possible FC for lor’themar. hmm. thoughts?
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possible FC for lor’themar. hmm. thoughts?
OKAY SO LISTEN UP
this blog is undergoing a major overhaul during the next few days.
all threads will be dropped.
a NEW starter call will be posted. for PRE-EXISTING relationships.
shitposting will be, sadly, taken down to a minimum.
plots for BATTLE FOR AZEROTH will be started.
i will be taking mains for the warcraft fandom and will start roleplaying on Lor’themar as my secondary main, getting drafts and replies out on a bi-nightly basis.
i will start taking my threads from hero toons. yes, that means your characters.
halduron is a real bro
@halduron-brightwang
I’m trying so hard to draw
AETHAS.
The skepticism of his peers, if they’d considered him as much at the time, is etched upon Aethas’ mind. In the long run, it turned out to be one of his motivating forces, proof that even a city as ancient and gilded as Silvermoon had much to learn and that its people needed time to heal and an opportunity to expand their horizons. Was it surprise or suspicion for his ambitious rise through the Kirin Tor? A healthy portion of both if Aethas’ understanding of their collective outlook is anything to go by.
Yet the Regent Lord speaks with a wisdom that belies his years of service, first with a bow in hand, a sword on his hip, the wilds of Quel’Thalas his domain and now the authority of an empty crown and the weight of a people’s future resting upon him. It is not a task Aethas envies in particular, but under the circumstances, he will never claim that Lor’themar’s actions are anything short of admirable.
The Regent Lord is, simply put, the best of the Sin’dorei. In the hectic mess brought about by Hellscream, Aethas spoke the truth then. Lor’themar made a fine example of a potential Warchief
“ I’ll grant you that, Regent Lord. But there is plenty use in taking steps to avoid repeating those mistakes. I think we can agree on that. ”
HAD HE HEARD such thoughts, he might’ve laughed. he was, in his own mind, granted the honour to serve his people as a leader. though a position he never truly wanted, it was what he had been saddled with. thus, he would proudly serve the Sin’dorei as regent lord of quel’thalas for as long as he was able. never again would a KING sit upon the throne of silvermoon. there would be no man so deserving. no anasterian to take his place, lest dath’remar should rise from his very grave.
❛ spoken like a true tactician, ❜ he remarks, reaching up to rub at the tuft of hair sitting just beneath his lower lip. aethas had always proven himself again and again to be an UNSTOPPABLE FORCE upon the battlefield, even when taken into enemy custody. part of him wonders if he would’ve been truly ready to die had they not rescued him in time. if that blood boiled so STRONGLY within those blood-elven veins that he would make that sacrifice. yet, through his actions, lor’themar believed he would.
❛ i hear you’ve begun good work within the tirisfal council. ❜
*BUSTS DOWN THE DOOR* god i love lor’themar theron
i would die for grand magister rommath
i’m not an early bird or a night owl… i’m some form of permanently exhausted pigeon.
azir (via incorrectlolquotes)
“I will do whatever it takes to protect Quel'Thalas and its people. Even if it means being used.”
BOY-KING.
it was through no fault of the elven regent that the alliance and their king had been pushed to the brink of their collective TOLERANCE. quartering members of the horde whom anduin sought, however, was enough to draw them to quel'thalas. the revitalized ban'dinoriel would have proven an effective BARRICADE were it not for the fact that the sunwell - once the quel'dorei’s greatest fount of power - was now INFUSED with the light; and as such, so too were the gate’s magical defenses. it took a considerable deal of effort, but anduin’s holy prowess enabled him to NULLIFY the barrier in its entirety.
before the entrance to sin'dorei lands, he stood; BLEEDING patience and concern alike. from features twisted and DEFORMED into an uncharacteristic scowl, anduin’s demand emerged, “in the name of the alliance - in the name of the light - i COMMAND that you stand down. my aim is not to butcher a people who have already seen more than their fair share of bloodshed, but i will have no other choice if you do not HEED me now.” his army stood at the ready. soldiers, mages, archers and priests were all prepared to engage their foes, and several gunships loomed in the distance beyond them. anduin did not come all this way just to FORGO his mission.
THE CHILDREN OF THE BLOOD would sacrifice no expense to defend the last stronghold of Horde-controlled territory in the eastern kingdoms. to protect the the golden fields and spring-time meadows that their people, their children and their dreams had grown upon. this was QUEL’THALAS, a land that was sowed and reaped by the nimble and clever hands of dath’remar, who had given to them the extraordinary waters of the sunwell.
but the elves were not alone. elf and troll, tauren and forsaken stood in the bone-speckled lands of southern quel’thalas where the ground was still soaked in the blood of his people. Sin’dorei boots crunched along forgotten femurs and half-broken clavicles that had been left behind by fallen paladins, healers and frightened children alike. a plague that had been brought unto them by a HUMAN PRINCE once not so unlike the wrynn that stood at their gates.
❛ Shindu fallah na! Anar’alah belore, talah shar falanore! ❜ He cried to his people, urging their Blood Knight Calvary to man the defensive line between the healthier trees of the Eversong Wood from the blackened forest beyond.
their mage towers had been erected with haste, arbolests armed to the teeth whilst their paladins and farstriders manned the first line of defense. in the hazy background of the orange-tinted skyline, one could make out a few orcish airships that circled the eversong forest. to the north, their navy was prepped with battle mage and arcane canon alike to defend the Isle of Quel’danas, Sunsail Anchorage and Silvermoon’s port.
if this prince truly thought that the great city of the elves would so easily fall, then he was mistaken. Finally, to punctuate his wordless response to the boy-king standing at their gates, a sudden and loud ‘THWAM’ echoed across the trees, bending some of the smaller saplings to their limit. The many gates of Silvermoon City had shut.
PROUDMOORE.
she is almost impressed with how delicate the common tongue might sound in his tone. it’s not a terribly foreign thing to hear from a “child of the blood”, as is their current choice nomenclature. a powerful name, no doubt, one she knows they carry full well and without doubt. her wit is almost as cynical as the regent lord might be, but for all their posturing, at least they can afford to. jaina only hums in response, a curt nod, before sliding out of her chair to show as much respect as she can muster (which is hopefully more than they anticipate.).
❛ and the same to you, regent lord. i hope your people are doing just as well. ❜ a well-wish that may quickly turn sour given their intertwined past. she would not be surprised to hear the backlash after that one. a few unfortunate (disgraceful and abominable) misfires or accusations and suddenly dalaran is practically in flames. after the sin’dorei find their way into their respective seats, she slides back into her own in the same manner as she had risen from it.
❛ a lot of preening that gets your men back into your command and your people back into my city, i presume. ❜
IT IS WELL-KNOWN that one must suffer a grudging respect for one’s enemy. for one’s cunning and resilience in the fact of terror and death. but the blood-elves were known for their suffering, for their hardship. what they should have been known for however, theron believed, was their unwavering FEROCITY. had it not been for lord zhu’s wisdom at the gates of the thunder king’s palace, blood would have been spilt that day. but it was he, the regent lord of quel-thalas, that lowered his blade first.
he knew that garrosh would have to fall long before proudmoore. and in the moment that he SPOKE those words, he could’ve sworn he saw her features soften.
he presumed her greeting and well-wishing was just as empty and hollow as his own. the one-eyed man is seated the way a tiger remains CAGED, watching and waiting for any opening to strike out at.
❛ that would be correct. ❜ he replies, folding his hands neatly on the table’s surface. they are without their gauntlets, smooth and yet scratched with long nails that seem hard as marble. ❛ despite our justifiable hesitation, we are prepared to aid the kirin tor again... in order to ward off the imminent threat of the burning legion. ❜
what a wild fucking party.
AETHAS SUNREAVER.
To hear such an admission after all his work, all his energy spent and used up, brings with it a sense of hollow regret. There will never come a time when Aethas will feel at ease with the chaos to rain down around his head, to take so much with it. But time and the passage of it lead him to reconcile that even if he could, he would not undo the work he began. The elves of Silvermoon past and present deserve a place on the world’s stage, deserve valuable allies and resources. That would always be a cause worth spilling his own blood for.
There is a pause too stagnant to be strictly thoughtful in nature, knowing well what it means for the Regent Lord to speak of this at all. Never one for grand gestures and veiled diplomacy, the sentiment must be simply because Lor’themar believes it to be so. No more, no less.
“ If not wisdom, then someone who understands his mistakes. It was my hope that my actions would speak for themselves some day. Now that they have, I can’t help but wonder over the cost of it all. ”
EVER THOUGHTFUL, THE regent lord would sweep his gaze back to the fire magus, watching his body language for any sign that his hooded face could simply not give. But Lor’themar had personally seen the youthful man beneath it. It was, perhaps, one of the reasons why they’d considered him a danger. A genius with his craft, but eccentric and far too eager to wield it in their name.
The COST of it all. spoken like a true soldier indeed. no longer a pretentious fool rushing off to save the world. but lor’themar couldn’t fault him even if he still was. they all had been like that once, and now that such a glimmer of irresponsibility was gone? he was almost prepared to mourn it the way one mourns the loss of innocence from a child.
but it was time he stopped treating aethas as one.
his hand falls to rest on the arm of his seat, turning to look at the red-head more fully now. there is something akin to fondness in his eye, just beyond the white-rim around his iris and the verdant glow of his sclera. ❛ you should not dwell over what could have been. the world is full of enough ‘what ifs’ already. doing so of your own volition is... damn-well enough to drive a man mad. ❜
BE player-base: So what about the Blood Elves in this new XPAC?!
Blizzard: Palms are sweaty. Knees weak, arms are heavy. Vomit on my sweater already, Lor’themar forgetti.
@solreave from here.
A HALF-SCOFF, half-laugh whistles out from his nostrils, the regent lord’s eye flicking off to the side. it always came back to that, didn’t it? he, the enigmatic and strong public figure that was meant to lead their people into a new age of power and glory. that was what the arcane sentries were spewing every hour, wasn’t it?
but aethas was young. so young in fact that lor’themar had been HESITANT about his involvement in dalaran to begin with. but time and time again, this ‘young’ man had proven himself loyal and undeniably useful.
❛ you are beginning to sound even wiser than our elder people, ❜ he says finally, ❛ it is possible that we had misjudged you. ❜
for shinyforce