#timewalkers

[adunobaka]

“You know, I dont understand why you mortals get so upset over spoilers. I know everything all the time and I dont complain.”

Ambassador Chromie cosplay from World of Warcraft made by me :) Photo and edit by Butrix Production :)

AduNoBaka (IG) / LorewalkerAdu (FB) Butrix_Production (IG) / ButrixProduction (FB) I also kinda forgot to share this more than two years ago. Other pictures got lost in Tumblr void when reach was broken. So. Yay. *awkwardly laughing*

[brothersemberfell]

Visions in Smoke

Before the Timewalkers left Ironforge...

Zaladormu had given Vehk much to think about. He stood at the window threshold awake in the wee hours, feeling the frost of Dun Morogh on his face and the swell of heat from the Dwarves’s great mountain city behind him. There was once a time he wanted nothing more than to experience uncertainty. A blessing mortals of this world took for granted. But now, more than ever before did he wish to have such a fraction of his power to discern the visions and the nonsensical feelings that toyed him with incomplete clues.

He leaned on the stony sil of the window, looking over his shoulder at the merry band of companions he had joined. They were warmly wrapped in furs, some snoring, another with a single leg sticking out, and all the picture of exhaustion from their journey. Vehk brooded at the window, alertly keeping watch. It was amazing to ever see him sleeping, especially now when his mind ever so absent before had been brewing with questions since his arrival.

Knowing, would he have been so bold to attempt a swimwear contest? Would he have put on such a convincing circus act with Demetri? A smile creased his mouth as he looked over the sleeping lot with amusement. Nay. A past Vehkdormu would have seen too much ahead to feel motivated into such engagements. He distinctly remembered how others spoke of his lack of fun. For some time, Vehk continued to contemplate his current being at the window, wondering if he could be capable of the spontaneity he quietly admired in Clown or the brevity he appreciated in Bjorin. Did losing one’s certainty mean he could not act decisively?

Yes? Perhaps not. Maybe? Slowly, Vehk’s long, purple ears tilted back. By the first hour of the morning, he was finally exhausted from his own head voice and turned from the window. Instead of turning to his bed, however, he tugged a small, wooden pipe from his satchel and slipped outside to the Ironforge streets. 

The pipe was engraved with glyphs only he knew of and was carved from a light wood that no longer existed in this time. It was one of a few trinkets he’d kept close on his person when his mind craved ease and it was perhaps his favorite activities introduced to him by the mortals he mingled with. If Vehk wasn’t following the group on all fours of his druidic illusion, he was often seen smoking from the pipe, ever contemplating what whispers a past voice could still tell him. His sacrifice to the Dragon Soul did not leave him without some measure of intuition, and with the aid of the pipe, some fractured pieces of himself seemed to manifest.

Perhaps it was ironic that his clearest of visions now only came in elements devoid of true clarity, and even then did divination behave fair weather with him. It was maddening at times, but Vehk refused to give up hope that something- anything could help guide the Timewalkers to the source of the disturbance. 

Now, Vehk leaned back lazily against the stone facade of the Ironforge inn outside, taking a long draw and feeling his lungs expand much larger than his humanoid  illusion. Out swirled an impressive cloud from his nostrils, billowing in rope-like rings that circled and swirled before him. 

The dragon narrowed his eyes, watching the swirls of his condensed breath twist and play the air teasingly. A muscle feathered in his jaw in frustration, measuring each second that passed with acute scrutiny. His eyes slipped shut. Nothing but smoke.

Vehk stilled when he opened his eyes next- pupils blowing out wide as the smoke had taken form beyond his expectation. A definitive feeling sank like a hard stone in his stomach, watching the flash of fel-green scatter like lightning across the clouds of his breath. The form of a menacing demonic figure, with its horns and claws and glowing eyes standing over the familiar silhouettes of his companions who appeared brought to their knees in subservience struck Vehk with fierce alarm. It was a vision, lucid but true. Certain and inevitable.

He needed to warn them immediately, but in horror, Vehk discovered he could not move. He could not breathe. The flash of light he witnessed was not exclusive to the smoke in his vision. Had he been careless?

“Ah, the bronze warrior-prophet,” hissed a voice behind him. “What a shadow you are now, but still managing to stick your nose in places it doesn’t belong.”

Vehk bellowed with rage, struggling against the force that slowly suffocated his every movement. No matter how fierce his roar, it failed to pass his lips.

“Tsk- tsk. Seeing the future is cheating. We will not have you spoiling our plans.”

With the last of his strength, Vehk forced the pipe from his hands in the short snap of a portal, sending it to the safety of Nessa’s bag. Then, both the voice and his corporeal form seemed to shatter into thin air, leaving nothing behind.

[brothersemberfell]

The Bronze Call

Rain pattered on broad leaves above and the clap of droplets on the old wooden planks were a welcome music to his long ears. A kal’dorei man draped in simple leathers leaned against a broad vale oak tree, bandaging his bruised knuckles under a dry spot in the pouring rain. To the humble grove of druids, he was Vehk Moonmane, an acolyte of the claw with bright silvery hair. To few others, he was no druid.

Tempting as it was to rewind insignificant threads around his aching hands, there was something deeply charming about this way of healing. It was slow, gradual, flawed.

Satisfying.

Time, to him, ticked by so quickly. Perhaps it was small things such as allowing a few bloody knuckles to heal under cloth and salve- such simple mortal things- that Vehk found comfort in. His silvery eyes flicked up to watch another trainee hold a broad leaf over another and shield them from the rain. A lover? A friend? Kindness was easy to find in a downpour. He had come to know many in the grove in his time there, and many who had inspired his next period of reclusion from prying eyes. To out his true nature was forbidden, but like a true chameleon, he found ease with other shapeshifters.

Tucking the remaining bolt of linen under his arm, Vehk rested his head against the trunk of the tree, wishing he had such a broad leaf nearby and handy. His eyes slowly slipped shut as he comfortably folded his arms. If there was one thing about the outdoors he appreciated, it was a lazy nap under a tree. Such simple things brought a busy mind solace.

“Moonmane.”

Vehk opened one eye, frowning in annoyance at the voice disturbing a rest he intended to take. It was the gravelly voice of the Elder Raventhorn. The owlish, large-nosed, portly kal’dorei man had appeared from behind the trunk of the tree in his feathered robes. The water seemed to roll right off of his silhouette, as feathers so curiously did. “Do not give me that look, boy,” chided the old druid. “Thinking you can take a nap here of all places.”

“Of course not,” replied Vehk flatly.

Elder Raventhorn smiled in a way a father did, giving his finger a waggle at the other before reaching into his cloak and pulling out a sealed parchment. Vehk narrowed his eyes as it was thrust upon his folded arms.

“The deepest part of the forest speaks. One that which measures all manners of nature’s perpetual cycles. You must be the one to act upon it. I know no other capable.”

Taking the parchment from Elder Raventhorn, Vehk’s face hardened with sudden alarm. “And why, Elder Raventhorn, do you believe such a task is set out for me?”

The Elder looked out over the sprawling grove as he spoke softly. “We know what you are. Who you are, dragon. You’re foolish to not think it easy for druids to tell.” He waved his hand nonchalantly. “Go on. Read it. It is for your eyes, not mine. Needn’t worry. Your secret is safe among the grove.”

Vehk blinked slowly, halfway caught between embarrassed and indignant. “I know not what you’re talking about,” he barked in denial. He pried open the sealed parchment to read the message inside. Then it crumbled into fine sand and slipped between his fingers. Vehk rubbed his temple and frowned. How could he have not foreseen this? It was true his powers had weakened and only blips of the future seemed to visit him in dreams now.

Conceding with his duty, Vehk turned to Elder Raventhorn with his mouth pressed into a thin line. He was deeply unamused about his identity being known.

“I suppose I must go.”

The Elder smiled and clapped a hand on the broad elf’s shoulder. “You’ve always been such a gloomy one. Will everything be okay?”

Vehk narrowed his eyes thoughtfully before turning away. “You have the gift of uncertainty. Cherish it, Elder Raventhorn.”

The rain soaking his hair and leathers bothered him not. Vehk disappeared into the cathedral of trees, leaving the Elder to watch him leave. As Vehk ventured further into seclusion in the grove, he came upon a curious stone monolith framed by mossy platforms around it. Unclasping his earring, he pushed it into a perfectly fitting hole in the monolith  and the platforms rumbled underneath him. With great ease, they descended into the ground with him on them before grinding back into place.

He was now in a massive room of his own, a collection of his armor, books, and beloved things- all sealed in a pocket of time. His leathers elongated to robes and a stave floated to his beckoning hand. With no one to see his eyes flash a vibrant gold and the blast of sand and fleshy wings from his back, Vehk prepared for his first travel in eight short years. With a roar, the room shook and the floor gave way to a massive chronometric rune. Space and time warped around the great dragon’s golden silhouette and within seconds, it was over.

Vehk emerged from the ground to a slightly thicker forest and blinked the gold from his eyes.

“It is never a good time to find a divergence,” he muttered to himself dryly, replacing his earring from the monolith and venturing into his next duty as a warden of the bronze flight.

[adunobaka]

“On a long enough timeline, everything works out.” Ambassador Chromie cosplay from World of Warcraft made by me :) Photo and edit by amazing Nina Annabelle :)

AduNoBaka (IG) / AdurnaNoBaka (FB) Nina_Annabelle (IG) / NinaAnnabelleFotografie (FB)

[youthinkyouhavetime]

[zirnesttheshaman]

6.2.3 looks like a great patch: 2 new mounts, both of which look awesome, CATACLYSM TIMEWALKERS, an even faster way to gear alts, and cross realm mythic raids. Plz blizzard make it happen soon.

[abyssticus]

Timewalkers are the only true place where you can prove you’re good at your class (rotation wise). Plus you can use old gear you worked your ass off to get.

[alkaria]

I just The logic behind WoD is so confusing. Somehow, this two-bit wannabe Nozdormu gets it into his head that it's a good idea to let Garrosh attack the true timeline, no doubt thanks to wrathion, who by this point if he's even still good should have been slapped and told that he's doing more harm than help. And this bronze dragon (bear in mind that the bronze dragons are reliant on mortals to patrol the timeways) systematically recruits an army of mortals and infinite dragons and PEOPLE FROM DIVERGED TIMELINES to attack a gathering of the most important beings in history. And no one noticed. He hid it from everyone. And then, after all that, he is able to escape with the most hated orc on the planet, jump into A DIFFERENT DIMENSION (not a timeline, apparently, because bronze dragons were clearly ALWAYS able to do that [they were never able to do that]) then, from said dimension, connect their dark portal to OUR dark portal, despite the dark portal being a PERMANENT BRIDGE BETWEEN TWO SPECIFIC PLANETS and a creation of immense magical capability that took the power of A DARK GOD to realise. With no repercussions. No world-shattering events (Cata was a year ago in Azeroth, remember) and somehow, still, we are on the defensive. This magical interference is not a big I AM HERE arrow to all magically attuned creatures of a certain power level like the dragons or the titanic watchers. This makes absolutely no sense. Either Kairoz stole the demon soul and ate it, or his power is completely wrong in comparison to the rest of his flight. His ability to remain completely undetected despite supposedly masterminding this huge thing is inexplicable, given how involved he is with the Timewalkers. The fact that he is able to literally connect the dark portal across two separate universes is something that should have galaxy-shattering implications. So why is he so irrelevant? Why are the orcs the main villains? Why aren't we more worried? Why have Blizzard created so many lore plotholes and loopholes and black holes all in the name of an 'epic' story that none of us can actually make sense of with only a couple of months until the expansion is meant to release??