But it isn't like she and her "group" can't drive me off the server—because I've long left it behind. And it was I who originally introduced them to "Minecraft" which I had made a realm and invited them alongside friends. However, when people were suggesting I made a server—I told them it would take me awhile to make one. Well—Niklos couldn't wait and took everyone off from my realm and invited them to 'their server' without inviting me which I had to third-party to get a invite because I didn't even know about it!
And many don't know the actually reason why I left Moon Guard—it was due to "Niklos Adamant" Guild Leader of the Remnants of Lordaeron and it wasn't due to the "Minecraft" incident. They are manipulative and most of this stems due to lack of communication from them and other people. The only person that really communicated to me about any complaints was the leader from the Residuum. Apparently "Niklos" had a problem with me for months but never communicated about it once despite our close proximity in-game and being friends in discord. They never contacted me to expression their complaints to me directly for "months" and when they did contact me about it—
Literally didn't communicated back with me for "months" via discord and accused me of "siccing" my friends after them. When I wasn't even online in-game for that and don't know the full context of what had happened. Just that I was doing a role-play that involved someone wanting to role-play with people from the Cathedral group and that wanted to be involved with my story. But something happened and it blew way out of proportion and was never given screenshots of what actually occurred from either party. But as you can see Niklos hadn't contacted me since December of 2021 and all the way until May of 2022 and /whisper communication in-game was non-existent.
And the screenshots in regards to the conversation that had with Hillsbradian below were originally shown to me by Niklos herself before I joined their discord back in 2019 when I had originally joined Moon Guard and was desperate for friends. I should have taken screenshots but I never thought anything like this could occur in the future with "drama"
Basically they whispered me this tinyurl link that they were "sad" that these screenshots were going around framing them in a bad way and that they were fake. And basically said something like this: "you know that isn't my discord profile picture and name" and I was dumb enough to believe them—because I didn't know better and was just desperate for a friend. However the conversation always hit me as fishy because—"you can change your profile picture and name" at any time!
I stumbled back on the screenshots here on tumblr and clearly other people seem to be aware of them and that they aren't "fake"
I've made even more people aware of them. For example: "Gnews" "Eveneah Rosewood" and some of the core officers and the leader for the "Residuum of Icecrown" are aware of the screenshots and if there is more evidence apparently this Maxen has them.
Including of Bishop "Tyragonfal" which the Residuum of Icecrown does have a document about them with evidence for why they are "blacklisted"
Tyragonfal also stalked my character from the Residuum of Icecrown various times until I had to join a voice chat for the "Midnight Repose" to tell them to stop parking themselves right nearby me in emote range. They would also metagame using their alt in the Residuum of Icecrown at the time called "Nightravens" and they are a 38+ female player who was sending inappropriate messages to the officers from the Residuum of Icecrown in a very "s*xuel matter" and seem to target young men for their "r*pe" kinks and even wrote an inappropriate fanfiction with them and another character without their consent. Eitherway "Midnight Repose" defends them and Niklos gave them a high role in their Remnant of Lordaeron discord.
The bishop has cornered the knight! With a holy lance of Light the size of a tauren beneath Niklos' palm, the bishop turns his eyes to his target. "Any last words?"
Very few things could lay him low quicker than an incredibly adept Light Weilder. And this... looked like it could be it. Sneering up, the Worgen forced himself upright, tossing his runeblade to the side--he had barely been able to to do that. There was no mistaking the cold rage in his eyes as he faced his demise.
“Tch. Now we know which one of us is the monster.”
(I had not laughed like this in a time. Wrote this sudden rp up in story form, so here you go, enjoy, lol Thanks to niklosadamant and renwyck for participation. I love randomness like this.)
Safrona thanked the stars for the little things, when stumbling upon the rylak cave lead her to shelter from toe-numbing tundras to relaxing natural hot springs. Unable to resist the call of a good bath, the Courier spoiled herself silly.
Unfortunately, a courier was somehow ALWAYS on duty, even when she did not know it.
"....what in the Fel..." A deep portion of the pools began to swirl, funneling to welcome in company. The gigantic green crawdad emerged proudly from the waters with a wonderfully made cheesecake on claw as a gift. Click-clack, click clack was the all too formal greeting.
...Alas, the scarlet-haired elf only saw...red. Already the water started to bubble with unnatural heat, felflames rushing in a panic to her fingers. "GET OUT OF MY BATH WATER!!"
Wisely, the crawdad evacuated the bubbling waters as the Elder faced the offended elflette.
Safrona seemed to have dropped the red cloak for one of dark green in this land, finding it made her stick out less like a sore thumb in the wintry Frostfire lands. She clung to it alone as she narrowed her eyes at the huge crawdad, who had escaped the superheated 'cauldron' that was created in her surprised panic. "...you are not Pinchy. What...are you?" She poked at the creature with a nearby stick. The cake, sadly had melted into the boiling waters.
The large crawdad gave a very formal 'clack', then at the box of melted cheesecake...cheesecake! It was her favourite...
Safrona tilted her head, fel-mist eyes softening slightly at the smell of melted cheesecake. She slowly drew her self down on her knees at the bank of the pool, the waters slowly cooling back down to bearable temperature. "Did Niklos send you?" There was now a faint surprise that took over the pleasant details of the face.
The crawdad nodded. The normal Pinchy would have been clicking quite excitedly. But this one...the crawdad reached up with one gigantic pincer and...stroked its feelers like a beard.
Safrona by now was staring at the elder crawdad, trying to make sense of its presence and what the cake had meant. In a very elegant manner, she slunk back into the depths of the relaxing waters, now mixed with a bit of cake. "...business is it? I am sure he is expecting something in return."
Turning to search through her belongings, she wrote something on a little scroll of paper, then tucked it into an air-tight scroll-case before handing it to the crawdad to take. "Do take it to him."
Taking in a longer sight of this...new companion, the Courier frowned in thought.
"...you are not Pinchy's replacement, are you?" She blinked slowly, trying not to look affected. "Has something happened to the little orange one?"
For all her talents, Safrona was unable to speak crawdad. She watched as the gigantic green creature scuttled around - picking up fallen robes, putting her boots and cloak neatly back in place. It even took a strainer to scoop up bits of the cheesecake out of the bath. Upon finishing, the cavern floor sparkled, and the crawdad settled down with a large bucketsized cup of...tea.
"...." Safrona merely watched silently as the crawdad posed as a butler and cleaned up everything. "Tea..?" A long eyebrow lofted as the crawdad sat with a...bucket. Indeed...only the Med--only the Bishop would keep such a convenient creature. The cavern that Safrona had found herself in Frostfire was spotless. "...are you staying here?"
The crawdad clicked..apparrently waiting for something. The bucket of tea bubbled as the crawdad sipped at it, blowing small bubbles. There was something refined about this much larger one.
Safrona....sighed. She pulled her gaze away from the crawdad to stare at a darker corner of the cavern. Something was hiding. "Oh, get out of the corner already. Its JUST a crawdad."
The male Sin'dorei snickered as he unraveled from the shadows, lithe muscle slinking back the foggy waters. "Gonna tell me who your friend is, Red?"
'Senior' clicked, taking his time to finish his bucket. He did not seemed bothered by the newcomer. Instead, he continued to sit, eyeing the two with a strange sense of...authority.
"It is a friend of a sort, companion to a client," Safrona started to explain. "I suppose he sent some sort of gift. There *was* cheesecake, anyway. Hm..sort of smells good. I can live with this." The rogue grins widely at Safrona, and then at the crawdad, his voice dripping with a tease. " Well you can't have dessert without having a main course first..."
The large crawdad...did not miss a beat. A giant pincer came down, snapping at the elf's ears - barely missing.
The rogue was quite aware of his own safety, if a little surprised by his company. A deft, serpentile move had him avoiding the giant claw easily, sinking back into his naturally eased pose of relaxing against the wall of the pool. Safrona smirked, not the least bothered by the rogue's presence in the cavern or pool, despite her lack of clothing. "Oh, you have another fan I see, Lightmorn."
"Senior" clicked disapprovingly at Safrona, as if chiding her on her choice of companion. Having polished off his bucket of tea, he picked up the scroll was asked to deliver back to the bishop. Another click, a *bow*, and he spun around and started to scuttle off.
As the two elves watched the crawdad slowly descend the depths of the pool and transport itself away from the caverns as only some magical crustacean could, Deyin snickered. The smell of cheesecake was everywhere.
"A cleaning, cooking lobster that drinks tea AND bakes? Think I've seen one more wonder of the world." The Sin'dorei shifted in the hot waters as he watched Safrona rise to wring out her long hair, steam rising off of wet, bare skin.
"Mm. Makes two right there."
"Don't get any ideas." The Courier spoke with a coyness, reaching for her belongings. "He might come back after you and snip off something vital. Crawdads are protective."
Deyin's grin stretches, as if to test her. "As if you would let that happen to me. You need me, Red. More ways that one...c'mere." He beckoned lasciviously.
Safrona met his playful face with insidious intent. "Maybe what I am is hungry. I have never had broiled Sin'dorei before...." She touched the water with a toe, setting it to heat to uncomfortable levels, driving the rogue from its surface once more. Keeping the rogue away with a hint of eerie glinting eyes, she chuckled, winning the game, and began to dress.
(Rp that went on after the Courier received a certain Watcher's letter )
The red figure awaited in the Temple Gardens of Tyr’s Hand, staring idly on the few Gilnean white roses growing in the small section of it. The Bishop was...late, strangely. The recent deliveries, all have left by the steps of the cathedral. This morning however, one of the novices had mentioned the Bishop being in. Yet he was nowhere to be seen.
Safrona sighed, pulling out her beacon to contact him. He'd become more forgetful of late, not that she could blame him. She was ahead of schedule anyway. "Bishop Adamant, where can I find you?"
The shuffling of robes could be heard, and while her beacon stayed silent, the sound of the Bishop could be heard followed by the clattering of pincers.
"Oh...you are early," Niklos said after a moment. He was...a little worse for wear. The usual pristine robes were a little loose, the glasses lopsided, and even the long ivory hair was loose, lacking the white embroidered ribbon that strapped it up.
Her own state of dress methodically neat, Safrona lowered her hood to take a second look at the uncharacteristically disheveled Niklos. A crimson eyebrow quirked, adding expression to an otherwise numb face. Hers was a fetching face, if one appreciated the lifeless prettiness of expensive porcelain dolls. All the red tried to make up for her lack of passion. "Apologies..." she would lilt. "As much as I appreciate random business, like last week, I needed to speak with you. But if you need time..."
Niklos blinks, and ran his hand over his face, pulling his bangs back. "No...no no no...if you have business here, by all means," he said, giving the elf a dismissive wave. He sauntered forward, a little off balance. Stumbling forward, he planted himself into the white lattice chair in the middle of the garden.
"Is Rakellos doing weekly deliveries now? I haven't even opened the last crate."
"Have you not been drinking?" The elf clicked her tongue against her teeth in mild disapproval. "You know you need it. Rakellos would be disappointed if he knew sending these crates was a waste. Not to mention that he would worry, seeing you as you are." She seated herself slowly opposite him, studying, words just a tad softer. "Are you...well?"
"A little tired, but otherwise well," the bishop replied curtly. He pulled the glasses off and gave his face a good rub, "recent events has every running at the moment. I have not rested for a while now...but that is beside the point...what brings you here?" he asked, the now-yellow eyes peering at the courier.
There was a quiet, lingering stare, but in the end she did not press for information. It was no longer her place, and she was given little reason to care. Instead, her mind set on the last question. Safrona breathed inwardly, closing her eyes briefly before searching the inner folds of her cloak. As her fingers curled around the chain, she hesitated. "This is a rather trite request, but..." the familiar eye-shaped pendant he'd gifted to her so many years ago was laid gently on the table. Its eye was long dull. "I think I would like for you to recharge it."
There was silence, and the bishop reached over. The pale fingers brushed over the small trinket. For a moment the hard yellow eyes softened. "You wish to use this again?"
Safrona shook her head faintly, her eyes not leaving the trinket as Niklos’ fingers brushed over it on the table. “It is not for me. I’ve no need for it.” She glanced away, breathing outwardly. “I...am thinking of giving it to another.” She paused, her brow furrowing as her gaze locked to Niklos uncertainly. “If...that is acceptable for you. It was yours, after all.”
Niklos frowned, "Who are you giving it to?"
“Someone that can use it. That wants to see the world, as I did.” She smiled faintly, though the smile did not quite so much touch her eyes. There was much uncertainty in the elf. “They will...take care of it.”
After all the time Niklos had known her, even in a different form now, he knew she was evading the question.
Niklos frowns, "Anna....I made the trinket for you, and you only. If you are giving it away...I should know."
Safrona was quiet for a long moment, before she sighed out a few words. "I know. You have a right." Her brow furrowed. "He is a guard of the Night Watch. In Duskwood. He is...a friend."
"...a Night Watch guardsman with that trinket?" Niklos shakes his head, "I am glad I asked...unless your friend wants to turn into a woman. You can't use that thing for him at all."
The elf blinked a few times. "Can you not..change the enchantment?
"...I can..." Niklos started, reluctance in his voice.
"I know you can." Safrona stared at him with her hollow eyes, though the felmists had started to stir with an inner glow to the presence within. "I remember the tricks up your sleeve rather well." She smiled slowly, her voice lowering. "They did not call you Zamboozle for nothing." The lace-gloved hand settled over Niklos' hand. "...it would be...very appreciated, if you could do this for me."
Niklos leaned away, drawing his hands into his sleeves. "...I made the trinket for you," he said, "not for anyone else, especially not as a party favour for 'sharing'." Hints of the old, stubborn medic came, and the bishop sat - stiff as a statue in his seat. "...I don't even know if it will work on a human."
Safrona slid her hand back into her lap. "I know you did. But I cannot use it. All I can do is...Niklos, listen. The businesswoman in me tells me I'd fetch a lovely price for it on the market. Or that it would be lovely, cut down to its components even." The elf bit into her lip, a softness settling otherwise still features. "But I do not want to do these things. The necklace is precious to me. I will just like to see it used again. I want to see the eye light." She glanced down into her lap. "That small light was once a hope. To try."
Niklos mumbled, and looked away. "...you can always return it," he muttered out. "I can just keep it in the small box I have along with everything else."
Was she not allowed to try? A chance to move on?
"...Niklos.." she sighed. "What do I have to give up to you to have you do this for me?"
Adamant shifted uneasily, in his seat. It was clear he did not want to. At all.
"...Niklos..?" She was silent for a moment, looking down to the untouched cup of tea in front of the Bishop. "...you have moved on. And I...I do not know if I can be happy again. I truly don't. But someone else makes me wish to try? I can hardly remember what that feels like, but I..I want to remember."
"If you will not fix it, may I at least pass it to his hands? For that small hope?"
"...do what you wish with it," Niklos said, his voice decisive and final, "...it is yours. A gift. I have no say in what is yours." There was no need to hide her eyes - the bishop had closed his own and turned away, opting to face the small temple garden with its bustles of roses and exotic flowers.
The Courier tilted her head, and pulled the trinket back to her gloved hands. At least...there was that. She caressed the pendant for a long moment, staring on it, before slipping it into the inner folds of her cloak. "I would not ask if there was no meaning in it for me."
"..thank you." Her voice was weather-worn, as if the gratitude came with great burden.
The bishop did not move from his seat. Instead, he simply turned away. "Good day," he replied, his voice strangely cold.
"Your delivery then? Next week?" Safrona lifted from the temple garden seat, pulling her cowl close around her face.
"Next week," Niklos replied, not turning back to greet her, "you may leave it at the door."
"...of course," the Courier spoke very quietly, her voice solemn. She called on the Bloodwing, awaiting on it to carry her away.
Later that evening, Safrona killed her miserating thoughts again at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. She closed her fingers around the Watcher's letter, heart-worn, the dull iris of the eye-shaped pendant offering no hope against the cold echo of Niklos’ dismissal.
