Vixieevox

[fence-macabre]

Its come to our attention that there’s been discussion about proshipping in the roleplay community. The term means “all ships are valid,” and while that definition may seem innocent, it’s a term used for pedophiles or predators to hide behind.

We want to take a moment to state that we do NOT support the shipping of child characters or child-presenting characters with adults, child pornography, or child fetishization in any form regardless of the medium, be it fictional, drawn, written, or anything similar.

Defending people’s right to depict erotica of children ignores the harm which victims and survivors must endure when they come across such depictions. In addition, these depictions enable predators and allow predators to use them to groom children.

If you disagree with our stance, you are not welcome in any of our spaces. Unfollow us, and know you are unwelcome at our events.

[vixieevox]

How to Date Your Illidari

Taly had been with her girlfriend for two months without ever going on a date. The thought struck her one day as she and Loh’za were cleaning their hut on the outskirts of Clearwater village.

Every day, during the past two months, had been wonderful. She watched Loh’za transform into a stronger woman who could stand on her own feet. She became a woman who could slow down and appreciate a moment without succumbing to the urge to go out and act. The pair had shaped each other to be more like the other, as if their complete lives were making additions for the other in their hearts and souls.

As Taly squatted down to lower a crate of Loh’za’s inks and dyes, she thought back to what they had done over the past two months. Great sex, hard training, gathering herbs, fun and enjoyable for certain, but not what her elven upbringing would have called ‘a date’.

She frowned. Though it rarely showed on her face with her constant laughing, swearing, and smiling, Taly wasn’t as resolute a woman as she projected to others. She had her doubts, fears, and sorrows, and she wondered if she was really giving Loh’za the attention and care she deserved.

Her heart ached at the thought. She bit her lip and turned to face her darkspear lover.

“Hey Loh, I was wondering…”

She paused mid-sentence when she noticed the expression on her lover’s face. Her lips were curled into a frown that looked slightly threatening with her tusks poking out. Her sea-green eyes looked moist as if something caused her heart some pain and hurt. Her body language felt small, shrunken as it was with her shoulders slooped and arms raised as if in self-defense.

“Loh”, Taly said, “What’s wrong?”

Loh’za hummed and darted her eyes to the side of the tent. Taly followed the gaze. Both women looked at the sleeping bags that served as their bed, which was once neatly arranged and clean, though knowing how often they made love, it wouldn’t remain so for long.

Taly smiled. “Come on, we’ll make a mess when we clean up. Sooner we fix everything up the sooner we can fu—”

Loh’za giggled and raised up a palm. Taly clamped her lips down and stared into her taller lover’s eyes.

“No, dat’s not wat’s on my mind, silly chil’” Loh’za said. “Jes, got te tinkin’ dat we never went out before. You and I doin’ tings dat oter couples do.”

Taly stared at Loh’za. Her lips curled into a dopey grin before she rolled her head back and laughed. Loh’za sucked in her teeth and stamped her foot.

“I’m serious!” Loh’za said, “It’s been two months and…”

Taly leaned into her lover. She rubbed her Illidari horns against her lover’s chest. The once rough lengths were sanded smooth so they wouldn’t cut up her lover whenever she kissed her woman’s softer belly. The Illidari wrapped her arms around Loh’za’s waist and squeezed her close.

“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing because I was thinking the same thing.” Taly said.

“Ya were?”

“Ye. I was just about to ask you if it bothered you.”

Loh’za gasped then giggled. “I was too!”

Loh’za tiptoed her fingers up Taly’s side, then threw her arms over the shorter woman’s shoulders. The arms crossed behind Taly’s neck as she leaned forward and pulled her into a more intimate embrace against her chest.

“So…” Taly said, “does it bother you?”

Loh’za blinked. “Wat?”

“You know, does it bother you that we don’t go out erm…dancing or drinking or…other things that couples do?”

Loh’za hummed. “Ya mean te tings oter couples do? I dunno. Sometimes I wonder if I am interestin’ enough for ya. Ya live dis dangerous life, flyin’ around killin’ demon tings and until recently, I been ‘idin’ wit te Ashen Tusks…jes writin’ But now…”

Loh’za paused and turned her head towards the sleeping bags.

Taly wanted to speak and urge Loh’za to continue. But she knew her lover well enough to not do that.

Women like Loh’za tended to work through their feelings through spoken exposition. It was, as much a way of figuring out what was important enough to go to the page as it was a way to lay her heart bare for examination. Loh’za called it the mark of a writer…though both women knew it was just one of the troll’s strangely alluring quirks.

Finally, Loh’za looked into her lover’s eyes.

“No, I don’t miss goin’ out on borin’ normal dates. Can ya imagine bein’ in a suit or a dress? Excuse me miss, one tea please.”

Loh’za did her best stiff upper lip as she raised one of her fingers in a pinky-up pose. She stood up straight and curled a wrist onto her hip and made an absolutely awful snooty guffaw sound.

Taly couldn’t hold back the laughter any longer. She stepped away from Loh’za and wrapped her arms around her sides giggling and laughing until it hurt. Loh’za joined her in chuckling as both women filled the dead air with their jubilance and mirth.

Neither woman knew how long it was before the giggles stopped. All they knew was looking across the hut at one another, exhaling and slapping a palm against their hips.

“I love you, Loh” “I love ya, Taly”

Both women smiled.

“Dat said,” Loh’za said, “I do have an idea on a date.”

Taly blinked then raised her eyebrows in confusion.

“But didn’t we just…you know? Say we didn’t need to do dates?”

Loh’za smiled and raised a finger up to the collar around her neck. The scrap of cloth was not an expensive collar by any means, but since it was once Taly’s blindfold, it meant more to the woman than any of her other possessions. Touching it was also a reminder to Taly, that Loh’za was well and truly her woman and no one else’s.

“Trust me, silly chil’” Loh’za said, “I have an idea.”

~~~

Later that evening, Loh’za and Taly found themselves atop one of the highest peaks in the Barrens. In the distance, down below, they could see the outlines of Clearwater Village as large cooking fires were burned while the orcs and taurens feasted on their evening meals. Both women opted to avoid the communal meal since they had another idea in mind.

Taly smiled at her lover and turned her back to Loh’za.

“Are you ready, Loh?”

Loh’za slapped her girlfriend’s ass and giggled.

“’Urry up before I second guess myself!”

Taly gave Loh’za a sharp look then a smirk. “I’ll pay you back for that swat when we get to bed tonight.”

“Maybe, but ya won’t right now and dat’s wat matters.”

Taly turned back towards the horizon then focused her inner magic outward. Her body grew a few feet in height, her muscles broadened impressively outward. Great wings billowed out that almost blocked the moon’s light from Loh’za’s view. Her feet became cloven like hooves.

Loh’za clambered up on her lover’s back wrapping her own arms around Taly’s broader neck.

“Now fly,” Loh’za said. “Cause I got ya collared dis time!”

Taly laughed as she took a running leap from the mountain and felt the wind catch beneath her winds. The couple soared through the air towards a future that they couldn’t see in the darkness, but was uniquely theirs alone.

[vixieevox]

Twitterfic - The Prince of Peace

The smoke that plumed from the center of the village came from the corpse of a red dragon wyrmling.

The wyrmling couldn’t have been more than 20 years of age, barely an infant in dragon terms. Yet there it was, pinned down by carpentry spikes on its back, while several cuts peeled open the creature, likely for loot and reagents. The source of the flame was inside that opened cavity, which told the good prince that the perpetrators intended to burn away the evidence.

Rook Kazina’s skin crawled at the sight.

“I know that look, my prince.”

Rook lowered the telescope and nodded. “I’m not happy, general. It’s one thing to slay or push back a wyrmling that’s burning down your home…”

“…but another to desecrate the body and set the remains ablaze. And at the edge of your kingdom no less.” Said the general.

“The scouts reported banditry and lawbreaking from this village. Thank all that is good that I talked you into investigating this immediately.” Rook said.

The general nodded. “Your instincts were correct on this one. But how do we deal with this? We could assault the village with a score of men and have the villagers in irons by tomorrow night…”

“…and destroy what remains of the village?” Rook shook his head. “…I don’t think that will be necessary.”

“But you can’t just let them go!” The general said.

Rook turned towards the general. His eyes were strong as steel.

“I never said they’d be let go. They broke the law and attempted to hide it. But I noticed something else about the village.”

“What’s that?” The general said.

“…only two or three people ever looked at the central fire, and only those with bows remained on the walls.” Rook said.

The general blinked and considered the point. Then he opened his mouth and exhaled a loud ahhhh sound.

“Exactly,” Rook said “, the whole village isn’t to blame.” He looked towards the sky and pointed to the distant horizon. “I may have a way that we can avoid the lookouts and get into the large building near the pyre.”

The general’s brow raised, “…and how do you plan to do that?”

~~~

A few hours passed before Rook and his general made their move. The clouds had shifted into the late afternoon casting much of the village in an enveloping shadow. Cook fires, and the scent of seared pork wafted in the breeze, while guards were replaced on the wall.

Rook and the general had used the darker time of day to mask their approach as they crept their way towards a south facing wall. Rook took point, stepping softly through the murky ground while his general followed with less a less graceful gait.

Both men had a hand on their sword’s grips, ready to unsheathe and fight if the gambit had been discovered.

“My prince…” the general said.

Rook glanced at him and nodded.

“Why are we skulking like rogues, again?” he said.

“Because”, Rook said as he reached the southern wall, “this side was the lightest defended. If I’m right about someone manipulating the villagers, then that makes this the path that causes the least harm to good folk.”

The general sighed. He still would have preferred a show of force at the gate to scare the bandits away, if his prince was correct. But the Prince of Peace had a way of puzzling through difficult situations and coming out on top. It was an admirable quality to the old guard, who had long ago lost the optimism that seemed to drive every decision Rook made.

“Very well my prince,” the general said as he joined Rook at the wall. “…then let’s get over this wall and see who murdered that wyrmling.”

Rook nodded and folded his hands together offering the heavier man a boost. The general used the boost to scale the wall, then turned to offer a hand. Rook took the general’s hand and felt himself pulled up and over the wall in a single jerk.

Both men hopped off the wall and landed in the courtyard near the large building in the center of the village. Rook pointed to a nearby hedge and both men raced to crouch behind it, moments before passing guards wandered through the courtyard on their way to another labor or duty.

As the men moved, Rook searched the men’s garb for clues to who they were. His eyes narrowed when he noticed pins that both guards wore on their lapels. The silver pins depicted wolf fangs facing east.

“Steelfangs…” Rook murmured.

“You can’t be serious!” The general said.

Rook nodded. “I saw the pins. These men are bandits, and they have infiltrated our lands and will condemn our people if they cannot be stopped.”

“But we will stop them, won’t we my Prince.”

Rook smiled at his general and made his way towards the village mayor’s house where he was certain the bandit leader would be waiting.

~~~

It didn’t take long for Rook and the general to find an open door to let themselves inside. The bandits were clearly more concerned with an invading force while they plundered the resources of the village. Though such stealth rankled the general, it soon became clear that Rook’s strategy was correct.

They had found themselves inside of the main kitchens of the building. Two other doors led out from the room, presumably into a dining area and a cellar. The room had clear signs of heavy use, but gone were the cauldrons and spices that marked most country kitchens. Instead, it was emptied out days ago and was now used for cages. Inside each cage were the strongest farmers from the village, men and women with burly builds and strong arms that could raise tools to defend their home.

When the farmers saw Rook and the General and noticed the kingdom’s livery over their armor, one of them almost squealed in delight. Rook raised a finger to his lips to hush the villager.

The general moved to open one of the cages. Rook turned towards another.

“No noise”, Rook said, “We’re going to get you out.”

“Thank you, my prince.” Said one of the villagers. “I knew you’d get us out and…LOOK OUT!”

Rook jumped to his feet and drew his blade and snarled at what he saw.

A figure stood over the general’s body, with a bloody knife in his hand. The general gagged as he held his hands over a bloody wound on his chest, trying to hang out as much as he could from the wound.

The figure stepped into the light, exposing a face filled with cruelty and wickedness. A scar ran down from his left eye to his chin, and upon his lapel was a silver pin marking him as one of the bandits.

“Awww, good prince Rook,” the figure said “, if you wanted to come you should have knocked on the front door. I wouldn’t have killed him thinking him an intruder.”

Rook glared. “You must be the bandit leader. Only a coward would attack a man from behind!”

“Oh?” the leader said, “am I a coward? Then what do you call creeping in in whatever way you managed?”

Rook pointed at the man with his sword. “Don’t equate me to your deeds! You would hide behind your men and the villagers, forcing us to evade or harm innocents while you got away. I know your kind, brigand, and this ends here.”

The leader smirked. “Then show me your justice, good prince, Rook!”

Rook leapt upon the man with a vertical slice. The brigand dodged out of the way intent on stabbing the prince in his side. But the thrust was met with a darted grasp as Rook seized the brigand’s wrist. He jerked the brigand to the side tossing him to the floor and stripping him of his dagger.

The brigand scrambled back to his feet with only a blade remaining in his hand. Rook was already atop of him slashing and thrusting, forcing the brigand to the defensive. The villagers in the kitchen watched with rapt attention as they circled the room, steel clashing and clanging with every attack.

Then, Rook saw his opening.

Just as the Bandit turned his head to call for aid, Rook thrust and slew the bandit leader through his neck.

As the bandit leader gurgled his last breath, the good prince turned towards the general.

“General!” he said “Please tell me the wounds aren’t too great.”

The General clutched his wound, and leaned heavily against the wall. He nodded at Rook. “I’m fine, my prince. But the sooner we see a healer the better.”

Rook smiled then seized the cage keys from the bandit leader.

“We’ll get you to a healer as soon as we can. Let’s liberate the village.

~~~

With the leader’s defeat and the rescue of the village’s strongest inhabitants, it didn’t take long to reclaim the village. As Rook thought, the bandits were a cowardly lot and had been using the captured villagers as collateral to force the villagers to obey. But with their freedom, the villagers found their hearts once more. With Rook in the lead, the villagers flushed out the bandits and found peace once more.

[vixieevox]

Beauty is Surrounded

The Lividfury gardens, surrounded on all sides by Tetalor’s offices and a s were always a sight to behold.

Rare plants from across Quel’thalas bloomed in several carefully tended plots of soil. Magic muted the smell of dirt and enhanced the perfume of wild flowers. Each side of the garden was guarded by a walls of magically wrought gold, red, and white that resembled the archways famous in Silvermoon. The sun shined down through intricately stained glass. It was the perfect place to comfort a woman, who hoped that today would be a rare good day.

Alalena Lividfury sighed as she pushed her somber thoughts away. She couldn’t bear the thought of her frowns and sighs ruining the lovely day for her son. The thought snapped her attention from her daydreams to the small elf that played with blocks of sparkling gems in the center of the garden.

The boy, when compared to other two year olds, was small for his age. But he had a smile that shined brighter than the sun and made his mother’s heart melt each time she saw it. His hair was tied up in a pony tail that ran just past his shoulders, so as not to ruin the outfit that was ordered for him. He looked much like the perfect gentlemen, so unlike his father.

“Winris,” Alalena called, “…are you having fun?”

Winris turned to her and smiled wide. He bobbed his head before returning to whatever game his mind had conjured.

A strange thought came to Alalena’s mind then. Her son was smaller than most children, that much was certain. But she couldn’t help feel that he was growing too fast. It felt like only the other day that he was small enough to fit tucked into a single arm as she traveled the gardens of their family home.

She thought about her husband and wondered if he had noticed such…then felt her lips curl downward into a doubting frown.

The slam of a door in the southern room snapped the elven mother out of her dubious thoughts. She gasped and placed a palm over her heart and felt it beat that much faster. She breathed in and out twice before thoughts of her son forced her to regain her composure.

She looked at Winris.

The young boy was stiff as a board with his hands clenched tight and held against his body. The young elf’s eyes were staring at the door that led from the garden to the southern office. His shoulders jerked up and down from rapid fire breaths. Alalena could have sworn that she saw a single tear running down her son’s cheek.

The elven mother crawled across the garden and rubbed the young child’s back. She hummed a nursery rhyme and stared into the young boy’s eyes. Soon, the trembles receded, tension waned, and her son’s face no longer flushed with embarrassment and fear.

“That’s it Winris. There’s no danger here. Father likely has business to handle and forgets that we are here.” Alalena said.

It was a gentle lie.

Winris opened his mouth to speak. He likely likely had a question or concern that he wanted to share with Alalena, but a sudden slam choked off his words before they left his throat.

“I HAVE GIVEN YOU SO MUCH, MIRTIS. NOW YOU ASK FOR MORE?”

Tetalor’s voice bellowed with the force of demons. Each sentence was punctuated by a metallic bang as he slammed his gauntleted fist on some surface of the room. Alalena didn’t know this, Mirtis, but she felt bad for the guest in having to deal with her husband’s mood.

“Mommy?” said Winris.

Alalena shook her head. “It will be alright. Go to your room and I’ll read you a story after I check on your father.”

Winris opened his mouth to speak. Another bang from within the southern room cut him off and made him jump to his feet. Alalena had barely the time to shoo him away before the young child dashed into another room, where a maid had collected him to take to safety.

Alalena sighed. She was alone again.

She pondered whether to wait it out and retreat to her son’s side or to address her husband. She stood to her feet and looked through the windows on the southern wall.

She realized too late that that was a mistake.

Tetalor was having a discussion with two farstriders, one man and one woman. The rangers were standing in front of her husband’s desk stock still as they dealt with the noble’s fury. The woman had noticed Lena and turned towards her.

It was the briefest nod of her head, but one that her husband noticed. He turned his head and glared as his eyes locked with Alalena’s. He murmured words to his guests and held out a finger. He rose from his seat and approached the door that led to the garden.

Alalena looked to the farstriders who stared back in silence. They must have assumed that Tetalor’s shift to a more mild-manner was a good thing and that she had made negotiations easier for them.

The lord of House Lividfury entered the garden and marched towards his wife with a singular purpose. He ignored the flowers crushed beneath his hefty boots and the crunch when he destroyed Winris’ toy block. Alalena’s chest rose with labored breath that grew sharper and more terse when he reached her.

“Dear wife,” he said, “What did I tell you about being anywhere in sight when I have business to manage?”

Alalena froze. “But my lord, you never said that there was a meeting for the day.”

Tetalor frowned and took one of Lena’s wrists in his gauntleted hand. He squeezed his fingers tight, roughing up the skin between his metallic digits.

“Is that so? As I am the lord and cannot be wrong, that means that the wait staff failed to alert you in time. Shall I punish them instead for their mistake?”

Alalena wanted to sneer and glare. But she knew her husband’s wrath would be harsh, cruel, and take up most the evening. Worst of all, their marriage was politically driven and her family depended on the resources that House Lividfury made available to them, especially in the wake of the Troll Wars. This was her lot in life. To suffer prettily so that her family could excel.

Someone had to take the blame for what she was certain was Tetalor’s mistake…and it would have to be her.

“No, my lord, I recall you spoke about it over Breakfast. The fault is mine and I will accept my punishment.”

Tetalor grinned. “Excellent. Tend to your duties then wait for me in the dungeon. I suspect I’ll be given too much to the forest elves…” he said with venom, “…and I’ll need to feel better somehow.”

Alalena curtsied.

“Of course, my lord. I will tell our son that I will not be with him for dinner.” She said.

“You mean your son…” Tetalor said, “He’s soft and meek like his mother. But when he gets older, the trainers will beat that out of him so he can be a proper heir.”

Alalena didn’t comment. But in her heart of hearts she swore that she would never allow Winris to become Tetalor.

[irielle-firine]

LFC - Irielle Firine

BASICS—

Name: Irielle Firine

Age: 1, 800

Race: Ren’dorei

Faction: Faction neutral

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Lesbian

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE—

Hair: Medium lenght silver-grey hair is usually worn in a ponytail hanging over her shoulder.

Eyes: Glowing, silver-blue.

Height: 5”6 (1.52m)

Build: Limber, taut.

Distinguishing Marks: A horizontal scar beneath her left eye. Faint spider web-like scars at her neck.

Clothing: Dressed all in black. Tight fitting high-necked crop-top, loose fitting pants which are tucked into her boots. Her handswraps extend from her knuckles to her forearms, and she wears a long overcoat which ends just below her knees.

Common Accessories: Her weapons; Eagletalon spear, miniature crossbow holstered on her right thigh, and six custom made daggers (wrists, lower back, tops of boots). She carries one black pouch which wraps around her waist and clips around her left thigh.

ABOUT—

PERSONAL—

Profession: Smuggler and tracker. Jack of all trades. Has worked as a wilderness guide and a bodyguard. Has been known to sing and play the fiddle. Most recently seen working as a bartender.

Languages: Thalassian, Orcish, Common. Smattering of Goblin and Darnassian, mostly curses. 

Residence: Rustberg Village, Tol Barad. 

Birthplace: Eversong Woods. 

Fears: Small spaces, confinement, being alone (sleeping alone), forests, losing herself, being used/manipulated/a pawn (again), and Worgen warlocks.

RELATIONSHIPS—

Family: Deceased

Friends: Many! Always looking for more.

Significant Others: She isn’t in a place to commit to anything serious right now, and if she got wind of such would probably up and disappear to another continent. That said, she is involved with both Eoselle Gloamtracer @hinahinagray and @veleanthe.

TRAITS—

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

HABITS—

Smoking Habit: Rarely, socially when so.  

Drugs: Sometimes.

Alcohol: Daily, carries a flask at all times.

CHARACTER HOOKS—

* Smuggler & Tracker: Have you needed a job doing? Particular item you couldn’t get ahold of, or seen to be inquiring about, yourself? Needed goods moved quietly? Needed someone, or something, tracked down? What about leaving the city unnoticed and starting fresh somewhere new? You may have hired Irielle for any of these jobs, or be looking for her to do one -she’s really open about the generalities of what she does.

* Security: While she has done security work for nobles hosting private events, Irielle prefers working one on one with her clients. She will stick to you like glue, and if you’re worried about being followed, have estranged family members who want you dead, or just generally believe someone’s out to get you, Iri’s your girl.

* Bar Hopper: Working odd jobs here and there, Iri lived out of taverns and inns across Azeroth for quite some time. Her preference has been the Eastern Kingdoms, and you might know her from also spending a fair bit of time in bars, having bet against her in a drinking or knife throwing competition, or from being one of her many, many bedfellows (not necessarily of a sexual nature, she genuinely just sleeps better when sharing a bed).

* Heart of the Raven: She can be found working at the Raven every Monday night, and intends to make the back bar at the inn her home. When not out doing contract jobs, she can be found here as well. Regular patrons, guests who have stayed at the inn, or even one-time visitors on who she made an impression are all viable connections!

* Silvermoon’s Elite: Iri’s never been one of them, but she worked for a selection of noble families many years ago.

* Musician - Fiddle: Irielle can play the fiddle, and has been known to sing on occasion. Maybe you saw her playing at a bar one night, or were around a campfire or at a festival where she played. It’s a hobby for her, and not something she does professionally.

OUT OF CHARACTER THINGS AND CONTACT INFORMATION—

I run EST, so three hours ahead of server. Main blog is ms-winford, and Iri’s is irielle-firine. Pre-established connections are fine, hmu so we can figure out the details! In-game and Tumblr are the best places for RP, with Tumblr being where I tend to answer most quickly; send asks/starters her way to get something started, don’t be shy! Contact me here, or in-game at ‘Ireille’ on Wyrmrest Accord. She works at @heartoftheravenwra (Rustberg Village, Tol Barad) every Monday from 7-9pm server if you want to drop by!

Art: haimeart, dovahcaine & suramarelf have all done a beautiful job portraying her!

[vixieevox]

I love characters like this. She’s just really cool!

[fence-macabre]

Deathday - April 11

As the frost melts away, and green sprigs of new life begin to break through the icy ground, we welcome in a time of renewal, hope, and change. There’s a bony rap of knuckles at your door, and an invitation written with care slid into the mailslot, as Fence Macabre invites all to celebrate their very first Deathday anniversary.

Join us for a night of sharing stories and tales of endings and new beginnings!

Date: Saturday, April 11th 2020

Time: 3pm-7pm (WrA/PST) | 5PM-9PM (MG/CST)

Location: Silverpine Forest, coords (50, 85) (map above!)

Server: Wyrmrest Accord (all servers welcome!)

Faction: Neutral (bring elixirs!)

Bring a Dish!

Bring some food for the potluck, something your character has a precious memory related to, or just really loves and wants to share. Potluck contributions will be taken in via Google Forms day-of and compiled into an easy-to-access menu when the buffet opens.

Tell a Story!

Have a story following these themes to share? [Submit prior using this form here!] to tell an enraptured audience around a bonfire (ten minutes maximum timed).  Please send us your submissions for stories by April 9th, and we hope to see you there!

Enter the Raffle!

Enter at the event for a chance at a fabulous prize such as:

World of Warcraft: Series 6: Goblin Tinker: Gibzz Sparklighter Action Figure

Two-Tone Waistup Art by@hinahinagray​

Blossoming Ancient Companion Pet

Companion Pets: Crimson Lasher [1], Snaplasher [5]

We here at the Fence Macabre couldn’t do what we do without you, the role-playing community. And so we aim to celebrate our first year as a part of the RPC and to thank you for your stories, kindness, patronage, and enthusiasm. 

This Deathday is as much yours as it is ours: an event curated for members of our vibrant community (you!) to share stories of turning over a new leaf, great revelation, or perhaps yes even literal death and rebirth. Bring us your stories of feeling lost, outcast, and abandoned, to becoming new, different, and wonderful to behold!

Event Flyer Art by @hinahinagray​

[Join Fence Macabre’s Event Discord by Clicking HERE!]

[vixieevox]

Twitterfic - Juno

Juno had to admit; being caught in a burning workshop was worse than her pounding headache.

She hurt and wanted to leave, but she couldn’t in good faith without knowing that her host was safe and sound.

“Zeksix”, the draenei said, “Are you alright?”

No Answer

She crouched down to get beneath the black choking smoke and raised a palm over her eyes. She narrowed her eyes and scanned the room. If Zeksix was in danger, she prayed she could find him before it was too late.

Her heart leapt to her throat when she spotted him, unconcious under a heavy looking pipe from the goblin’s P.R.E.S.S. machine.

She threw herself through the smoke, dodging stone and wood that crumbled from the ceiling above to reach his side. As she neared the small green blacksmith, she noticed the hiss of steam from the superheated material.

“If it’s not one thing…” she remarked as she ignored the threat of burns and knelt by the Goblin’s side.

She shoved her hands beneath the metal, thankful that the smithing gloves that the goblin loaned her were tough enough to keep most of the heat from reaching her flesh. She grunted and slammed her eyes shut as she wreched upwards to try and lift the hefty pipe. She was pleased to feel the metal move from her surprising strength, but knew in her heart that it may not have been enough on her own.

Then she heard a groan from near her knee. She opened her eyes in time to see Zeksix squirming and shaking his head.

“Whuh Happ—” He said.

“The wrong kind of heavy metal concert.” Juno joked. “But forget that, get yourself loose and we’ll get out of here.”

The goblin looked up at his savior and seemed inspired by her joke. He nodded once, then slapped his palms down on the floor and pushed up hard as he could. Juno grunted and lifted the pipe a few inches more holding it in place as the goblin crawled loose from beneath the metal.

He had gotten loose just as more cinders crashed down from the slumping ceiling. Juno dropped the heavy pipe with a loud ringing thud, then grasped the goblin under an arm and pushed to her feet.

“We are getting out of here!” She said.

“Sure thing toots!” Zeksix said.

Without another word, Juno ran through towards the exit and slammed her shoulder into the door throwing it open. As the pair made it to fresh air and cooler sunlight, the building snapped and crackled and collapsed not a moment too soon.

As the firefighters arrived moments too late, the goblin gave the small runty draenei a thankful look. Juno smiled back and said, “I believe THAT is the worst that could happen.”

The goblin stared at her before laughing at the woman’s joke.

[vixieevox]

Twitterfic Flash Fic - Fiona X Trigon

Surrounded by four angry pirates with a pouch of stolen wages on my hip was not how I wanted to end the past year, but there I was. I had one hand on my cutless grip and the other gripped tight around my pistol. It was hardly enough of a defense if the blokes were smart enough to attack at once, but short of flashing them all and hoping for the best, it was the best I had.

I flashed a winning smile at their leader, the slaver captain Tyren the Black and winked beneath the leather straps that criss-crossed my face.

“Ahoy there cap’n. You didn’t need to bring out the crew to bid me good night. I can see myself out.”

The captain was less than amused at how unafraid I was. He leaned forward and snarled at me shaking a fist in anger while his fellows took a few steps closer. As he spoke his expected threats, I darted my eyes from side to side looking for which of the pirates looked the weakest. The plan was to jump them, run past and give the blokes a merry chase until…

THUNK

A heavy dull sound snapped me out of my concentration as I turned to the side. The right most guard seemed stunned before he collapsed face first onto the cobblestone streets. I noticed the familiar glow of Trigon’s skin and wasted no time to jump into action.

“WHO DA FU— GET THEM!” Tyren yelled as he drew his blades and rushed Trigon. The other two blokes ran at me shouting and swinging their swords wildly.

I couldn’t see what Trigon was doing, but I had a feeling he had it in hand. I focused on leading the two men backwards into a narrower alley way, where they’d have to fight me one at a time, dodging and parrying blows as we danced that deadly dance. When at last I had them where I wanted them and they realized their tactical error, I finally took to the offense.

My pistol erupted belching lead into the first bloke’s gut, while my dagger cleaved cleanly through the other man’s wrist sending his blade flying. He whined and begged for his life as I looked over his shoulder and saw Trigon cutting down the slaver captain. He gave me a sour look that told me that I was in trouble. I cut down the last of the slavers then strode closer to the large troll while cleaning off my blade.

“Ahoy there love, how are y—?” I asked.

Trigon didn’t let me finish before he scooped me up in his arms and gave me a glare.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.” He said.

I smiled and stroked his chin. “Aww, But it was fun! And you know you love me.”

He glared at me with a glowing smoky eye but could only say “Shut up!”

I giggled and brushed my lips across his. “I love you too.”

[vixieevox]

New Year’s Flash Fiction - Fiona

The crew and I sailed to Booty Bay to celebrate the new year and we took over the port all night lon’. I still remember Ally and I findin’ a Pandaren brewer who makes drin’s that affect the undead. After payin’ him for a whole barrel of that swill me love challenged me to a drin’in’ contest which I gladly accepted.

Now, I know that ye be thin’in’ that a Kul’Tiras lady like me be comin’ out on top, especially over a little Shal’dorei elf. But let me tell ye that my love be havin’ the heart of the rough and tumblest sailor in her chest and she somehow drun’ me under the table.

Lost count of our mugs at some number past seven, but I remember collapsin’ down and fallin’ into her lap spillin’ me mug everywhere as the Pandaren clapped for Ally’s victory.

I gave me love a look and blew her a kiss, then kissed her tummy leavin’ me black lipstick mark. She gave me a look, knowin’ full well what kinda mood I be in as soon as the buzz of the brew wore off.

“Help me up,” I said to her, so she slung me arm over her shoulder and helped carry me out the room.

I remember a bloke callin’ out to me first mate, “Tossing her in the drunk tank?” - A nice way to ask if she was tossing me in the ocean.

I grinned as Ally shook her head and said “No, I am going to take her to her quarters and make love to her when the sauce wears off.”

I heard a few blokes laugh in doubt, since I seemed so out of it at the time. I clapped a palm on me first mate’s rear and gave it a good tight squeeze. I winked at the nearest chortlin’ fella and said, “Don’t ye worry, I not be lettin’ a little drin’ keep me from me booty.”

Ally rolled her eyes as she swept me out of the room.

[vixieevox]

New Year’s Flash Fiction - Vixiee

I didn’t know what time it was, where I was, even how wild the previous night had been, but I could confirm that my clothes were on and I didn’t smell like sweat so I was absolutely certain I didn’t sleep with anyone. Which meant that one of the Cartel fellas I hired to keep an eye out for me did their job.

I owed them breakfast or lunch or whatever time it was.

I opened my eyes just enough to regret it as I was met with the hateful bright glare of an angry sun. It felt like two bright lasers were stabbed in my eyes so I slammed them shut and rolled to my side. As I groaned, I slapped a hand down and felt wet soil beneath my fingertips. I poked at the spot and detected the scent of freshly tended soil and swept my fingers through what felt like blades of grass. The motion shook off cool misty dew that touched my green face bringing sweet relief to the throbbing headache from one too many mugs of Volcano Punch.

“Mmmm that feels way bettah”, I said with a lot more purr than I intended.

I wiggled slower to those cooling stalks of grass and folded my arms beneath my cheek to make a good enough pillow. I raised my legs and curled them into a little ball, half expecting Pexi to appear out of nowhere to curl up and spoon beside me, but I knew she had agreed to spend the new year’s celebrating with my sister, Trixiee.

I didn’t mind that though, since I know how important the new year was for Trixiee, since she never stopped working or inventing trying to make the next big get rich scheme. Besides, we all knew that if Pexi AND I got drunk off our asses together at the Orgimmar slammer last night, we’d have ended up in jail for indecent exposure, public naughtiness, or a good healthy brawl. So it was better that way, I was sure.

Still, I’ll admit that I look forward to the day that I can ring in the new year and look to the side and see my wife by my side. But until then, sleeping in the soil with dew on my face, taking one day off from thinking about Fiercefuel Fabrications or my Boltassembly Cartel was nice.

This princess was happy.

[vixieevox]

The Grand Rebranding

There were only twenty minutes before noon, and for the first time in months, I was afraid.

It wasn’t the kind of fear that you might feel if you were facing down a pack of geists while waist-deep in snow. For a warrior trade princess like me, that was just another weekday. It wasn’t the fear that some might feel when facing down someone much larger than them in a hand to hand duel, that was just life as a goblin. It wasn’t even the fear of being penniless since I had hit rock bottom before and dragged myself out of it by my thumbs and could do so again if need be.

I was afraid that my fiancee was going to be late for the biggest day of my life.

I know that sounds selfish, but you have to understand. The plan was months in the making and it’s the biggest gift a goblin could ever give to another.

If Pexi had read the note I left by the steak omelet I cooked for her before heading out, she’d have found a simple message that said “I need you in Bilgewater today at noon. Just go to Shatt and talk to the Draenei named Boorus, he’ll tell you what happens next.” The note shouldn’t have been missed since it was black bold letters on ugly gold paper. The directions should have been clear enough that even if Pexi got distracted, she wouldn’t forget it. I love my fiancee, but she’s not the smartest Troblin on Azeroth. Anyway, after she talked to Boorus, he would teleport her to Orgrimmar where one of my flight-boys would give her a chaperoned ride to Bilgewater isle, that I had rented for the morning and early afternoon for today’s announcement, that my parent company was a rebranding.

No longer would Vixiee Bootsguard be the owner of Bootsguard Productions, she’d be the co-owner of Fiercefuel Fabrications. Same business but named after my fiancee.

I pictured that she would see the brand new sign and marquee that I had secretly designed over the past few weeks and would turn all sorts of shades of red, rush the stage, tackle me, and kiss me until she realized we were making out on stage. We’d have a laugh, mingle, and slip away for some private dining on the Y.A.C.H.T. that I had built and hidden in the Bilgewater warehouses for the day.

But here I was, about to have to make the announcements with the real star of the show nowhere to be seen. If I had to be honest, I was about five seconds from crying. I wanted to cancel the event, tell everyone to take all the snacks and drinks as an apology, and just hide in a room and bawl my eyes out.

But I couldn’t.

See, I’m a trade princess and the world’s strongest woman. So publicly, I have to always be in control. I have to look the part of a proud leader who would never be phased by anything. I wanted to be just like my hero Gazlowe and be honorable and good to my people except for way stronger and more successful. How could I do that if everyone saw me snotting all over the blue sequined dress that I had ordered custom woven from a Silvermoon tailor? It’d be the biggest scandal as one of the new trade princesses on the scene broke down. Even with the recent cooperation deal, I struck with Steamwheedle, I can just see that affecting business deals until the next big scandal drew eyes away from me.

So I had to go through with the rebranding…no matter what.

I shook off the feelings that made my heart hurt and sashayed my way up to the podium in front of the tarp-covered marquee. Every step was graceful, with my thighs slipping out from the slit just enough to draw eyes from the fellas and ladies that fancied amazons like me. My lips were curled in a winning smile and my purple eyes shined reflecting the carefully positioned stage lights and fireworks that heralded my appearance. The band I hired to play Kezan show tunes blared their horns and banged their drums, matching my pace and the sway of my hips.

I’ll admit it was vain as all hell, but when you look as good as me, you can show off at least a little.

Flikk, the MC I hired for the event smiled and shook my hand before the younger goblin turned towards the crowd.

“Yeah, you’re right boss! Enough ‘bout the sandwiches! Let’s give a round of applause to Trade Princess Bootsguard!” Flikk said before leaving me alone on the stage.

I winked at Flikk then grabbed the edges of the podium for support as I scanned the crowd to see if I somehow missed my blue-haired love. I winked at guests as I met their eyes and tapped my skull-shaped hairpin when I saw one of my fans showing off her limited edition recreation. I even feigned a blush when the orc in the back blew me a kiss.

But no sign of Pexi.

I don’t know how I kept the smile on my face, but the show must go on.

“Ok ok fellas,” I said, “I’m happy you are all here but let’s get this show on the road.”

I paused and waited for the whoopin’ and hollering to die down.

Someone in the back coughed and I think someone had gotten drunk on volcano punch and set something on fire when I heard a scream and the distant smell of burnt hair. Someone shouted about the Samoflange. It was good to be home again.

“Three years ago, I opened up my first solo operation,” I said, “Bootsguard productions were always about brand name adventurin’ goods so you could fight bad guys or delve in tombs in style. The devices I made were also a hit, includin’ the Bootsguard Body Blocker Electro Shield. Nevah thought I’d be a trade princess, but careful savings, smart investin’, and bein’ a badass princess like me makes it easy, especially with the help of every one of ya.”

I meant it too. Unlike Gally-bag-of-dix or other losers like him, I cared about the people that worked for me. I didn’t know everyone by name, but I don’t think a single person at that event doubted that I would have jumped to their defense against anything and everyone. I was truly the denmom for this cartel and I loved it.

“But,” I said “there comes a time when a rebrandin’ is in order. And that’s what we’re here for today to announce that—”

I heard a whipping sound and a sheer whistling sound. My ears flicked as I tried to pinpoint the source. The crowd heard it as well, as most the goblins and others there turned and murmured to see what was going on.

The sound was closer then. The whipping sound was a gyrocopter blade chopping through the air and the whistling sound was a familiar voice shouting from the horizon.

“….waaaaAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIT!”

I have to admit, my heart leaped into my throat and I felt like I had to cry. This time, it wasn’t out of frustration or disappointment. It was from the voice of my Fiancee as she clung for dear life on the landing bar of the gyrocopter while the pilot was navigating the burning sparking thing towards the island. I had a ton of questions about what exactly happened to make the thing spark and sputter like that, but I didn’t care at the time. Pexi was there at the nick of time.

As the Gyrocopter reached the island, Pexi threw herself from the burning sparking machine as the pilot swung it around for an emergency landing on the P.I.L.L.O.W. that deployed whenever scanners detected a crashing ship nearing the island. So basically about seven times a day.

“YEEEEEET” shouted Pexi as she activated her rocket boots to try for a safe landing inside of the gathered group.

The guests screamed and shouted as they made way for the troblin expecting the larger woman to crash in on them and break an arm; hers or someone else's. But I stayed still since I designed her propulsion system myself and knew about the para-soles deployment system that would make a perfectly soft and safe landing.

“Hey, doll! Ya made it!” I said to Pexi.

Pexi landed with a soft pat on the earth, her face red and sweating.

“Heya babe,” Pexi said, “Sorry I’m late. The ship had to get repairs since a bear slapped it when we were flying too low and we had to take out the passenger seats so that it could fly again and…”

I raised my hand and shook my head to quiet her. I loved my fiancee, but if I didn’t stop her, she’d explain every minute of the journey and we were already behind schedule.

“Don’t worry about it”, I said as my guests returned to their places, “You’re just in time.”

“In time for what?” Pexi asked.

I smiled at her and sashayed to a rope that trailed down from the tarp that covered the marquee.

“Hey, stop droolin’ at my fiancee”, Pexi said. I heard her slap someone in the back of the head and giggled. I don’t know who she caught, but they had to know better. This princess belonged only to Pexi. Lookin’ was free, but so was head slaps if she caught them.

I ignored the slap and turned around.

“Well doll, I said I was gonna give you the ultimate wedding gift. So…I’ll has to think of something else since our weddin’ is delayed. So call this a ‘cause you mean the world to me’ gift instead.” I said.

I jerked the rope and the tarp rolled off the marquee.

The sign was a flashing neon thing powered by my own eco-friendly pneumatics pumps. It featured Pexi and my faces with an arm outstretched welcoming visitors to whatever building we hung it over. Our faces dangled over the left side of the words “Fiercefuel Fabrications”, with my mascot, the mouse Bullion sleeping inside of the o. The S had a pair of tiny troll tusks sticking out of it to represent half of my fiancee’s parentage, while a pair of bombs dangled beneath, representing that the co-owners were a pair of bombshells.

I waited for Pexi to take it all in, then looked at her with a cheeky smile.

“So doll, what do ya thi—”

Pexi cut me off by leaping over the podium and tackling me to the ground for a big smoochin’ session.

Maybe this plan didn’t go wrong after all.

[vixieevox]

The Trade Princess’ Wish

Nagrand was beautiful in the late winter, or at least whatever passed for winter in that dying world. The sun loomed over the rolling plains with the vigil of an oppressive father, with hot rays bearing down on man and beast alike coaxing them inside. It was a day to stay indoors and rest drunk off of palm wine or feasting on melons and Talbuk.

But for one troblin, it was just another day.

Pexi had been training throughout most the afternoon, beating on the engineered dummies that her fiance had created. Each one had springs, gears, and other features installed that could withstand her might. Lesser dummies often shattered barely an hour into a training session, but these dummies were tough enough that even after morning passed into afternoon, only a few nicks marred the otherwise flawless machine. The strong half-breed took it as a challenge that she was determined to overcome.

Pexi took a break from her training to draw in a breath and wipe a sleeve across her sweat-streaked brow.

“I swear, this shit’s going down if it’s the last thing I do!” she said.

She looked over her shoulder, expecting a taunt or tease from her fiancee only to be met with an empty seat beneath the nearest shade.

“Doll?” Pexi asked. “Where’d ya get off to?”

Pexi thought about returning to her training, but if Vixiee wasn’t out there watching her spar as she always did, something MUST have been on her mind. She slammed her axe into a stump by her side, then turned towards the home she and Vixiee shared. As she approached the door and pushed it open, her thoughts roamed from the dummies to her mate and love.

~~~

Vixiee Bootsguard, her bosses sister and the Trade Princess of the Boltassembly Cartel, was an impressive warrior. Where Pexi charged in like a dervish, Vixiee danced across the battlefield with shield in hand and a smile on her face. Where Pexi preferred Troll and Orcish axes that could cleave trees in two, Vixiee preferred curved blades that sang with each flick of her wrist. In many ways, the women were opposites, with Vixiee fighting as much on her feet and with her mind as she did with her strength while Pexi preferred to overwhelm her foes with pure adrenaline-fueled bravado. But despite Pexi’s undeniably greater strength, she was still only 1 to 5 on victories against her fiancee during their sparring bouts.

Sometimes the losses frustrated her, but Vixiee was always there to offer a helping hand, a word of advice, or a calm explanation on what she did to overwhelm her. Sometimes the lessons stuck, but Pexi was a woman of the here and now, so she often pushed aside her lessons in favor of dinner plans or the cartel’s next adventure.

Her thoughts wandered to how they first met, the first time they kissed, and the first intimate night they spent together. But just as she heard Vixiee humming a song, she lost focus on her thoughts just like that.

~~~

Pexi heard her love humming inside the bedroom at the top of the stairs. The curious woman climbed the stairs step by step, moving as softly as her clumsy feet allowed. The steps were made by Vixiee’s own hand, so they didn’t have the creaks that most homes had, a perfect model of domestic engineering, as opposed to the loud clanks and whirs she was used to in Trixiee’s factory.

The thought nearly crossed Pexi’s mind how Vixiee was so different from her sister Trixiee, but it was hard for the troblin to focus on more than one thought at a time.

She had finally reached the door at the top of the stairs. As her hand tested the handle and found it unlocked, she noticed that Vixiee’s singing hadn’t yet ended or slowed. She twisted the knob and opened the door, closing her free hand into a fist to pounce at her love and start a friendly brawl, one of their favorite pasttimes that often led to exhausting nights of passion.

She pushed the door open and bent at the knees ready to leap.

But she never leapt as her mind lost focus when she saw what Vixiee was wearing.

The sunlight was at the right angle to cast light through the thin blue gown that Vixiee was wearing, allowing the troblin to see her fiancee’s generous curves pressed against the gauzy material. The woman’s muscular legs and arms stretched tantalizingly as Vixiee posed in front of a mirror admiring the reflection it cast. The trade princess’ hips swayed from side to side offering an almost scandalous glimpse at the bounce her softer curves allowed. Vixiee raised her arms above her head, drawing her long red locks into a pony tail that she pinned in place with her signature skull-brand pin. The once model for Playgob still had it all these years later and Vixiee was proud of how hard she worked to maintain her appearance, the one outward sign of vanity she ever allowed.

Pexi’s cheeks burned bright red as her thoughts turned to the lurid, before another thought seized her focus and snapped her out of her spell.

“Doll?” Pexi said, “Ain’t that ya weddin’ dress?”

Vixiee cast her eyes to the side of the mirror where she could see Pexi through the reflection. She smiled sweetly so Pexi could see and bent just so with her palms on her knees in a spitting image of her cover shoot from her favorite picture in that one issue of the gent’s magazine.

“Heya love!” Vixiee said, “Good catch, this is totally my wedding dress.”

She turned at last to face Pexi and crossed her arms over her chest, a slight nod to modesty to keep Pexi from losing focus once more. Vixiee was nothing if not considerate of her fiancee’s issues.

“Well yeah,” Pexi said, “But why ya wearin’ that now? Our weddin’ ain’t for another couple’a weeks.”

Vixiee stared at Pexi and sighed for but a moment before she crossed the room and sat on the bed they shared. The sheets and pillows were in place, only slightly drawn from the touch of the goblin’s rear. She parted her lips to speak, but found herself with nothing to say…

Pexi frowned. Vixiee rarely found herself speechless. Something clearly had to be wrong.

The troblin crossed the room and sat her heavier bottom next to Vixiee, with enough distance so she wouldn’t tear her dress with the spikes of her armor. But Vixiee leaned her head to rest on Pexi’s shoulder and reached an arm to rest on her lap, while the other arm draped across the back of her shoulder. Pexi winced half expecting to hear a tear from the Shaldorei silk garment and held her breath to help her remain still.

Vixiee broke the silence that followed.

“I dunno babe,” Vixiee said, “I guess, I just wanted to feel pretty. Wealth and strength is nice but…ya know? Sometimes I just wanna pretend that I’m just a girl, ya know and not the world’s strongest woman or the soon-to-be first goblin ancestor hero.”

Pexi turned her head and kissed the top of the smaller woman’s head. It was a secret that Vixiee only shared with her fiancee and her younger sister. Beneath the self-proclaimed world’s strongest woman and the indomitable will that proudly stood up to a rogue death knight to defend a much taller orc was someone who didn’t think of herself as a real princess.

“Doll,” Pexi said, “You are the prettiest in the world. I know I say that a lot but it’s cause it’s true! So, stop beatin’ yaself up about it.”

Pexi saw the smile on her lover’s face, but noticed that the radiance didn’t quite reach up to her eyes. Vixiee was confident, bold, kind, and strong, but all of that gave her one fatal flaw that led her to darker moods when she wasn’t busy with one project or other.

She cared and because she cared, she had a hard time not taking on the troubles and pains of her cartel, her sister, goblinkind, and Pexi herself as burdens.

Sometimes, Pexi wished she were just a little smarter so she could find the right words to help push away the troubles from Vixiee’s mind, heart, and soul. But deep inside, the woman knew that because she was simple enough to not carry a thought for very long that Vixiee felt like she could share her heart’s hurts and that was all the Princess ever wished for.

[vixieevox]

A Brand New Crew

Fiona still remembers the first moments of her second life as well as the events that led to her death.

Shortly after her ship was bombarded by the Zandalari in the early days of the war, she was thrown overboard by an explosion and watched helplessly as her captain turned tail and ran rather than rescuing her and the other survivors. As the privateer ship, The Hope of Freeport, sailed off in the distance to flee the Zandalari, Fiona held onto a piece of flotsam with a weakening grip as the troll ships approached for cleanup and salvage from ships that didn’t survive the bombardment.

She had just enough strength in her to look left and right and mark every crewmate she could recognize and pray that their souls were free of the vile witches of Drustvar. She grit her teeth and coughed, her strength ebbing moment to moment. She knew her days were numbered, as the woman was never as good a swimmer as most Kul Tirans were, certainly not enough to hide from the Zandalari.

“I swear by me heart and soul, that somehow I’ll see ye dead Captain Dunkirk.” Fiona said as she shut her eyes for the last time.

If anyone asked Fiona Tarwood if lives flashed before their eyes when they died, she’d laugh and ask you to hand over your ale if you were drunk enough to be mopey. The woman had always lived in the moment and barely spent more than a wink considering the long term consequences of her action. While this led her to having a life full of plunder, hot sex, and fun brawls, it also led her to miss out on the deepest connections with most of her crew. She was quite surprised when, moments before her heart stopped, she found herself thinking back to the first time she told anyone of her ambitions to own her own ship and crew.

~     ~      ~

Fiona Tarwood, despite all of her boisterous attitude and free-spirit about conversation, brawling, and sex, was actually quite the private woman. She never really saw much a point in opening up to anyone about her needs and desires, since she always assumed that no one was interested but herself. If anything, the thought was reinforced by how little her family had to do with her life once her father kicked her out the door to become a cabin girl for Dunkirk’s ship. It was an early lesson that Fiona took to heart that made her bare her heart to no one.

The sole exception was her dear friend, the smaller Kul Tiran, Ember. Like her, Ember was a long time sailor, but unlike Fiona, Ember was smart and had a command of pyromancy that was gifted, at least according to the Stormwind Mage academy that recruited her before the war. Fiona remembered the last night both women spent together before she was shipped off, how Fiona promised to be there when she was ready to return home no matter what.

Ember had asked Fiona a question that she could only remember when she was deepest in her cups. Something that would often give her pause for a moment before she’d wave a hand to dismiss the deep thoughts in preference for the here and now.

“What do you want for yourself?”

Fiona remembered laughing at the question. “What ye be wantin’ to know that for? I’m a full-fledged sailor, no longer a cabin girl to be gawked at when I started fillin’ out, yeah?”

Ember smiled as a small flame danced between her fingers. It was her favorite thing to do whenever she was too tired to look at Fiona as they curled up in a hammock together. While the women were never ‘in-love’ they frequently enjoyed one another’s ocmpany whenever Dunkirk’s ship was in harbor and they could have a moment to themselves without the crew gawking at them.

“I’m serious! I’ll be leaving to become a full-fledged pyromancer. What will you do?” Ember said.

Fiona sighed, “I dunno…”

Ember turned her head. The woman had darker skin that looked great as the morning light caressed her features. “Come on, I’m serious! Try and think real hard and I’ll tell you what I know about that Night Elf you were checking out last night. I might even give you that gold I owe you from that knife-throwing contest.”

Fiona laughed. Ember was the first person she had talked with about her preferences. Fiona didn’t really care about gender, but she knew what she liked and she was too drunk to do more than make a fool of herself when she was hitting on that night elf with the great beard.

Fiona waved a hand, “Don’t worry about that guy. That ship sailed and I be thinkin’ about the next voyage already…now I’ll give ye me measure for that gold ye owe me before the cap’n drops ye off.”

“Well?” Fiona said

Fiona sighed and folded her fingers behind her head. “One day, I be wantin’ me own crew and ship. Cap’n Tarwood sounds nice.”

~     ~     ~

Fiona shook her head and sat up. She opened her eyes and took shape of where she was. All around her were science things with bubbling glass bottles of green and blue liquids. She knew the items had names, but she couldn’t think about them at the time. She felt a sheet slip down her flesh and looked down just to watch a medical sheet drift over her round breasts to land in her lap. She blinked and realized that something was off when she noticed that her skin was pale and alabaster, still youthful looking and lush, but drained of most the color she was known for in life.

“What happened to me?” she said.

“You are dead, my dear.”

Fiona turned towards the male’s voice and grabbed for something to defend herself with. Her eyes settled on the unmistakable form of a forsaken who was busy wiping his hands on a cloth. The figure had glowing gold eyes and a lip that seemed to be set in a permanent sneer. An imp danced and giggled pointing a tiny claw at Fiona’s chest before the forsaken swatted it off the table with a quick whip of a hand.

“That…” the figure said, “…wasn’t a threat. It was a fact. Put down that scalpel before I have to hurt you.”

“What ye be meanin’” Fiona said.

The man stared at her. “…great, looks like we chose the wrong one to raise. I’ll tell you in brief then. Your body was recovered from a recent naval conflict and The Dark Lady has chosen you to be raised. You are Forsaken now, given new life that may be ended in the next few minutes if you don’t prove useful.”

Fiona blinked and looked around the room. It was then that she noticed figures with glowing eyes waiting around the lab and the gleam of metal as crossbows were raised and aimed at her. Fiona cursed beneath a breath she didn’t have to take.

“So…” the figure said, “I can ask you if you have any information on Kul Tiras that may prove useful to The Horde or Kul Tiras. If I like your answer, I’ll sign you off and get you back in your clothes, which by the way I personally sewn. Your welcome!”

Fiona thought quick. She had heard of the Horde, of course, she remembered what happened in Theramore from what her family had mentioned and there was a small part of her that wanted to say she’d prefer death. But then two thoughts forced themselves into the forefront of her mind.

Captain Dunkirk must die for abandoning me I promised Ember I’d pick her up from School

She pursed her lips as a thought came to mind that just might get her out of this one.

“If I tell ye where lost ships lie in the waters, full of corpses and treasure for yer coffers, will ye let me live and have a chance at killin’ a bastard of a cap’n?” Fiona said.

The figure finally broke a smile as he tossed the cloth in his hands at the nearby imp.

“Go on.” He said.

Fiona noticed the lowering of the crossbow bolts and she knew she’d live this day. Perhaps she’d have a chance at her own crew and ship yet.

[vixieevox]

The Tale of Captain Moreaux: As told by Tarwood at last night’s Haunted Hootenanny

Long ago, Captain Moreaux was the true terror of the seas. A real bastard of a bloke who plundered ships and make sure that every man or women on board that wasn’t put to the sword was chained to heavy things and drowned. He wanted no one to defy him and didn’t have time fer revenge and figured that ghost stories were just that; stories to keep bad kids awake at night.

Anyway, one day Moreaux and his crew were sailin’ and came across a merchant schooner that bore the wicker man effigy on it’s prow meanin’ that a witch was on board. Witches rarely sailed unless they had business that required makin’ deals with us normal folk, so sailors all across Kul Tiras would throw out a Wicker Man to warn pirates and privateers to bugger off! It worked on most captains, except for Moreaux. See, he either didn’t care or didn’t believe in witches, maybe even figured that sailors would han’ effigies for no good reason, just to try and scare off pirates.

So Moreaux ordered an assault and even fired the first shot, sinkin’ the ship and laughin’ as it was set ablaze and fell to the ocean’s bottom. The crew was scared and nervous, figurin’ the witches were going to get them, but they feared Moreaux even more who threatened to gut any man who abandoned the ship. Poor fools obeyed him.

See, it was only until that night when thin’s got weird, with the crew hearin’ scratchin’ on the outer decks. Scritch scritch scritch. Just again and again. scritch scritch scritch. It was like someone be tryin’ to claw through the hull from the deep waters. The crew wanted to hit land and burn the ship, but Moreaux refused claimin’ it was just a crab or some barnacles rubbin’ against stones they couldn’t see.

But then, the disappearances started. The First Mate, the cabin boy, the helmsman, even the Boatswain. One by one men and women disappeared. Moreaux had the ships searched, even stood on the prow to watch and make sure no one stole the lifeboats or jumped overboard, but there ne no sign of anyone leavin’. Just every night scritch scritch scritch and the next morning another disappearance.

Moreaux was down to ten blokes, himself included, and finally decided it was time to go to land. But by then, it be far far too late. Because as he slept on the night he made that choice, the sound of silence woke him up wit’ a start. I don’t mean it was kinda quiet. I mean there be no sound at all. No wind. No lappin’ of the sea. No scratchin’. Not even the creak of the ship. Just dead silence. He searched his ship callin’ the names of the remaining crew: “Polly, George, Anna, Roger…” every name he called out, no response. He searched the ship, high and low, with weapons drawn. He climbed up to the Crow’s Nest. He even tore up some floor boards on the upper deck expecting the men to be hiding in a hidden smuggler’s port. But there was no one on the ship with him.

Moreaux pointed the ship to land and went up to his cabin to sleep.

Then…SCRITCH SCRITCH SCRITCH

He woke up with a start, and you know what he found?

He was trapped inside a coffin, shut tight with iron nails made from the very cannonballs he fired upon that witch’s ship. The scritches he heard were his own fingers tryin’ in vain to claw his way out. And the reason he couldn’t hear anything else was that his ears were plugged as the ocean water burst through the cracks to fill up his new tomb.

Did the crew toss him overboard and prayed that the witches would spare him? Or did the witch’s kill every man to the last saving Cruel Captain Moreaux as the final nail in the coffin? All I can tell ye true, is don’t give the witches reason to come for ye.

[howlingowl-wra]

The Howling Owl’s Hallow’s End Festival

Come join us for our 1st Annual Hallow’s End Festival!

Join us in Caer Darrow for an evening filled with Hallow’s End themed vendors, performances, and raffles! The night will be finished off with a dance party!

As always with The Howling Owl’s events, Horde or Alliance are welcome!

When: Friday, October 25th, 5PM WrA

Schedule:  6-8PM WrA: Vendors - Booths are currently full! List coming soon! 8PM: Performances 9PM: Dance party and raffle drawings immediately following performances

Where: Caer Darrow, Western Plaguelands

!! RAFFLE !!

Raffle info:   There are 2 separate raffles.  1 paid raffle. 1 free raffle. The paid raffle will be 500g a ticket, limit 40 tickets per person.  The free raffle will be a separate raffle with entries via a google form. Each night after performances, winners will be called. You must be present to win or a new winner will be picked. Open to both Horde and Alliance!

Paid Raffle Prizes: 

1 Store Mount

1 In-game Mount

1 Headshot Commission by @lesleylycan

Example:

Free Raffle Prizes:

-Choice of various pets, toys and mounts!

Join our Discord server here! Give our festival blog a follow too!

@the-royal-courier @wowrpevents @wracentral @wrahordeevents @warcraftisastage

[fence-macabre]

Come one, come all, come to the Haunted Hootenanny, the only place where you can commit and absolve your sins in the same night, thanks to Confessor Grendaris Tombfire! Start this Hallow’s End season off right by wiping the moral slate clean!

[vixieevox]

I know where my girl Tarwood is going this Sunday.

[vixieevox]

Where are they now: Sapphois

The path that wound its way up Mount Neverest may have been paved centuries ago, but with the fierce winds and biting cold married to those steps, it was never an easy trail. Every few feet, a traveler might step on an unseen patch of ice, trip, and fall back losing minutes of progress.

Sapphois remembered the Grummel she passed at the base of the mountain who told her that the skies were a light breeze making it an ideal time to fly. He assumed, correctly, that Sapphois was a mage and she very well could just teleport or summon a carpet to rise the crags and make it to its peak. But Sapphois needed the challenge, she needed the cold, she needed the focus.

The temptation was strong to summon a shield of flame to keep her warm, as the bitter cold bit into her flesh even with the heavy robes she wore. She could have cleared the path with gouts of flame, so she could see when ice was coming and find a different path. She could have done so much to ease the journey with a simple snap of her finger and a conjuration.

“But, that’s the problem. It is too simple.” Sapphois said as she pushed the nagging out of her mind.

During the Fourth War, the easy option WAS present at all times. The option to betray Pact and Conclave had never truly left her mind. After all, Sylvanas was the warchief who saw her home freed from the Legion. Turning her back on her savior always felt wrong…though now that she’s learned without a doubt that the Warchief never cared for her, her city, or the Horde. The Shal’dorei realized then that blind submission to repay a debt was precisely how Ellisande came into power and that was exactly what forced her and others like her into The Dusk Lily.

“How foolish I’ve been.”

The decision to come to Pandaria and climb the peaks was a sudden one. She only left a note for her sister-by-all-but-blood and hoped that Az’goth wouldn’t scold her too badly when…if she returned.

That brought her to where she was, fighting and struggling to climb up the path. Fighting against ice and snow and pushing her body to its limit. Every time she fell and felt the urge to make the simple, obvious choice, she forced herself to recall the pride she felt when she made the journey last time. She had forgotten that her role as a Dusk Lily agent was never truly over and that she had neither the focus or wisdom to use her magic to proper effect. She doubted she had the power to stop Sylvanas on her own, but if she had interceded far earlier…

She shook her head. “It makes no sense to worry about what could have been. Take the information you have now, and act.”

The phrase was one her mentor in the Dusk Lily told her, mirrored by Nev’enra in the advice the noble often gave her when they were alone in her gardens. Regret and questions were the province of others who needed rescuing, not those who could rescue them, or so the elf thought.

She licked her lips and continued the journey up Mount Neverest. She felt in her soul that she’d find answers to her questions on these crags, and it was about time she let her heart and soul think.