#felothore

[brothersemberfell]

Still thinking about them. What they’re up to. How they’ve grown. How, in this time, away from the pressures of others, they’re living their truths with one another.

Will always love my OG 🚢 with the bestie

[quelfabulous]

I sat down to work on some branding for my twitch & discord.  Do you like emojis? Have you ever thought about getting custom character emojis to use with discord or twitch? These may very well be a commission option & part of a patreon emoji-club tier in the near future!

Consider supporting me on  Patreon 

[thanidiel]

Making Dues

From the Capitol of Silvermoon, the Veiled Courier flies from her nest. Enwrapped in her usual obscure of flowing red silks from head-to-toe and with two letters in her pack - Thanidiel’s favoured messenger makes her way to the Novastorm Residence. Then to a certain apartment of Dalaran. Lastly, she routes back and nestles at the Royal Exchange Bank. Likely turning in the gold for her work.

Perhaps it is the rareness of the Sorcerer Novastorm seeking the Lightward’s company that makes her pen response so soon, as though with urgency. Or perhaps the woman is well aware of the recent sentiments, the rage, that fuels many of the Dawnmenders and their companions towards her.

Her crisp hand lays out her equally simplistic reply.

Dawnward Felo’thore Novastorm

I will keep myself to the Dawnspire City as the week closes.

At your convenience, Lightward Thanidiel Highdawn

@quelfabulous

To Dalaran, the Courier makes way to the apartment of Lirelle, Sederis, and poor Arrenir. When the envelope addressed to the fair-haired man is opened (Why is it so bloody heavy?)... a dirk falls out. The same dirk that she fucking buried into his neck. Is this… a surrender? An apology? In that convoluted way of the Lightward’s?

A beat after, maybe a bit of a shake, and a sizeable piece of candy falls out. It is obvious that the candy was taken from Bricini somehow.

@retributionpriest @thepilgrimofwar

Lastly, there is one more quirk to the affairs of those within the Sunguard following the Veiled Courier’s movements. Namely that Bricini’s bank account has grown by three hundred gold pieces. Either she has developed a mysterious benefactor or Thanidiel is, too, quietly apologising for months of accidental mooching.

@jessipalooza

[teechew]

A little Felo @brothersemberfell commissionned by @tyleril-silversword ! Thank you for commissionning me!

[rimebane]

Death by fat rolls

@brothersemberfell​, @ocarina-of-what, @isei-silva

[korammstonehoof]

OOC: Been wanting to draw for a while, decided to stretch my drawing muscled with some attempted art of an elf belonging to @quelfabulous, the wonderful person who got me into WoW rp, and the Sunguard community. So, here is Felo’thore Novastorm (formerly Emberfell), from @brothersemberfell.  I know there’s a bunch wrong with it, but I’m still learning, and practice makes improvement. On the other hand, though, I’m at least a LITTLE proud of the attempt at a little celestial fire. Thank goodness for the smudge tool.

[flamehaired]

19; thank yous

@waraylon @brothersemberfell

In her dreams, magic worked exactly as she wished it to. Eleeria stood on the battlefield, fire and light curling around her features. A wildfire -- uncontrollable by others, moving of its own accord and agenda. Flames caressed her cheek; fire was the magic of passion, and she had so much of it to share with everyone. She was a well of anger miles deep, a sea of bitterness and fury. Fire tore from her fingertips into the gigantic stag in front of them -- the Great Prince, they had called him. But fire destroyed everything, it destroyed people and plants and animals too. It did not take much to make the lesser stags explode at all. In her dreams she had done it purposefully, not accidentally -- she was so angry... And then she was being consumed. Anger was always a volatile base for any sort of magic -- the fuel enabled the fire to burn everything, including the person who wielded it. Eleeria screamed, she was burning -- she was burning alive in her dreams and she couldn't tell if anyone was there to save her, or if it was really real -- Eleeria crumpled to the ground, screaming as her insides fell to pieces. Fingers met straggled grass, and she saw her fire consume that too. Everything was burning, she wasn't able to control it-- "Eleeria. Eleeria!" The sudden shock of a man's hand across her face woke her from her nightmares. Eleeria gasped, too warm for the pleasantly cool evening. Her wide eyes met Waraylon's as he clutched his shoulder -- burned, a scald in the shape of a familiar small hand. "You're dreaming. It was only a dream." Eleeria flung herself from the bed without replying, dropping her body onto the cool bathroom tiles and laying there until she had calmed. Felo'thore, You'd taught me once that fire is a magic of passion. Well I have a lot of that. I thank you for showing me a place to go when I need to be alone and let all that passion loose. I use it more than you'd think, honestly. Sometimes I just take my paperwork and sit. It's nice, to have a place alone. I feel like so many people need me all the time now. I feel pulled in a hundred directions. I was wondering if you'd want to teach me more? I-- thought I'd be fine, that letting it out when I was angry would fix my control issues. But things still explode when I meant to cauterize, and I don't know how to make it do what I want. It's like all this anger is strangling all the common sense it knows and making it something...scary. Sorry for bothering you. Answer when you can? E.

[brothersemberfell]

Shadowlands got me thinking about where Adrian & Felo's souls would end up when they die.  Forsworn Adrianal fell from Bastion because he simply could not bear to lose the memory of his husband... who's soul he eventually finds off in another realm. : >