#eldre'thalas

[the-nerd-beast]

I just realized Suramar had a lot in common with Eldre’Thalas.

Both cities were occupied by Night Elf Highborne that during the Sundering put up a magical barrier to protect themselves from the outside world. The Shen’dralar and the Nightborne both sustained this barrier and themselves with a magical power source in the city. As time went on however, people in the cities began to be sacrificed for the “greater good” of  the city’s survival by corrupt leaders.

[eepoxdraws]

"We once were the nobility of an illustrious Empire. Now but an echo of the past they say: lords and ladies of rubble."

Itched to do something related to the Highborne again

[kathrana]

Iartaria. Eldre'Thalas.

[tanefrun-blog]

Tanefrun and her mother, Elliistra, went to tour around Feralas, and received another history lesson of Kalimdor before the sundering, and the fate of the Shen’dralar. 

i love found family bonding let me live

[queen-ishura]

Character Idea

After Prince Tortheldrin’s culling of most of Eldre’thalas’ population, he places an embargo on children to prevent the pylon system from overloading again. A Highborne lady ends up pregnant, has the child, but sequesters it outside of the city and leaves it there (probably to die). A random Kaldorei wanders close enough to Eldre’thalas to hear the baby crying and takes it home, raising it as their own child. 

Behold: a Highborne “orphan” who maybe has a penchant for the arcane, but never learns it and is raised like any ‘ol Kaldorei. Extra drama points for the fact that the Shen’dralar have just rejoined Kaldorei society, meaning this child could reunite with their actual birth parents.

(feel free to use this in any capacity!)

[queen-ishura]

Today’s post is... Highborne ruins!

It’s cluttered, I apologize. And some of the cities are probably way inaccurate to where they should be (Broken Isles, anyone?) 

Please enjoy an elf dominated Kalimdor

[shylmenra]

RETURN TO ELDRE’THALAS (10)

Biting her lip, the demure arcanist takes a long pause, subtly attempting the quell the rising tide of magic that threatened to overtake her. Snaking through her veins like a covetous, hungry thing, the infused Arcwine burned her from the inside like purest frostfire. It wasn’t entirely unpleasurable; however--unexpected and inopportune--it derailed her train of thought, rendering her mute as the vast majority of her concentration was expended upon the task of keeping herself contained.

Even still, entangled in its grip, with it offered so nonchalantly there was the urge for...-more-. She could no more fight against this desire than she could turn day to night. And so, she merely nodded in agreeance with both his assertion and his question, holding out her glass with limp fingers to fill both empty cup and empty space for her receding voice.

It was of course, as the Archmage desired. One never dealt with a Whitespire without an ace in the pocket. The family was inordinately powerful; and even this graceful swan, Cyan’thiel Whitespire’s youngest daughter, possessed his fiery soul within her frosty exterior. He suspected she had no idea what really happened to her parents; else, he couldn’t imagine that she would have willingly returned to Eldre’Thalas. It was not the time nor was it his place to inform her, however. The Archmage had other goals in mind this day, and his ambition allowed for naught to get in the way of his aims.

With a flick of his wrist, the decanter hovered up from its resting place and levitated over to her trembling glass, filling it well and full again before returning to top off his own and return to its place on the table. Taking a long sip, he set his glass down with a soft thud. Time to get to the point, and quickly, while she was subdued.

“My dear Miss Whitespire. Your beauty and grace are indeed as it has been said, and your skill in magic is formidable.” When her answer was merely a quizzical arched brow, he nodded, continuing quickly. “More so perhaps than even you realize.” The Archmage pushed himself up from his desk, gave one firm tug at his robes to situate them, and padded languidly forward toward the scrying pool which exuded its light in the corner of the office, shimmering and quiet. With a wave of his hand over its placid surface, the illumination increased, slowly coalescing into colors and shapes to help make his point.

“You, my dear, are not just an arcanist; you are a -sorceress-. You are the scion of an ancient magical bloodline. More than that: you likely could out-do them all, should you wish.” Peering aside toward her, with a wave of his arm he invited her forward. The shapes in the pool took on the form of a delicate spire, spiraling in concentric circles toward the ceiling; the colors turned blue and ice-white. “I am aware of your feat at the Nexus with your ‘Collective’. Is it lost upon you that most who would dare such a task would have perished? I assure you, it certainly wasn’t the -human- mage who ensured that feat was successful.” Light gushed through the structure, pouring out of the top of the model tower; pulsing to the ceiling where it crawled toward the edges of the room, vanishing in seeking fingers of smoke.

[shylmenra]

RETURN TO ELDRE'THALAS (9)

Taking a deep breath, Shy dared to slowly stand with a curtsy and began to pad around the room, away from his curious gaze. Taking in the voluminous books on the shelves as still she sipped at the wine, she shifted tack, carefully. “Your words are strong, my Lord. Most of our people remained here, in our great city, as I would have liked to..."

The ghost of a pout flickered across her lips, her eyes longing as they devoured his personal library. "However," she continued with a soft exhale, "I traveled the world as I was bid, following in the footsteps of my family, commanded to be a diplomat and disperse slivers of enlightenment to the other races of Azeroth. I have assisted the common folk in their magical needs; dispensed knowledge to the inhabitants of Darnassus, Stormwind, and Ironforge, respectively. I was to take my place in the Exodar, but, perhaps tragically, my tardiness due to my wandering led to Lady Moonlance taking the post.”

At that, Shy’s voice cracked and her eyes filled with unshed tears, causing the Archmage’s brow to arch in concerned query. Opening his mouth to question, Shy raised her hand to stop him, her head canting to the side in shame as she did so. “That is a tale for another time. Please, my Lord! Let me continue with this train of thought.” Balling a fist, she sniffed, slowly exerting control over her roiling thoughts. Another soft exhalation, slow and steady, and silver eyes peeked back open as she continued. “Nothing I saw impressed me. Raised and trained here as I was in Eldre’thalas, how could it? Darnassus is enchanting in the moonlight, yet devoid of a certain... spark. I admit, I’ve never been to the Kingdom of Quel’Thalas or the Isle of Quel’Danas, which remains a personal goal of mine. But then, then...I stepped foot upon the Broken Isles. Invited, personally, by Khadgar himself! Imagine that.”

Her eyes were shining bright as she told the tale, like two nether sparks dancing about the study. Her voice became slightly breathless while the Archmage again sat back and smiled, watching her with all the attention of the falcon upon the mouse. “Azsuna. Nar’thalas Academy. And even Suramar City…. I have seen what became of our people! They are beautiful and terrible. They make me tremble just thinking about them, and yet, I cannot stop wondering about them and their ease with the Art. Magic, which imbues all which they touch...clothing, jewelry, wine…”

At that she paused, peering down at the glass in her hand. Realization dawned upon her. This taste; this scintillating rush of the blood. She had tasted such before; that she had felt this surge in the veins, even become somewhat addicted to its unique infusion of bittersweet flavors and power.

Lifting her gaze from her dwindling glass, she peered at the Archmage, eyes luminous and dilated. Polishing off his own glass, he merely nodded with a small smile. “Arcwine. Twice-Fortified.” He paused to refill his goblet, holding the ruby concoction to the light. “It is quite amazing, isn’t it? I had some delivered when the Kaldorei established their foothold upon the outskirts of Suramar. I admit I’ve developed quite a taste for it - as it appears you have as well. Feel free to avail yourself of another.”