This has been on my mind for long but I’m gonna do this - please reblog this if you’re comfortable with pre-establishing relationships. I do not mean “met at the grocery store two weeks ago” or “have a common friend”, but rather stuff like “have been best friends since kindergrden”, “go for a beer every friday”, “friends with benefits”, “dated in highschool”, “hate each other’s guts because -insert reason-” etc. Something meaningful (but not necessarily shippy) and I mean with muns/characters you have not interacted with, because I cannot believe I am the only one who prefers jumping right into the heart of the human interaction.
Had a lot of fun writing this week, mostly bonking my oc's into each other like dolls, with a divergence to write one of my new favorite lore characters! Thanks so much to @daily-writing-challenge for hosting!
Day 1: Teaching Moments
Lorellai's auntie Henii and her squad mate Ghorren teach her how to flirt
Day 2: Letters Home
Ghorren writes a letter to his family in Dazar'alor
Day 3: First Haggling
Lorellai has her first encounter with the notorious Bindle Glintgold
Day 4: Wounds Unhealed
Ghorren encounters some very emotional Kaldorei following the Bloom of Amirdrassil.
Day 5: Stormy Reconciliation
Surviving Primalists face a terrifying encounter that gives them a new path forward
Day 6: The Two R's
Tulcor the Dracthyr labworker finds new purpose in Valdrakken
Day 7: A New Journey
Ghorren brings the squad to see the sights of Dazar'alor, and Lorellai announces what she's planning to do next
(( DWC February 2024 Day 7, Rumour/Discovery, CW: none, @daily-writing-challenge ))
In the weeks and months that followed the blooming of Amirdrassil, much of the dragonscale expedition found itself winding down. The Dragon Isles was secure and mostly safe now, and while there would doubtless be archaeological efforts for years to come, the expedition had accomplished most of its goals, and that meant it was time for many to return home.
Or, in some cases, seek other new experiences.
Lorellai was up like a flash when the captain's call echoed down into the ship where she and her team had been cooped up for weeks. Knowing they were close washed all that travel fatigue away though, as she and the others gathered their things and climbed up on deck. Ghorren was already up there, holding the rigging and wearing the biggest smile she'd ever seen on his face. He turned as they all came topside.
"Well friends, this is it! Welcome, to Zandalar!" Ghorren exclaimed, dramatically motioning to the great city that rose above them to the north.
"Now remember, stay with the group, and do not wander away from the port quarter. War might be over but the laws are still clear about where non-horde citizens are and aren't allowed to be here in Dazar'alor."
"We're still going to get to visit your family restaurant though, right? You said that was in the zocalo?" Lorellai asked, adjusting her pack and all but vibrating with excitement.
"No such luck, but you're getting the next best thing, my sister will be bringing us a whole meal to share tonight." Ghorren replied, eagerly stepping off the ship onto the docks. "Ah, it is good to be home!"
"And yet you are always in such a hurry to leave!" a woman's voice called out, eliciting a bark of laughter from the troll. Pushing through the crowd were three troll women, each distinctively dressed. The eldest of them still had her apron on over a simple dress, and hugged Ghorren even as she scolded him. "Never willing to just stay and work for a living like the rest of us."
"Ah, you know me sister, I like the good things in life, and foreign gold spends well!" he laughed, hugging her back before turning his gaze to the others. "Anwé! Qirra! My beautiful daughters!" he exclaimed, excitedly running over to hug the others.
The younger laughed as her father embraced her, her rainbow colored mohawk standing out next to her very somberly dressed and tattooed older sister. "Welcome home, Papa!"
"Yes, welcome home, Father," the older of the two echoed. She held herself aloof and proper, her robes and skeletal face paint serving to hide her mood. Lorellai couldn't help but note how she smiled as Ghorren pulled her into a hug, nudging Pinapple with a smile of her own.
Ghorren couldn't seem to stop chuckling in joy. "My daughters, please, meet my friends from the dragon isles!
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Hours later, after the introductions, the tour of the docks, and the incredible dinner, the team and Ghorren's family lounged in their rented space. Lorellai looked over at the closed lavatory door. "Think Edmund's gonna be alright?"
Anwé smirked at the dwarf. "I think he has discovered his limit for Zandalari spices. Auntie -did- warn him about it."
"Yeah, but then your dad dared him, so that was a wasted warning."
"Oh come now, he's a big strong man, should be able to handle his spice!" Ghorren laughed, earning a smack from Ulabi.
"Honestly, bringing outsiders here and feeding them the food I make special for you, you'd think you wanted to start a war. And now he's wasting all my hard work."
"Forgive me sister, it was just a joke between friends!" Ghorren smiled. "So friends, I know you're going to be exploring the city tomorrow, but what's next when you leave here?"
"Oh, we got that all planned out, Ghorren." Lorellai replied, beaming. "When we leave here, we'll be on a ship bound for Pandaria. Rumor has it the lorekeepers there have found an untouched vault and need experienced delvers to help them investigate it!"
"Tch, no rest for you youngin's, hm?"
"There's always room for another, Ghorren!" Lorellai replied, all smiles.
Ghorren shook his head, and took a long sip from his drink. "Some other time, I think I've earned some well deserved rest and family time."
"Papa, you know Auntie's not going to let you rest" Qirra said, giggling. "She's going to have you in the kitchen by the end of the week!"
"Tch, we'll see. But that's then, this is now. And for now, I'm going to get some sleep, because I know none of you are going to permit me a moment's rest during tomorrow's trip around the city."
"Until tomorrow!" Lorellai said, and returned to her maps. There was a whole world to explore, and she suspected she'd never be satisfied staying home for long ever again.
(( DWC February 2024 Day 6, Vanity/Feelings, CW: none, @daily-writing-challenge ))
All was in readiness. Tulcor eyed the implements before him, each sharpened, cleaned, and oiled, ready for use. The chemicals were mixed and ready, the fumes stinging slightly at his eyes. His subjects were fully still on their tables. The black-scaled Dracthyr flexed his wings and shook out the excitement, he was going to need a steady hand. As he wheeled the tray of implements over to the first, he looked over his subjects. A young dwarf, a zandalari troll, a kul tiran human, a draenei, and a gnome, all helpless before him. He drew forth the first implement, the metal glinting in the light that shone form above, and approached the troll.
The satisfied grunt from the troll pleased Tulcor's hearing as he put the file to the calluses on the troll's feet, scraping away at the hardened skin as the other attendants circled around, providing the full service of Valdrakken's newest and finest day spa. Expert hands and claws clipped nails, softened calluses, massaged muscles, and applied treatments to skin for the delight and comfort of their guests. Far more rewarding than the soldier's life he'd been created for, if Tulcor was any judge. The smiles of his subjects filled his heart with a glee he'd never known fighting for dragonkind. He'd also learned so much of the peoples of Azeroth with this occupation, how each valued different results based on their physiology, something he kept in mind as he worked on the troll's feet, careful not to go too far in the treatment as the troll was typical in his disdain of boots.
Hours later, Lorellai, Pinapple, Edmund, Ghorren, and Shansii sat in fluffy robes, enjoying fruity drinks and listening to the soft music from the nearby speakers. "Shansii," Lorellai said, feeling more relaxed than she had in over a year, "we gotta thank your mom for tellin' us about this place."
"Three cheers for Henii, and her impeccable spa-finding skills," Ghorren said sleepily, slowly lowering a bundle of grapes into his mouth.
"And three cheers to the spa for having a 'Champions of the Dragonflights' discount!" Pin declared, raising her drink.
From the doorway, Tulcor looked at his subjects and nodded. A much better feeling indeed than who and what he was before the great sleep.
(( DWC February 2024 Day 5, Notorious/Altruistic, CW: non-pg13 language, @daily-writing-challenge ))
There were many ruined towers and structures throughout the Azure Span, but on this particular night a light shone from within. Seven primalists huddled around the fire, seeking relief from the cold winds that howled just outside. Their leader, by virtue of being the only one to have any idea what to do, looked at his fellows. Two dwarves, a draenei, and three elves, all so small compared to his tauren form. He'd sat himself closest to the entrance in case the skin they'd hung over it failed, to spare them the worst of the cold, even as he lamented that none of them were fire adepts. Not that many of them had survived the utter defeat of Amirdrassil.
"What are we supposed t' do now?" one of the dwarves asked, idly prodding the fire with his skinning knife. "We're scattered and routed, the incarnates have abandoned us, and we're as good as dead if the dragons catch us."
One of the elves, a chubby sin'dorei whose cheerful smile the tauren dearly missed seeing, sighed. "It's not the first time I joined a movement that fell apart. If we can get back to the mainland, we can disappear into the crowds, find our way into some sort of life, keep the hope alive."
"Does anyone know how to build a raft? Maybe we could cross the sea to Lordaeron, or Northrend?" the draenei asked, eyes glowing in the gloom. The silence that followed answered her question.
"Even with our shared power over the waters," the tauren rumbled, "the seas around the isles are treacherous indeed. We'd be as dead as if we'd been caught by the dragons."
"This is such bullshit!" the other dwarf shouted, her voice echoing off the stones of the tower. "We gave up everything to join the primalists, to fix the world, and now we're just sitting here waiting to die! It makes me want to-"
Her rage was cut off by a sudden burst of freezing air that knocked the skin from the doorway, and nearly bowled over the tauren. He rose on his hooves, squaring himself between the doorway and his charges. If nothing else, he would try to buy them time to run from the figure who now stood before him, a manifestation of deepest cold, her eyes glowing with her terrible power.
Vyranoth.
The Incarnate of Water and Frost sized the primalists up, making them feel like hogs in the presence of a butcher. Their fire was snuffed by the aura of sheer cold that surrounded her as she stepped slowly into the chamber, and the chill began to pierce to the bones. The draenei's knees buckled as she fell prostrate to the ground. "Honored Incarnate, please forgive our failure! We gave our all, but it wasn't enough to stop the titan's puppets! Please, show mercy on your loyal servants!" she cried, forehead touching the ground. The others followed her lead, leaving only the tauren standing. Vyranoth eyed them all, then locked her gaze with him.
The tauren held his ground. "They refuse to believe it, but I don't. You have joined with the Aspects. You have abandoned the cause, Aspect of Storms." he all but spat her new title.
Vyranoth narrowed her eyes. "The cause was corrupted by the rage of my brothers. My ideals, our ideals, have not changed. Only the methods by which we shall achieve them."
"Then make it quick. We have suffered enough in this wretched land." he shot back, ignoring the frightened gasps of his followers.
Vyranoth raised an icy brow. "You misunderstand, mortal. I am not here to kill you."
"Then you would see us in chains, to impress your new fellows? I would rather die tha-" the tauren's proclamation was cut off by a blast of cold air that flowed into his lungs, staggering him.
"That is ENOUGH, primalist." she shouted, before closing her eyes and exhaling, releasing her icy grip on his breath. "I am not here to harm you. I am here to help you. You all joined my sister, joined our cause, to protect this world from the influence of the titans. I would have you continue your work anew, as my loyal aides."
"… what?"
"The aspects are no longer empowered by the titans, mortal. It is Azeroth itself whose power flows through them.. through me. We now work together to ensure the safety of this world from all who threaten it. There is much work to do, and I would offer you a place in my service to do it."
Vyranoth stepped forward, keeping her gaze locked on the tauren's. "I remember you, Ulrok. I remember the passion in your eyes as you swore yourself to us in the wake of Raszageth's fall. I would prefer not to lose such a valuable ally as you, and those who you have taken into your care."
Ulrok snorted. "Do we have much of a choice?"
"There is always a choice," Vyranoth replied, inclining her head. "If you wish to return to the lands of your origin, I will see you reach them safely. Though I cannot speak to the welcome you might receive when you get there. I have pledged so to all who once served us. But I would rather seek to regain your trust, your loyalty. I will need many eyes and many hands to hold the aspects to their grand declarations." Vyranoth held out her hand, mist flowing off it, to Ulrok.
He did not move at first, studying her face. It was then that her expression softened, ever so slightly. "Please," she said. He was stunned to hear it from her, and thus the first hand to take hers was the small blue one of the draenei who'd risen to her hooves.
"I will join you, Lady Vyranoth. Thank you for this chance to redeem myself," she said, her smile genuine as the tears of relief on her face.
Ulrok sighed, and reached his hand out as well. "Very well, Aspect. We've come this far, after all."
"And we're with you, big bull!" the dwarven man said behind him, sentiment echoed by the others as they rose.
"Um, Lady Vyranoth, now that that's done, could you possibly lead us somewhere warm, that maybe has some food?" the draenei asked, timidly.
Vyranoth looked down at the woman, and for a moment, the primalists might have thought they saw the barest twitch of her lip into a smile. "Very well. You are little use to the cause frozen and starved after all. Come." she said, turning and exiting the tower, before recovering her full draconic form, stretching an icy wing to allow them to climb on, and fly towards a new tomorrow.
(( DWC February 2024 Day 4, Vengeance/Satisfaction, CW: None, @daily-writing-challenge ))
In the wake of the celebrations of the Blooming
The air that blew through the greenery of Amirdrassil smelled sweet in Ghorren's nose as he stood on a hill, feeling the soft loam and grass beneath his toes. After years serving Zandalar as a mercenary hired out by the crown, both to gain riches for the nation and to keep the other peoples of Zandalar properly intimidated by his people, fighting alongside bonafide heroes, and saving people he did not know was a new feeling. A welcome one, but new nonetheless. Thus as the celebration went on, he'd decided to take a moment to himself to enjoy the moment free of the noise. Well, most of it.
The grass behind him rustled as footsteps approached, heavy and angry. Three figures, he guessed. Sighing, he turned to take them in. Three kaldorei, young in face but far too old in their eyes. Survivors of Teldrassil, he guessed. Young, fired up, and not quite feeling sated by victory. And here he was, a troll separated from the party.
Perhaps he ought to have waited for his quiet moment.
"You don't belong here, monster. Draw your weapon and defend yourself!" the apparent leader of the elves declared, holding out a sabre. The two behind her were armed as well, a mage's staff and a bow with a nasty looking arrow.
"Easy now, I'm here by invitation. We all fought against the primalists to save this tree. We're all trying to enjoy the victory."
"You don't deserve to be here, filth! Not after what your kind did to us!" the leader shot back. The staff wielder joined in. "You horde monsters destroyed our home, killed our families, and think that you can just come in here and help and all will be forgiven?"
Ghorren's heart hurt. He fought down the urge to point out that Zandalar wasn't part of the Horde when their warchief had assaulted their former capital. He knew well the pain of loss, and how it defied logic and reason. But at the same time, he really didn't want to lay a beating on a bunch of hurting kids, or leave them to go after some other tempting target. "If you're going to kill me, I'd appreciate it if you didn't do it with such an amateur stance," he said, rolling his shoulder.
"What?" the leader asked, confused.
"Your stance, your legs are too close together, and your grip is too tight. You're going to hurt yourself. Spread your feet more, and loosen up a bit on the sword, you need to be able to move it. And you, your bowstring is loose, you're not getting enough power to kill a stag with that, much less a troll. As for you, mage, you'd be smart to have an incantation charged and ready if you're going to pick a fight, you don't want to be the slowest to act in a fight."
"Shut up troll! Pick up your sword and defend yourself!"
"No." Ghorren replied. "I've fought enough today. Elves and trolls and orcs and dragons, all who wanted to destroy this place. I'm tired, and trying to enjoy some rest. You want to do this, then do it."
The kaldorei's courage wavered. Ghorren let out a mental sigh of relief at having read them right. He looked in the eyes of the leader, that were now wet with tears of frustration, anger, and loss.
"Elune damn you, you're a savage, why won't you fight?" she cried.
"What was done to you, to your families and home, was monstrous. Those responsible have faced judgment, either here, or elsewhere at the hands of your leaders. But the pain is still with you. I know. So is mine, from the losses I have faced. The only way to lessen that pain is to grow beyond it. The war is over. You and your people have a new home. It's time to stop surviving, and let yourself live and grieve."
The leader's face was wet with tears as the grip on her blade loosened, and the tension in her body dropped with a sob. "This isn't fair, none of this is fair, our families are still gone, and we're just supposed to move on?" she cried, falling to her knees. Her friends set down their weapons, and knelt to hold her, sobbing themselves.
Ghorren looked upon them sadly. Even though they were elves, even though their peoples had long been enemies, it was taking every ounce of his self control to not reach out to them. He was a father, and they were hurt children. But none of them were ready for that. So instead he kept his voice soft, like when he sought to soothe his own daughters when they felt anguish. "Go back to your people. Go to your priestesses, and tell them of your pain. Causing more won't make it go away," he said, gathering his things and slowly walking away, putting distance between him and them. Once he'd gotten out of sight, he pulled out his hearthstone, and triggered it. He'd explain his failure to return to the party later. For now, the relative peace of Valdrakken called.
(( DWC February 2024 Day 3, Bargain/Myth, CW: None, @daily-writing-challenge ))
Clinking sounds filled the air as a goblin laid out various flasks and phials on the counter where Lorellai could see them. Behind her, Ghorren leaned against the door frame, acting every part the bored bodyguard-slash-father figure. "I'm telling you kid, you came to the right place. Your problems will disappear in a puff of applied alchemy, or my name's not Bindle Glintgold, accomplished alchemist!"
"I thought it was Bindle Glintgold, excellent entrepreneur?" Ghorren scoffed.
"That's enough out of you, or you might find your special weapon oils delayed by my emotional distress." Bindle shot back, turning back to Lorellai. "Now then, what seems to be the problem, young miss?"
"Well, it's not me, but my Hornswog. He got out of the pen and was rolling around in something just outside the city, and now he's got a nasty rash on his underside. The hornswog experts said I would need a mixture of decay-roused saxifrage and unaltered bubble poppy to salve it?"
"Ahhh, not a common mixture, but one I know well! I should be able to have a nice big jar ready for you by sundown, so all we need to discuss now is how you'll be paying for this wonder cure?" the goblin answered, all smiles.
"Well, I've got plenty of gold, how much will it be?"
"Ah! Great to hear. Let's see, we've got the raw supplies, there's a bit of a price adjustment on the decay-infused herbs these days, market forces, what are you gonna do, two hours labor, overhead fees.." Bindle began to list, before looking past the earnest eyes of the dwarven girl to see the glare of the troll behind her, idly cracking his knuckles. "-and of course, a discount for a bonafide hero making her first visit to my shop, hopefully the first of many eh?" the goblin quickly corrected.
"Oh! Well that's very kind of you mister Glintgold!"
"I am nothing if not kind, and I do love to provide first time customers with a true bargain so they remember me kindly when next they have need. Just come back this evening with thirty gold, and I'll have your salve ready," Bindle declared, ears drooping a bit as he looked at the troll again, who nodded quietly.
"If you're done here, girl, we still need to get those bags of gryphon feed for Jeb," Ghorren declared, pulling aside the curtain that seperated Bindle's little space from the greater chamber the alchemists were working out of.
"Coming! Thanks again mister Glintgold, see you tonight!"
They waited until they were out of earshot before speaking again. "You know he wanted desperately to wring out every last gold piece from your wallet."
"I'm an optimist, but I'm not a fool. When you and Hlin recommended him she mentioned that he was always looking for a big score. Why do you think I asked you to come along? I know I can trust you to have my back, big fella! Now I'll be able to deal with him more truthfully in the future."
"You aren't half as dumb as you look, short stuff," Ghorren teased, chuckling as she aimed a punch at his shin.
(( DWC February 2024 Day 2, Suppress/Pastel, CW: None, @daily-writing-challenge ))
To my beautiful daughters and my loving family, I hope this letter finds you well. Our victory on the Dragon Isles is finally secure, and while there is still much to do, the great danger has been defeated, and I have been recognized for my part in helping that come to pass.
The rewards have been great, and while I will be still some months before returning home, I have sent much of them along. Ulabi, you know how to open the puzzle lock on the chest, which I am sure my brothers are trying to get into as you read this.
I eagerly look forward to being with you again, but until that time, Anwé, I am so proud of your promotion to Senior Acolyte, I am sure your Loa is most pleased. And my little Qirra, please enjoy the pigments I have sent along for your birthday, along with this photo of the armor I wore as part of a bet.
dailybridgerton
turnnoffyourmind
andulkaphoto
areudirty
vaporwave
titsay
kaledo-art
tangentwithtanner
pixelskylines
