World of Warcraft®

I'm currently on the hunt for a new RP server and would be rolling a new character. I've been trying out Sentinels lately but I can only listen to so many crickets! I'd appreciate opinions from CC veterans on whether I and my potential characters (RP-wise) might be well received here before I invest more time rolling another alt. This was an introduction story for a Worgen Druid. If anyone is really bored, you can read the zany, whacky adventures of my Tauren Druid main here - http://fav.me/d5v8q4n Her crazy introduction story is in the last two replies.

"For Light's sake, Mother!"

"Eabæ Elizabeth Valdayne! Do not take that tone with me. Redwald, talk some sense into your daughter." Tegan Valdayne turned to her husband and peered aristocratically down her sweetly upturned nose at the back of the newspaper he was currently hiding behind in an effort to avoid the two arguing women in the room. He mumbled something unintelligible and snapped the edges of the paper as he sunk down lower into the overstuffed armchair.

"Oh, for Light's sake," Tegan mumbled at his affected cowardice. The corner of her daughter's lips twitched smugly. The man never could bear to choose a side between the two women who shook his world upside down on a daily basis.

Tegan turned back to her daughter while smoothing the front of her dress and taking a moment to compose herself into the lady she had been bred to be. The discussion had already gotten more heated than she had intended when she had decided to broach the subject…again. While both women were of short stature and shared the same pert lips and nose in a heart-shaped pixielike face, the resemblance ended there as Eabæ tended to favor her father with a hot temper, a tanned complexion from too much time outdoors, and hair the color of a ripe autumn chestnut. As the youngest of five children and the only daughter, Eabæ was somewhat spoiled and used to getting her way. She overindulged in everything from sunshine to food, and it showed in the healthy glow of her skin, mischievous brown eyes, and mature contours of her voluptuous curves. Tegan herself was fair as the summer sun with golden yellow hair (now so expertly streaked with silver that her sign of aging appeared wrought by an artist's skilled hand) and clear cornflower blue eyes. Her figure was trim and svelte with not an ounce of excess upon her body except for an incongruously well-endowed bosom that necessitated altering of all her dresses. Her skin was like translucent alabaster so delicate and fine that if one looked closely they could see the tiny veins marbling her body, and her personality had been bred to be demure and always proper. Indeed, sometimes she almost seemed chilly enough to be a marble statuette, but everyone that knew her was aware of just how hot her blood ran beneath that frosty exterior. It was that warmth and caring for her daughter that prompted her now to sigh in exasperation as she tried another track.

"Between your brothers galloping off to Pandaria and to slay dragons and now you wanting to join the Explorers' Guild, I'm never going to have any grandbabies. Jason Kincaid was asking after you just yesterday, in fact. He seems totally besotted with you since you saved his life. It wouldn't hurt to least give him a chance, Zizzy." Perhaps where antagonistic prodding hadn't worked, guilt might.

Eabæ's eyes rolled skyward as she huffed an errant lock of hair out of her eyes. The thick, shining tresses were ridiculously long and fell in a gently rippling waterfall cascade all the way to the tops of her thighs when let loose. Normally, however, her hair was secured quite rigorously with combs and pins to keep it up and out of the way since she couldn't bear to cut even one little inch off it.

"I dinna save his life, Mother," she began, wincing internally at the bare widening of her mother's cultured eyes when the trace of Dun Morogh brogue rolled off her tongue. You're spending too much time with the Dwarves, Zizzy. She could hear the reprimand already. Continuing hurriedly to cut it off, she said, "I just told him not to eat that sickly looking fish or he'd get very, very ill." She pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose. She hated the blasted things and only wore them in private even though she could scarcely see three feet in front of her without them. "It's hardly my fault that he interpreted that as me saving his life. He's a halfwit," she finished with a trace of pity and a touch of anger. She was sick of her mother foisting suitors on her and trying to marry her off already. Joining the Guild would afford her the chance to get out from under the matriarchal rule in her home, explore the world, and even be encouraged to play in the mud if it meant finding a treasure! Next, her mother would launch into the speech about being married and pregnant already when she was Zizzy's age. Such was the nature of their repetitive arguments on the subject of Zizzy's future.

Tegan took a deep breath, ready to expel it in another rush of words meant to convince her daughter of someone else's intentions. Much as she was loathe to admit it, Zizzy was right; the man was a halfwit and it was minor miracle he had survived this long without someone looking after him. The crinkle of paper and the gentle clearing of Redwald's throat caused the pair to shift their darkening gazes from each other to him. His eyes slid over the ramrod stiff posture that his wife donned like armor each time she went to verbal battle with their only daughter. He supposed he had gotten lucky having the four boys born before one unruly and headstrong daughter. She was more trouble than eight boys, it seemed. At least they had provided help in keeping her safe from herself while growing up.

His dark brown eyes under thick brows moved to his daughter now as he leaned forward in his chair and braced his forearms on his thighs. His face was networked with tiny laugh lines around his eyes and mouth and tanned golden bronze from the sunshine. He had been helping down at the Stormwind Docks to keep himself busy since they had settled here a few months ago. He knew Zizzy was restless and that she had been hopping over to Ironforge every chance she had to get away.

"Let her go, Tegan," he said simply, avoiding the pained look in his wife's eyes as he finally chose a side. "She needs to spread her wings and fly. She's a harvest-witch. We have too few of those anymore. Let her grow."

Tegan's shoulders slumped ever so faintly in defeat as her husband rose to stand by her side and place a hand upon one. She knew deep in her heart that he was right. It was why she had been fighting so hard against the fates to try to keep Eabæ here with them. What would she do with all her children out there in that frightening world? How would she fill her time? Her entire world had been changing much too fast in the last few months, and she just wasn't as resilient as her children in adapting to all the changes. She looked up into Redwald's eyes and she could almost hear his baritone timbre saying, "You could grow, too." She was jealous of her daughter, she realized. Zizzy was getting to go out and see the world. She wouldn't be constrained by the proprieties of upper class society because that world had been broken with the crumbling of the Wall. The world out here was emphatically different than Gilneas, and her daughter was assimilating to it with barely any effort at all while Tegan herself had remained mostly holed up in their new home and avoiding "life out there."

Eabæ watched her parents as they seemed to have a silent communication with each other. She could tell the exact moment that her mother capitulated and gave up the fight once and for all, the barely perceptible roll of her shoulders under Redwald's broad calloused palm. She snatched her rucksack off the floor and flung it upon her back while fighting a sudden urge to cry. Her parents would be right here in this house, and Ironforge was only a short flight away. She could visit any time she liked, she told herself to seal her resolve.

"All right then," her mother said softly. "Go join your Explorers' Guild and play with your Dwarves. Get it out of your system so that you can come home that much sooner." Tegan told herself that this was merely an adolescent phase, nevermind that her daughter was now 22 years of age. Once Eabæ had a taste of the world she would come back to where she belonged and settle down properly.

"Oh! Thank you, Mother! Father! I'll name my first big discovery after you! Tegwald's Cask or Redegan's Urn, something like that," their daughter spoke in an excited rush of words. She stepped forward to quickly envelope her parents in a fierce hug that left them both breathless and then scurried out the door before they changed their minds. Tegan leaned into the sheltering embrace of her husband as one muscular arm braced about her waist, a safe port in an emotional storm, and he watched his daughter through the window as she tucked her spectacles into a shirt pocket and began stumbling her way toward the aerie. He shook his head with a soft sigh of his own. Good luck, Daughter, and Light help those poor Dwarves…

This was my main's introduction story many, many moons ago (6 years next month, in fact). I still write for my quirky, accident-prone Druid and would consider moving her if I can find a server where I can actually manage to get involved in some of the RP scene.

Pathia tilted her head back and stared straight up to the launch projecting off the Lower Rise of Thunder Bluff. Her mouth gaped slightly as a crooked smile worked its way over her features. She would finally see the city! The lift descended amid shuddering groans and creaks that changed her grin to a suspicious tightening of her lips; after all, she was hardly capable of flight if that thing should suddenly plummet back to Mulgore's plains. A gust of wind buffeted against the structure, and it swayed with what she considered an alarming amount of jostling. Tentatively, she took a step backwards away from the conveyance as it landed, only to be thrust forward again as several people behind her merged ahead to board. She muttered a soft prayer as it slowly ascended and then stumbled her way onto the Lower Rise when it finally reached the top.

Her nose wrinkled up into an expression of distaste as she was assaulted by the overwhelming stench of perfume and cologne. She coughed a few times and then exhaled forcefully through her nares as if that could clear the cloying aroma from her sense of smell. Then she attempted to breathe shallowly through her mouth until, after a few breaths, she realized that only made her taste the scents. She pinched her nose shut with one hand, covered her mouth with the palm, and hailed a Bluffwatcher with her free hand.

"Excuse me?" she called with a muffled nasal twang to gain his attention.

"Yes?" he replied with amorous smile which was quickly followed by a frown. "You have no token for me? Do you not love me?"

"Er...," Pathia blinked in puzzlement at the large male. "I have some Mulgore spice bread," she offered with that crooked grin that gave her muzzle a sideways appearance. She released her nose to root through the small pouch drooping off her cracked leather belt. The blunt tip of one stubby finger poked through a hole in the bottom, enlarging it marginally, before she triumphantly pulled out a shattered loaf of bread. One end had been completely squashed flat, and the other looked like she had already been chewing on it. She dangled it in her fingertips in a poor imitation of what she had seen the hunters in her village doing with kodo meat and a newly tamed companion.

The guard dragged his hand over his face with a weary sigh. "Why is it always on my shifts? Kal never has these problems," he muttered to himself. He dropped his hand away only to wave it in dismissal at the ragtag young woman. She looked like she had been sleeping in a brier patch for the last week and liked it so much she had brought the whole bush with her. He resisted the urge to pluck some errant twigs and leaves from her mane as he would one of his daughters. "What do you need, Sister?" he asked in a more kindly tone.

Pathia bounced twice on her hooves and shoved the bread back into the pouch, producing a shower of crumbs to pool at the ground next to her and attracting several nearby birds. She paid them no mind as they squabbled across her hooves and dove at her swaying tail.

"Well, firstly, I need to find Kym Wildmane here; she's a Druid. I was told she would be on the Elder Rise, but I am not sure which direction that is." She shoved a worn map against his nose. It showed three overlapping circles for the three main rises as well as three outer circles for the extended rises. None of them were labeled.

The guard gritted his teeth and then gently pushed her arm down so that he could actually see what she was trying to show him. He quickly labeled the outer rises as well as the main rises with a piece of charcoal. Then he drew a rather blatant arrow pointing towards the center of the Elder Rise. "You will find the Runetotems and other druids here. You need to take that ramp over there," he instructed slowly as if speaking with a simpleton.
"Follow it up to the next rise. From there you will find the bridge that will take you to Elder Rise. If you get lost, just ask the guard with the broken horn up there," he added with a chuckle. That'll serve Malyn right for that trick he played last week involving that harpy, he thought.

"Wonderful! Secondly, what tokens?" she continued with a curious slant to her ears.

"What what?" he countered with a measure of confusion before a light seemed to dawn on him. "Oh! Love tokens in exchange for these." He held out a small package wrapped in pink paper. "They have flowers, chocolates, dresses…" he trailed off, suddenly realizing how ridiculous it all sounded. "Look, I just do what I'm told. Sometimes this job isn't all about thumping wayward Night Elves that took a wrong turn and stumbled onto the Bluff, you know?" He scratched the back of his neck and mumbled something under his breath.

Pathia's lips merely twitched at the corners as she gave him a cheery wave as thanks and trotted off towards the ramp at the far end of the rise. Her head swiveled left and right and back again as she marveled at the sheer number of people dodging back and forth across the rise. She had never seen a Blood Elf or Forsaken in person.

"I wonder which is which?" she murmured as she went past a group that was clearly not Orc, Troll, or Tauren.

Contrary to the guard's opinion of her, she was no simpleton and she found her way over the Elder Rise without incident. Kym was easy to spot and much like Pathia remembered from when she had last seen the Druid.

"Kym! It is good to see you again," Pathia greeted her warmly as the two embraced.

"And you as well, Runeclaw. Does this mean you have decided to take my advice?" She had last seen the young female at the ceremony marking her entrance to adulthood. She had sensed that the typical hunter's path known among the Wildmane held no appeal for Pathia, an idea that was only reinforced when the Elders of their tribe bestowed the name "Runeclaw" upon her.

Pathia bobbed her head enthusiastically. "I have! I have no desire to tromp through the woods firing off shot or bolt while chasing after something that hasn't bathed in a week."

Kym merely smirked silently in response as Pathia had never been known for her neat appearance. Even now, Pathia stood before her with herbs and plants tangled in her fur, a few owl feathers jutting haphazardly from around her tunic, and what looked like a few bear teeth hanging around her neck on a leather thong that seemed in danger of breaking any second. She nodded encouragingly for Pathia to continue.

"The Elders seemed eager for me to come here to train in the ways of a Druid as well," she went on, her smile faltering for a second. "I'm sure it had nothing to do with what happened during archery practice. I really had no idea the wind would shift like that and carry the dart to Elder Thal's backside. The shamans fixed him right up though, and I think he was even able to sit again by the time I left," she finished optimistically.

Kym choked on a guffaw that sputtered into a coughing fit. When she had regained her composure she smiled broadly, "Come then, and meet the Arch Druid, Hamuul Runetotem." She took the other woman by the arm and led the way to the beginning of "Runeclaw's" official training.