#varad

[maramaramarx]

does your muse believe in soul mates?

No specific characters, so let's run the gamut!

Allerion: No. His soul belongs to the Light and only the Light is fit to keep it. He's so fucking obnoxious.

Cyri: Falls in (and out of) love with every third person she meets... Maybe every other. So soulmates? Hah.

Kelanthael: Without a doubt. He'd spent thousands upon thousands of years with his husband and when he died, the rest of Kel's life was spend anticipating seeing him again.

Khali: Yes, but actually no, but a little yes. She's in an open relationship with her goblin gal, but she's so head over heels for that gob and that gob alone that there may as well not be other people on Azeroth the moment she spots her. So, kinda sorta has her soulmate, but is willing to share?

Lliane: She'd never considered having one and doesn't really get it. But if you explain it to her, she'd say "Oh, so Teeree?" and that'd be that.

Varad: No. Next question.

Verac: No, but fate seems certain on reuniting him with a specific person.

(Thanks for the ask, Philly bb @glitchphil )

( Mention and soft mention respectively @tirrea and @aneirra-gravesworn )

[fence-macabre]

“Feh! They are looking for real show. Not paper and trick.” The Arakkoa had a way of making himself known suddenly, a better one at stealing the show. He would pour out of his wagon, a cacophony of noise the moment the door opened and the impossibly sized figure for its space shared its visage with the world. 

“Sit, sit, SIT.” He would invite and command, throwing the stools hung from the walls of his wagon into a semi-circle around what would soon become his stage.  Within minutes his wagon’s wall would be lowered into a standing stage and soon he would parade out creatures exotic and strange, monstrous and deformed, beautiful and enchanting, as if within his shop were a portal able to produce creatures of nightmares and dreams. Perhaps most miraculous of all though was the hen tucked under his arm that he cradled and showered with affection with one of his sets of talons while the other did all the work. 

“Do not look at little Varad, the show is on stage,” he would crow at the spectators if ever he caught wandering eyes. The rules of his show were simple: 

Tip the performers. 

Do not touch. 

If you have money, you may buy performer, then you may touch. 

Most importantly; inside wagon is for buyers with password. 

No password, no inside.

(( @bigdumbchicken ))

[thornbolts]

🎈 - Bring my muse something to cheer them up (Remy to Varad)

The bird and the gunslinger often butted heads. They seemed like two… opposites, and Gregory always advised Rem to be wary of Varad. Nevertheless, she always did like to be on everyone’s good side–or try to be, at least. It was the best way to foster trust.

Her spurs clinked as she strode up to Varad’s wagon, shoebox clutched against her side with a neat bow.

‘VARAD,

EVEN IF WE’RE OFTEN AT ODDS, I STILL VALUE YOU AS PART OF MY CARAVAN. HERE’S SOMETHING YOU MIGHT LIKE.

-REMY’

She smacked her knuckles against the weathered door and left the box at its base. And should one open it they’d find…

A pair of tiny socks seemingly intended for Little Varad.

[ @bigdumbchicken ]

[maramaramarx]

Any/All: deadwind pass: has your muse ever been offered a position of power? how did they react? did they refuse? / what is your muse’s favourite azerothian holiday? do they prefer the merry revelry of brewfest, or the ceremonious dignity of the lunar festival, etc?

Power -

Kelanthael’s never been offered any position of power, largely because he’s refused any offer before it can be given to him.

Cyri, never.

Khali desires a position of some power. She wants to prove her worth as a servant of Gonk and, in turn, be recognized as an authority on raptor care-taking and rearing. It’s been her dream since she was very young and it’s what drives her to continue honing her craft even after having to leave her home.

Allerion (my death knight) took his place as a Field Commander of the knights stationed at Acherus with a sense of entitlement. Widely hated by many of his peers, his service record is outstanding and he is practically in a class of his own amongst many of his fellows. The position was granted to him following the collapse of his regiment, in which the leader and several of her officers abandoned the Ebon Blade. He, being the only loyalist officer, reacted to this chance for power by betraying every deserter and beginning a campaign to hunt down each one of them and those involved with damaging the Ebon Blade’s structure. There’s a reason literally no one likes him.

Varad had a chance at power amongst the outcasts before he, for reasons unanswered, abandoned his people. It’s very likely the reason he left has something to do with what he might have used that brief chance of power to gain.

Verac’thar was a loyalist to Kael’thas until the very end and for the briefest of moments had a level of power during the Illidan/Kael’thas led Northrend campaign before things, as they so often do, fell apart. He was proud to serve while he did and would gladly have followed his prince until the very end if he could.

Holidays -

Kelanthael loves to flex his legendary tolerance during Brewfest

Cyri only ever really celebrated the Harvest Festival, but if she got to attend the lunar festival she’d probably fall in love with it

Khali’s been to one Darkmoon Faire, but completely believes that it is 1. A holiday outside of Zandalar and 2. The greatest thing ever

Allerion doesn’t celebrate hoildays

Varad mocks people that celebrate holidays (but pretends to be in an Arakkoa costume for candy during Hallow’s End)

Verac’thar’s favourite isn’t the Day of the Dead, but it’s the only one he places reverence and importance into. Saying it’s his favourite would send the wrong kind of message after all

@ms-winford

[maramaramarx]

Some people aren’t bird people. Varad’s not a people bird.

First Rule: Tag nine muses you would like to know better!

Second Rule: Bold the statements that are true for your muse (use italics for situational/verse dependent)

appearance.

I am 6′2″" or taller (8′10″ with a wicked hunch)

I wear glasses

I have at least one tattoo (does a branding count?)

I have at least one piercing

I have blonde hair

I have brown eyes

I have short hair

My abs are at least somewhat defined

I have or have had braces

personality.

I love meeting new people (customers)

People tell me that I’m funny

Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me (if they are interested in buying)

I enjoy physical challenges

I enjoy mental challenges

I’m playfully rude with people I know well

I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it

There is something nothing I would change about my personality

ability.

I can sing well

I can play an instrument

I can do over 30 push-ups without stopping

I’m a fast runner

I can draw well

I have a good memory

I’m good at doing math in my head

I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute

I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling (talons help)

I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch

I know how to throw a proper punch

hobbies.

I enjoy playing sports (Is poaching a sport?)

I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else

I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else

I have learned a new song in the past week

I work out at least once a week

I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months

I have drawn something in the past month (A landscape of the Badlands)

I enjoy(ed) writing

I do or have done martial arts

experiences.

I have had my first kiss

I have had alcohol

I have scored the winning goal in a sports game

I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting

I have been at an overnight event

I have been in a taxi

I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year

I have beaten a video game in one day

I have visited another country/planet/galaxy/universe

I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts

relationships.

I’m in a relationship

I have a crush on a celebrity

I have a crush on someone I know

I have been in at least 3 relationships

I have never been in a relationship

I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them

I get crushes easily

I have had a crush on someone for over a year

I have been in a relationship for at least a year

I have had feelings for a friend

my life.

I have at least one person I consider a “best friend”

I live close to my school

My parents are still together

I have at least one sibling

I live in the United States

There is snow right now where I live

I have hung out with a friend in the past month

I have a smartphone

I have at least 15 CDs

I share my room with someone

random.

I have break-danced

I know a person named Jamie

I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce (for simple minded non-Arakkoa it seems)

I have dyed my hair

I’m listening to one song on repeat right now

I have punched someone in the past week

I know someone who has gone to jail (exile count?)

I have broken a bone

I have eaten a waffle today

I know what I want to do with my life

I speak at least 2 languages (Common, Gutterspeak, Dwarvish, Orcish)

TAGGED BY: @thornbolts

Tagging: @hinahinagray (Taoln), @thornbolts (Remy, again), @ms-winford (There’s a character you haven’t done this on yet, right?), @thornbolts (Angrin!), @star-spire (Ily and Vixie), @jollyparaphernalia (Do you do these? Do Mel. For me? Pretty please?)

[fence-macabre]

Ol’ Harper greets you as you approach with a hearty, friendly cackle and a slappin’ of his knee. “So y’came back now, did’ja? Well that’s just fine & dandy, ‘cuz yer just in time for the next part of the ongoin’ saga of the Fence Macabre...”

ON THE MOVE: LOCH MODAN - PART I

The gang had just discovered a buried Titan Chamber containing a mysterious disc that was turning everything around it into gold! And so, some of the more adventurous types took on the task of journeying to find an expert by the name of Tavish Barelytoe, recommended by their temporary employer Prospector Pendergast. Others stayed to guard the rest of the caravan at Camp Tombstone, though they surely didn’t have quite as excitin’ a time.

Our heroes made rest briefly in the dense woods by what remains of the great Loch Modan... but not without drawin' the attention of the locals. Just as they were about to start packin' up to leave, a dwarven ranger company sportin' a group of two dozen mountaineers made their approach, hot on their tails. Not ones to needlessly risk their hides, the adventurers scattered. They hid behind the ancient trees as Ryeolan Quillsong, the only caravan member that could pose as a neutral party, stayed out in the open to attempt some outfoxin'.

The dwarves cautiously questioned her, though Ryeolan proved to be about as useful to them as a mule in an oak tree. Frustrated at the lack of answers or Horde sightings, most of them dwarf rangers left, leaving only four surrounding the pandaran. The Fence Macabre came up with a plan with Verac’thar usin’ his fancy telepathic noggin-talk: “Take them out one by one once our diversion arrives. You’ll know it when you see it.” 

But they were runnin' outta time as one of the rangers kept creepin' closer and closer toward Ami Vieredreaux. Counting on them dwarves bein’ better shooters than thinkers, the Shal’dorei Shit Chef wandered out of the tree's cover, posin' as a Night Elf! And wouldn’t y’know it, it actually worked! Terrible accent and all... For a few seconds, at least. But a few seconds was all our heroes needed.

Verac’thar’s diversion came through by means of his master, the mysterious and unpredictable Arrakoa named Varad, tramplin' through the dwarves’ huntin’ party on a the back of giant-ass icehoof, crushin' one of ‘em flat as a flapjack! 

And on cue, the caravan knocked out the rest of dwarves in a brilliant display: Remington Thornbolt clubbed one over the head with the blunt side of her axe while Verac'thar choked out another with his shadowy magic. Miss Loira Winford used her magic to freeze the hands of another, renderin’ him unable to put holes in her companions as he originally planned. Ryeolan, the notorious Inkslinger, lived up to her namesake, slingin’ ink directly in one of those dumb ol’ dwarves faces, slappin’ his hide clean off like she was his own momma! Ami, always the resourceful sort, looked to nature for a solution as she smashed one of the dwarves upside the head with a big hunk’a branch. And poor little Billy Highman tried let loose on their assailants with a shot from his derringer, but thankfully that didn't attract more dwarves in the process of missing his only shot completely.

With their pursuers dispatched, the members of the Fence Macabre, thankfully no worse for wear, plotted their next move...

[grim-world-creations]

The goliath & the red fox

Vol. 1 beginnings

Varad was born into a seasonally nomadic clan of goliaths. His people migrating down from their sacred mountain village into the plains below the mountains. When the lands thawed and nature budded they released their herds from the cave networks that honeycombed the mountains. Spending the bulk of the year traversing the planes as the herds roamed and grazed getting fat they'd be led back in the fall. The mountain villages of the goliaths where high peering over the clouds. The ancient mountains, sacred and majestic where home to many clans of goliaths.

Varad showed a knack for tinkering and crafting at a young age. But grew up as the wrest of the children of his clan did. Learning to move across the mountains cliffs with ease. Of the spirits that shaped and guided the world if only you can calm your heart to hear the voices of nature.

While largely self sufficient his clan enjoyed trading with other settlements. On his first fall season as an adult he had been given permission to leave his duties to go to a nearby human town. To trade his furs and other creations of his own design. The trade had been bountiful happily coming home with foods and seasonings from a far off land he had never heard of and a steal sword forged in the capital city of the human led empire. But when he began his journey home a storm of black clouds with sickly, malevolent, green light flashing inside with each kakophic clash of thunder.

The unnatural wicked storm clung to the mountains like rot on a corpse. For days he ran. Feet bloodied and raw by the time he reached the cliffs to climb up to his home. But the climb was horrific and violent. A battle between the raging winds, the earth rattling thunder, the lightning that melted the mountainside to glass with each directed blast. But still he climed no other thought in his head just to throw one hand over the other and drag himself up to his home.

Reaching the cliffside that housed the gate of his home shattered and smoldering. As the vile winds ripped away at it. The smoke and embers being dragged violently off to the side disappearing into the black clouds. His village matron strode from the whirlwind of darkness from their shattered home. Her old frail body walking forward as if the wind could not touch her. While he dug his bloodied raw feet and hands into the earth just to stay in place. Kilai Woundripper the ancient woman casually walked up to him her tribal tattoos seeming to squirm and shift in the wicked green flashes of light. Cupped his face and lifted it too hers and just smiled down at Varad. The wind ripping the dripping black fluid off her body. Peeling him up on his knees she gave his cheek a gentle clap. And he was claimed by the wind. Ripped from his home the storm flung him through the mountains peaks and valley's. Battering him to a point well beyond death. Through no choice of his own he persisted through the pain. When finally the cold engulfing brace of death came for him and all went black. That too was taken from him. Flung into a river and being thrown about in its currents his body slammed into the hull of a river boat.

How long he was unconscious is unknown. But his first sight was clear blue skies, then fully eclipsed by red. Vibrant beautiful red the likes which pumps life through your veins. And as his vision cleared the all encompassing red became four plush tails waving gently in the cool fall breeze. Tracing them to their owner a friendly face. A pale face with a kind but concerned smile. Eyes greener and more clear than any emerald. A beautiful face only marred by the black rings of sleepless nights hugging her eyes. With that the stain of consciousness took its toll and for the time being he slumped back into his oblivion.

[maramaramarx]

Honesty hour: What did your characters dream of in childhood?

Allerion: He did not want to serve the light as a Paladin. He didn't want to serve the light at all. He wanted to work in the family butchery and one day take over with whomever he would start a family with. But he was the second oldest son and after opportunity presented itself he was sent to serve the Silver Hand through a connection his father had with one of its members. Given Allerion's ultimate fate, he became a butcher. First at Stratholme, then again in death among the Ebon Blade. So, sometimes dreams do come true.

Cyri: Her first dream was to marry her twin Cyril cause she loved him more than anyone else in the whole wide world. Cyril told her she was an idiot. By the time she was six she realised that's not how marriage works, but the idea was there. She wanted to find love and, since her town had a whopping sub-hundred population, the fire was lit for her to travel. Eventually that dream evolved to wanting to see the world and get as far away from the farm as possible. Now after a third of a century later, she just wants to come home and see it like it was when she was young.

Kelanthael: When they were young, Azeroth was a much simpler place. They wanted to soar the skies, to pierce the veil of the dream, to see Azeroth in all her glory both waking and asleep. They wanted to grow old and spread the wisdom of their lives to younger and younger generations. Now, in his old age, he's done so much more than his younger self could have ever dreamed and with all of his youtful ambitions filled... well, now he's just waiting to see what his last days entail.

Khali: When she was young, she was terrified of raptors. Her dream was to never see another one again. No Gonk, no scales, no claws. She didn't even like Gonk! Khali knew what she wanted and that was to run away. Go where no one would find her. The dunes of Vol'dun or maybe even one of the other continents. No one, and she meant no one, would ever ever get her to like raptors. And then she got an egg on her eight birthday. Twenty years later, her pack's over two dozen strong and that egg hatched into Kerhana, her riding raptor and her pack's matriarch (behind herself, of course).

Varad: Varad was born with his future decided for him. Varad would worship Rukhmar and serve as a priest for Varad's people. Varad was filled with contempt for everything his people cherished and wanted nothing more than to see it burn. After being thrown from the spires, that dream was emboldened and thrived. Imagine Varad's joy when that dream came to fruition and Varad learned there were infinitely other universes where history would repeat itself.

Verac'thar: A child of noble origin, to a line of prominent members of the magisters, they dreamed of nothing more than to serve the light. Being the youngest of seven, there weren't many expectations of tradition resting on their shoulders. They were enchanted by the tradition and history and had their heart stolen by more than a few members. They loved to serve and threw themselves into it fully and it was their life for nearly two hundred years.

@ms-winford