Trudging through the battle-scarred outskirts of Ashenvale, a lone saber searched for his lost rider. Together they had fought in the skirmish between the Warsong and Sentinels, fresh wounds from the fight still marring Basern’s body. But when the orc’s catapults had hurled down their fiery boulders, the blasts had separated both saber and rider. The heavy rain washed away the blood and dirt staining Basern’s fur, filling the battlefield with a damp haze. Smelling the familiar scent of his mistress, he followed the trail until he found her.
Lydira Mistgale lay lifeless in the grass, rain-thinned blood rolling off her unmoving body. The beast nudged her with his mighty head, imploring that she wake. But she did not A deep rumble sounded in the saber’s throat, demanding that she move. But she did not. Basern’s ears turned down, head bowed as she stood protectively of Lydira’s lifeless body. His empty saddle weighed heavy of his back, never again to be ridden by the elf who raised him.
An illustration about the history of Basern, Acrona’s current nightsaber mount. Acrona was eventually introduced to him since her previous mount had passed away. She still often struggles to control the large sentinel saber on the battlefield - especially if he catches the scent of orcs. The description was witten by my kind and skilled friend Kaldrinal.
vaporwave
jimmyeatworldofficial
2087
stormborns
