#adventuring life

[lockhinge]

Old adventurer: Before we head out, would any of you like a little peptalk and a lesson on how to steel your mind from outside influence and mental barrage? The whole party: Yes please; we're all like twenty!!

[artist-x-j-roman-cain]

Adventuring Life

Eyes wide filled with hope. Reckless roller-coaster ride. Ambivalent bloom.

[lockhinge]

"I am going to cry about this experience later and probably throw up, but now is not the time!!"

- Wizard, mid-combat

[lockhinge]

"Two guards in here don't move when their boss calls them because the paladin Commanded them to sit. So, they get on fantasy Microsoft Word to update their resumes."

- DM

[lockhinge]

Bard: Guys, remember when we almost died to some rats in a barn? Dad's old adventuring buddy: The same thing happened to us, back in the day. Bard: Level one, amirite?

[lockhinge]

Warlock: This went terribly… I had a plan today, you know. Bard: Was it to keep your blood in your body? Set realistic expectations next time.

[tentaclepriest]

returning to the shore

The Argent Crusade had loaned them all hippogryphs. Rythien stepped off his and nearly fell flat on his face, swearing viciously enough that a nearby gnome winced. The Broken Shore lived up to its name; the ground was patchy and uneven, full of irregular slabs of ancient masonry which would have been easily traversable to a man with two good legs.

Rythien wasn’t that man any longer. As he hissed and rubbed his back, hastily dismissing the shadow tentacles that had hauled him upright, he spared a fleeting note of thanks that at the very least he did most of his fighting from horseback. This time, I’ll be smarter about it. I won’t let that happen again; I can’t believe I was that fucking stupid the first time.

(It had been an accident, but—he remembered the fall, the wrenching tear, the pain, how he would have died anyway if Bill hadn’t picked him back up. Never again. He’d never get injured by something so stupid again.)

“—You okay, babe?”

He made himself smile at his husband, but he could tell it was a poor effort. “Yeah, I’m fine. Can you give Seth a call, let him know we’re on the Shore and haven’t died yet? I’m gonna see if the Crusaders are here, I think I see Reginald’s armor.”

“Sure.” As Bill rummaged in his saddlebags for the spare communication crystal, he added, “And take your cane.”

Cane in hand, he picked his way down to the camp below. There’d been an effort to keep the streets free of obstacles, but there were so many soldiers and adventurers making Deliverance Point their new home that he was still forced to whack a few shins that got in his way. He used Reginald’s armor as a signpost; the Forsaken crusader was addressing his troops from horseback, for once raising him above the crowd. Despite what it signified—the Crusade wasn’t wasting a shred of time avenging their fallen, and soon he’d probably be joining the fray by their side—Rythien couldn’t help but feel a little relieved at the sight.

The Light is with us. We will not falter. Not again. Reginald’s speech seemed to be over; Rythien raised his voice over the chatter of passing soldiers to call out to him. “Hey! Glad to see you made it here alright.”

Reginald half-turned in his saddle, raising his helm and an eyebrow. “Was that a concern?”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he approached, scratching behind Demosthenes’ ears when the gelding lowered his head to investigate his pockets. “You gotta admit, some of the stuff we heard over the comm was a little worrisome. Just a bit—no, horse, I do not carry sugar cubes. Stop that.”

Reginald sighed. “It was only regular combat, the sort we are trained for. Tanryn just tends to forget to turn her communicator off.” He paused. “As do you, though Aya does wish me to extend her thanks for the impromptu sermon.”

He felt heat crawl up his ears, and rubbed them awkwardly. “Right. That was an accident, but in my defense Anchorite Gesslar did ask how we do things in Silvermoon.” He scanned the crowd for Argent tabards. “Where are Aya and Tanryn, anyway?”

“Aya is…” He paused. “Dealing with the other healers.”

“…That bad, huh?”

Reginald winced. “Last I saw, there were three priests, a monk, and two druids—and her—having a quite spirited debate on the proper treatments of fel toxins. I left them to it. As for Tanryn, I’m…actually, now that you mention it, I am not entirely sure where she went off to. I would check the outskirts of the camp, she seemed to be in a…mood.”

He nodded. I can’t blame her. Not after the first assault. “Gotcha.” A flash of white behind Reginald caught his eye, and he cleared his throat. “Uh, Reg? I think your troops are about to charge off without you.”

“Blast!” Reginald turned and nudged Demosthenes into a trot, calling back over his shoulder, “We’ll be in touch!”

“Yeah—“ Before he could add a blessing—walk in the Light or Light be with you or any of the words you said before a potential battle—Reginald was gone in the crowd, and Ryth sighed at the space where he’d been. I should see if I can find Tanryn. Check up on her. After all, that was what you did for a friend, and he liked to think, after facing the Nighthold together, that he and Tanryn were finally something like friends—even if she did complain, loudly and at length, whenever he used shadow magic too close to her, she had never actually punched him for it. And he was pretty sure she’d finally forgiven him for taking possession of a saint’s holy relic for a family heirloom.

Now, if I were Tanryn, where would I be? His steps carried him away from the crowd, past a contingent of death knights (none of whom were bearing scorch marks, so he guessed Tanryn wasn’t among them), around a gaggle of arguing Illidari, and down a packed-earth ramp leading to the shoreline. For the moment he was alone, and took the opportunity for a deep breath. It was easier to center himself here, easier to think.

And easier to hear the faint sounds of someone trying very hard not to cry, followed by the thud of a gauntleted fist on stone. When he focused, he could feel the Light around her wavering in a way he recognized as an impending outburst. He winced, knocking his cane against the cliff face as he approached the source. Better to give her time to compose herself.

“Tanryn?”

She’d curled herself between a boulder and the cliff rearing up on their left; when she looked up, wiping her face on her cloak, her eyes were red. “Th’fuck do you want?”

There was space for him to sit down next to her if he squeezed in and didn’t mind plate jabbing him in the ribs. He didn’t, so after a moment’s internal debate he took a seat in the dust. “Nothing, I just like knowing where the portable Sunwells are.”

“Pft.” She reached over, knuckling his shoulder. “I’m not that glowy.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “Bullshit you’re not, you’re like a little lightning bug—ow!”

While he rubbed his shoulder, she glared at him. “Lightning bug? You shut your face.”

Mood successfully averted…for now. He shrugged, glancing away. “It’s…strange, isn’t it? Being back here.”

She took a slow breath, gaze focused on her boots. “…Yeah. It won’t—be like the last time, I—”

The hiccup in her voice filled him with dread; to his horror, he looked up in time to see tears leak out of the corner of her eyes. He reacted without thinking, one arm wrapping around her shoulders to pull her into a firm hug. “Damn right it won’t be. Now we’re prepared; now we know what we face, and we’re going to bring the full fury of the Light down on the Legion. They don’t have a chance. They’ll be nothing but ashes on the wind, and our comrades will be avenged.” He sucked in a breath; she was sniffling angrily into his chest and it filled him with reflected rage. “We have Velen. We have the Illidari, we have the full force of every adventurer ever to lift their weapons for Azeroth. And we’ve got you, and the rest of the Crusade. We will make the Legion bleed.”

She pulled away, rubbing her face with the back of her hand. To his deep relief, she didn’t seem about to burst into tears anymore. “When you say it like that, I believe you. They must really go in for oratory at the Silvermoon seminaries.”

He cracked a smile, heaving himself upright with his cane for balance. Shadows would have been easier, but not with Tanryn so near. “You people in Stormwind had it easy, lemme tell you. C’mon, let’s get going, I think you might be needed by the healers before it comes to blows.”

She was much more graceful, rolling smoothly to her feet and sighing as she gazed up the ramp. “Great. Okay, work will help.” She paused, turning to look up at him. “And if you tell anyone you caught me going all sniffly, I will fucking smite your dick off.”

“Hey, rude!...but also, fair.” He patted her pauldron. “I was the same way after I got home from the Shore the first time. The first time my leg buckled I wanted to cry and then murder something, you know that feeling. Drink plenty of water, it helps with the post-crying headaches.”

“…Thanks.” She smiled, faint and watery. “You make a good priest, you know.”

He blinked after her as she trotted ahead of him. “…I try?”

Huh, he thought, I guess it’s working.