The Last Darkmorn @taricdarkmorn - Tumblr Blog

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The Basics –––

Full Name: Taric Sunflare (’Darkmorn’)

Nicknames: Tar

Age: Adult

Birthday: February 21st

Race: Sin’dorei Gender: Male

Marital Status: Single

Physical Appearance –––

Hair: ‘Darkmorn’ red, fades into a more golden color and about shoulder length with a very slight wave.

Eyes: Has sectoral heterochromia, both eyes are golden, although the outer half of his right eye is blue. This is a Darkmorn trait that happens every few generations (the last was his great-grandpa).

Height: 6′0″

Build: Slender but well toned

Distinguishing Marks: Has a splash of freckles across his nose/cheeks.

Scars: Has some burn scars on the fingers/palms of both hands from alchemy accidents, has a little scar on the side of his chin from surfing, bullet scar just below and to the left of his belly button.

Tattoos: Was struck by lightning once and it left a Lichtenburg figure/fractal scar on his right arm from his shoulder to the tip of his thumb for a few days - He had a tattoo artist recreate the scars in green ink so it would look like a plant/vine. There is a ‘coagulation’ alchemical symbol in black on his middle/upper back. Has a watercolor wave tattoo around his left ankle in honor of his mom. On his right pec, has a tattoo of the Blackwater Raiders symbol.

Piercings: None

Common Accessories: Blackwater Raiders coin denoting he’s a member, communication device, twin daggers that belonged to his mom, ring with the Darkmorn insignia that belonged to his father.

Likeness: Joe Alwyn

Personal Information –––

Profession: Runs an alchemist shop in Booty Bay called ‘The Red Rook’. Mostly makes ‘helpful’ potions, but also makes a variety of ‘fun’ potions and poisons ‘under the table’. He is also a member of the Blackwater Raiders, and acts as an occasional medium out of his shop.

Hobbies: Alchemy, swimming, free diving, diving, surfing, spear fishing, deep sea fishing, kayaking, scuba diving, cliff diving.

Languages: Orcish, Thalassian, Common, Goblin, Zandali

Currently Living: A small apartment above the shop in Booty Bay.

Birthplace: Quel’thalas

Religion: The Light - Non-practicing

Fears: Finding out the truth about his father, enclosed spaces, never finding his purpose.

Disorders/Conditions: Those ‘blessed’ with the Darkmorn heterochromia tend to have the spirit-walker trait exceptionally strong in them. It essentially makes him a conduit for energy of all sorts, hence the lightning strike. He can also see beyond the Veil at all times, or as he would say he’s always ‘half in and half out’.

Personality: Exceptionally kind and giving for having spent the majority of his life in Booty Bay living among pirates and thieves. Best not to abuse that kindness, he comes from a family of witty assholes and is fully capable of becoming one himself. He tends to be reserved and pensive much of the time, but is always confident in his actions and words. He’s intelligent and loves a good challenge, but can also be a laid-back beach bum when the need calls. Taric is a natural flirt, often times not even realizing he’s doing it until someone obviously starts flirting back at him. Can definitely be ‘weird’ at times, sometimes found looking at/talking to things that don’t appear to be there.

Family –––

Mother: Melidoria Sunflare (Deceased)

Father: Turiil Darkmorn (Whereabouts unknown)

Siblings: None he is aware of.

Other Family: Tristenne ‘Red’ Darkmorn is his uncle - @tristennedarkmorn

Pets: A cockatiel named Pickles lives in the alchemy shop and is taken care of by him and the other shop employers. He greets everyone with a ‘goodbye’ and then says ‘hello’ when they are leaving.

Sex & Romance –––

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Preferred Role: Dominant | Submissive | Switch

Preferred Position: Bottom | Top | Vers

Libido: Average

Turn ons: Intelligence, confidence, humor, those who take control and make the first move

Turn offs: Laziness, impatience, disrespectfulness, arrogance

Love Language: Quality time

Relationship Tendencies: He’s never been in a long-term relationship, people never tend to stay in Booty Bay very long since it’s a port town.

Traits –––

Bold your character’s answer

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional Information –––

Smoking Habit: Never

Drugs: Socially

Alcohol: Socially

RP Hooks –––

Booty Bay Visit Booty Bay often? Live in Booty Bay? You may have ran into Taric there! He runs the alchemy shop in town, so you definitely have met him if you had a need for alchemy supplies. He also frequents the tavern and can often be found around the beaches surrounding the port town.

Alchemy He’s been making potions and poisons his entire life! His mother started out in the alchemy shop in Booty Bay which she eventually took over from one of the elderly goblins that worked there. Now that she is gone, Taric runs it himself along with a few other townsfolk. Perhaps you’ve bought potions or poisons from him before?

Blackwater Raiders His mother became a Raider and he fell under their protection. Eventually he became one as well and still falls under their protection. Maybe your character is a Raider as well and has met him through them?

Looking For –––

I’m open to anything! Friends, enemies, lovers, relationships, dark RP, slice of life RP, long or short story lines. Will not accept character death and character injury will need to be discussed prior to it happening.

Contact –––

Here on tumblr (Follows will come from @theconstructsworld) or Discord at Elysium#0072 Wyrmrest Accord - Horde in-game name is Darkmorn

Art by @art-zoratrix

#profile #info #taric #wyrmrest accord #wra #horde

ak-nm

[Post DWC Blues]: His lightning quest has been going on for many years now, what are his goals for his experiments, if any?

He doesn't necessarily have a goal, aside from wanting to be outside during a thunderstorm and not always be flinching every time. At one point he'd retreat to the storm nook inside his home every, but being such a nature boy, storms don't always allow for that. If he can easily wield the power, or maybe even not worry about getting struck by lightning at all, his life would probably vastly improve.

He hasn't even considered learning to use the power for fighting purposes, much more of a lover than a fighter. But perhaps it'll come in handy some day!

thanks @saltsparkle

#ama

DWC Wrap Up! Pickles and Taric duo is perfection. I love them! Poor Taric though, what a bad day!

Pickles is a little terror, and Taric is an idiot sometimes. They make for an excellent duo! I'm glad people enjoy this silly little ball of feathers I randomly decided to toss into RP once that just kind of stuck!

thanks @kharrisdawndancer

#ama

04k96

requiem-on-water

Bioluminescence glowing blue in the waves, as an electrical storm pierces the sky (Australia) by Trevor McKinnon

June DWC 2026 Day 3 - Shock

Pickles had stopped counting the number of times Taric had been struck by lightning. The first few had been memorable, but also a little frightening. Everyone made a fuss, healers were summoned, and Taric spent days sprawled across furniture making dramatic noises whenever he moved. After a while, lightning strikes became just another category of inconvenience. Like running out of tea, getting sand in the apartment, or accidentally creating a poison that melted through three shelves before someone noticed.

Today had started perfectly normal. Taric had left that morning carrying his surfboard and wearing his usual beach attire consisting of board shorts and a lightweight long-sleeved shirt to keep the sun off his skin. He had promised to return before dinner and had also promised Pickles treats. Pickles personally considered the second promise far more important than the first.

The shop had been closed for the day, leaving the cockatiel with the entire building to himself. He spent most of the afternoon occupying various perches near the windows, occasionally yelling "HELLO" at empty rooms just to make sure they hadn't forgotten he was there. By mid-afternoon he had migrated to the apartment above the shop and settled near the balcony doors where he could watch the harbor.

That was when the weather began to change. Dark clouds gathered over the sea, gradually overtaking the bright blue sky. The breeze strengthened, carrying the scent of rain inland. Pickles watched the approaching storm with mild annoyance. He wasn't worried about Taric exactly, lightning had tried very hard to kill Taric over the years and had yet to succeed.

The storm arrived quickly. Rain hammered the rooftops and rattled against the balcony railing while thunder rolled overhead. Pickles retreated inside and perched on the back of the couch. Every so often he glanced toward the door, expecting Taric to appear dripping wet and complaining about the weather.

Instead, the storm came and went. Then another hour passed, and another. Pickles was beginning to consider whether he should be concerned just when he heard footsteps on the stairs below. The apartment door opened moments later and Taric staggered inside looking like someone who had recently made several poor decisions in rapid succession. His hair was singed, his shirt was missing one sleeve, one side of his face was covered in soot, and most concerning of all, he was carrying only half of his surfboard.

Pickles stared. Taric stared back. For several seconds neither moved.

Then Taric pointed a finger at the bird. "I can explain." That was never a good sign.

Taric dropped what remained of the surfboard against the wall and immediately collapsed into a chair. The moment he sat down there was a loud crack and every feather on Pickles' body puffed outward. A visible spark jumped between Taric and the chair. Both of them looked at the chair, then they looked at each other. "Still a little charged up," Taric murmured.

Pickles watched cautiously as Taric carefully stood and attempted to remove his shirt. The fabric snagged halfway over his head before a shower of tiny sparks erupted from it. The shirt promptly caught fire. Taric yelped, Pickles laughed, and the shirt was eventually thrown into the sink. After several moments of frantic splashing and creative swearing, Taric managed to extinguish it. He stood there shirtless, damp, and visibly exhausted while Pickles continued to laugh from atop the couch.

"You're not helping."

Pickles laughed harder.

Once the immediate crisis had passed, Taric prepared a cup of tea, or at least he tried to. The kettle didn't survive the experience. The moment he touched it, a sharp crack echoed through the apartment and every light flickered. The kettle gave up entirely. Taric stared at it and sighed "Well that’s unfortunate." Pickles considered it hilarious as he stamped his feet and did a little dance to show his amusement.

Eventually Taric sat on the floor with an ice pack pressed against his shoulder and began recounting what had happened. According to him, the lightning strike itself had gone perfectly. In fact, he claimed it was one of the cleanest absorptions he had ever managed. The problems began afterward. Apparently he had taken in significantly more energy than usual. At first he hadn't noticed anything wrong, until he touched a palm tree, which then proceeded to explode. Not completely, just enough to make him realize something had gone horribly wrong.

After that, matters deteriorated rapidly.

His communication device stopped working the moment he picked it up. His surfboard developed a smoking crack down the middle after he grabbed it with both hands. When he attempted to sit on a beach chair and think through the problem, the chair instantly burst apart beneath him.

Pickles nearly fell off the couch laughing.

Taric didn't seem to appreciate this. "I could have died."

Pickles made a noise that sounded suspiciously like disbelief.

"Okay, probably not."

Much better.

The rest of the trip home had apparently involved walking several miles while avoiding physical contact with basically everything. Fences sparked when he passed them, metal signs rattled, one unfortunate crab had pinched his foot and immediately reconsidered all of its life choices. By the time he reached Booty Bay, Taric had succeeded in destroying a chair, a communication device, part of a surfboard, two palm trees, half a fence, and possibly a shrub. He wasn't entirely sure about the shrub.

The evening settled into a comfortable silence after the shock wore off. Taric eventually managed to find a blanket that didn't spark when he touched it and wrapped himself up before sinking into the couch. He looked thoroughly exhausted, which was understandable given he had spent the afternoon being struck by lightning and then terrorizing local vegetation.

Pickles fluttered down and landed beside him. For a while they simply sat there, then Taric sighed. "At least it wasn't as bad as last time." Pickles tilted his head, and Taric thought for a moment. "You know what? Don't respond to that."

Pickles immediately puffed up and, in a perfect imitation of Taric's voice, declared: "I can explain." Taric groaned and buried his face in the blanket. Pickles considered the day a complete success. After all, his human had come home alive, and more importantly, had done something incredibly stupid. Both were traditions worth preserving.