ability to crush her skull like a hollow shell, were the first gentle hands she had ever experienced. Only a child, and still had seen hardness she should not have known at a young age when he found her. Yet his gaze, his voice and HER voice, and comforting touch had the wild defenses in her mind calmed. They gave her no reason to ever rebel against their wishes. Never a reason to fight them, with all their hard lessons and teachings she absorbed it all. Though she felt slight apprehension as she saw the knife, knowing full well it was a necessary  need to cut it. It had been a few years and already her hair reached beyond her waist, and almost too long to be useful in battle. Years prior she felt something opposite of fear to ever see the knife. That knife meant bonding. Quiet, bonding time with the figure she only ever considered to be a father. He had his clan to lead, and did not always have time for the strange child he had taken in. That much she understood. Yet when the knife appeared she almost eagerly bounded to him before, glad to know of all the hands of the clan that these were the most welcoming.Nearly a woman grown she nods slowly and pulls the braid apart and removes the ribbons and leathers, the teeth and the shells, letting them fall to the leather scrap by her feet. Chin raised high she meets his gaze, holding back the adoration and love she holds for him, for her.“May I be allowed one braid to keep? By my ear.” She is never afraid to ask, for the answers if rejected she understands and does not question. He is a good leader. He knows many things, and has many years of experience beyond her. He knows what is best, even for her.It never hurts to ask, though.

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bloodylyrium.

A low grumble escaped from the woman as she slightly leaned back. Even if she wasn’t pleased with the whole situation she wouldn’t attack him, no, there wasn’t a chance of victory anyway. “What about the demons? They followed your people into this world as well, what are you intending to do about it?” Well, demons weren’t new to her but this time it was different. “You cannot believe we are solving your problems alone.”

“I believe you are quick to conclude upon things you have no knowledge of. My people were made for war -- and you all have enough problems yourselves.” Durotan had fled with his clan in an attempt to keep them safe -- not out of cowardice. He’s seen the way this world has crumbled under the weight of monstrous beasts. “It would seem you all are less prepared than us.”