Let me heal you, potential tank friends! I swear I'll try! I bet you don't even die that much. Ish.
Naywearer's Clotherie: All Nude Revue
Stop skipping legs day, Finn.
You wanna be swole, not a roll.
You wanna be swole, not a roll.
Auraelith Ebonveil walked the streets of Silvermoon City, an air of excitement in every step like a child visiting the Darkmoon Faire for the very first time. . Her eyes drifted from each structure, statue, tent, and passerby, their apple-green hue typically laden in ash from decades of emotional chaos seemed a bit less pallid this day. Worthwhile objectives seemed to calm her frayed nerves, allowing her the luxury of a brief mental respite. Passing the Wayfarer's Inn, her eyes fell upon an old comrade leaning against the wall just within the entrance way. The cigarette he scarcely ventured without was held taut between his pristine teeth, eyes fixated on the wall in front of him, the intensity of his scrutiny enough to bore a hole straight through. He was simply statuesque in form, an enigmatic expression etched into his face, a battle scar the only flaw upon the marble carving that formed his visage. His perpetual brooding atop it all only adding to his natural allure. The sun bounced off his armor and hand-crafted greatsword, both dutifully polished to perfection: the epitome of a warrior. Her steps came to a halt, her eyes drinking in his every facet.
"Liore Bloodwing...what so consumes you this day, dear?" Aura spoke softly to herself, her satin lips forming the elusive question as if someone or something would simply show her the answer. Did she truly wish to know? This mysterious man-creature had come into her life nearly a decade ago with all the subtlety of a tsunami. Her various sources had compiled enough information to understand that behind that poison stare lie as many decades of chaos and torment as Aura herself, if not many more. The tranquility he had mastered to mask his perpetual anguish was nothing short of extraordinary, his daily composure being that of highest nobility with manners and class to spare. All of this did little to mask his agony. Aura knew him to be a kindred spirit, though while their paths forever crossed, they seemed to never intertwine. Of what use was a warrior if someone could pierce his expertly crafted walls and infinite layers of emotional barricades? He'd feel vulnerable...weakened ....perhaps one of hundreds of reasons why they only ever shared such a distant, though comfortable camaraderie.
Aura's mind so consumed by her curiosity, she flinched like a little girl with a crush when she realized he'd met her stare. He regarded her with a firm nod, those fierce eyes numbing her senses, sending her spirit into wretched turmoil. A devilish smirk, her only ally for so many years, replied to his acknowledgement as she took to walking again. Her heart pounded. Only -he- confused her by simply existing. He was one of few who knew her darkest secret, what she was: San'layn. He was one of few who had escaped the boundless lust that is the very essence of Aura's existence, that which robbed countless beautiful creatures of their right to live. How could she fathom such a thought? Aside from his extensive battlefield prowess, powerful allies in the Guttersnipe Brigade, and wealth great enough, she was sure, to pardon treason itself, she respected him. Much to her chagrin, Liore Bloodwing was above the rest. This fact did nothing to squelch her craving. Admiration and intrigue had only become insatiable craving, infuriating restraint. He was off-limits.....and this enraged her with a twisted form of jealousy. Those times he had come into her, seeming so long ago now, had done nothing but fan the flames, becoming distant memories obsessed with haunting her. The taste of his skin: the tangible and palpable anguish that seeped through his flesh, that savage gaze a window to his tortured soul, the command he held over his desire until she pushed him just over the edge as his strength and life was siphoned and savored, awakening the dormant beast within him.....
....................................
"Lady Ebonveil....I beg you pardon my intrusion." Sadri Morningbringer, her loyal Right Hand and chief guardian, shook her from her reverie with a start. "I have word of her whereabouts, as requested. She is 'alone' for the time being, my lady."
Auraelith refocused, all curiosity and pleasure erased from her mind as she recalled why she had been walking in the first place.
"Let's go."
"Liore Bloodwing...what so consumes you this day, dear?" Aura spoke softly to herself, her satin lips forming the elusive question as if someone or something would simply show her the answer. Did she truly wish to know? This mysterious man-creature had come into her life nearly a decade ago with all the subtlety of a tsunami. Her various sources had compiled enough information to understand that behind that poison stare lie as many decades of chaos and torment as Aura herself, if not many more. The tranquility he had mastered to mask his perpetual anguish was nothing short of extraordinary, his daily composure being that of highest nobility with manners and class to spare. All of this did little to mask his agony. Aura knew him to be a kindred spirit, though while their paths forever crossed, they seemed to never intertwine. Of what use was a warrior if someone could pierce his expertly crafted walls and infinite layers of emotional barricades? He'd feel vulnerable...weakened ....perhaps one of hundreds of reasons why they only ever shared such a distant, though comfortable camaraderie.
Aura's mind so consumed by her curiosity, she flinched like a little girl with a crush when she realized he'd met her stare. He regarded her with a firm nod, those fierce eyes numbing her senses, sending her spirit into wretched turmoil. A devilish smirk, her only ally for so many years, replied to his acknowledgement as she took to walking again. Her heart pounded. Only -he- confused her by simply existing. He was one of few who knew her darkest secret, what she was: San'layn. He was one of few who had escaped the boundless lust that is the very essence of Aura's existence, that which robbed countless beautiful creatures of their right to live. How could she fathom such a thought? Aside from his extensive battlefield prowess, powerful allies in the Guttersnipe Brigade, and wealth great enough, she was sure, to pardon treason itself, she respected him. Much to her chagrin, Liore Bloodwing was above the rest. This fact did nothing to squelch her craving. Admiration and intrigue had only become insatiable craving, infuriating restraint. He was off-limits.....and this enraged her with a twisted form of jealousy. Those times he had come into her, seeming so long ago now, had done nothing but fan the flames, becoming distant memories obsessed with haunting her. The taste of his skin: the tangible and palpable anguish that seeped through his flesh, that savage gaze a window to his tortured soul, the command he held over his desire until she pushed him just over the edge as his strength and life was siphoned and savored, awakening the dormant beast within him.....
....................................
"Lady Ebonveil....I beg you pardon my intrusion." Sadri Morningbringer, her loyal Right Hand and chief guardian, shook her from her reverie with a start. "I have word of her whereabouts, as requested. She is 'alone' for the time being, my lady."
Auraelith refocused, all curiosity and pleasure erased from her mind as she recalled why she had been walking in the first place.
"Let's go."
Edited by Auraelith on 8/26/2013 7:05 AM PDT
And there I saw the Black City,
Its towers forever stain'd,
Its gates forever shut.
Heaven has been filled with silence,
I knew then,
And cross'd my heart with shame.
Let the blade pass through the flesh,
Let my blood touch the ground,
Let my cries touch their hearts. Let mine be the last sacrifice.
Those who oppose thee.
Shall know the wrath of heaven.
Field and forest shall burn,
The seas shall rise and devour them,
The wind shall tear their nations.
From the face of the earth,
Lightning shall rain down from the sky,
They shall cry out to their false gods,
And find silence.
Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls.
From these emerald waters doth life begin anew.
Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you.
In my arms lies Eternity.
Blessed are they who stand before.
The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.
Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.
Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.
In their blood the Maker's will is written.
The first of the Maker's children watched across the Veil.
And grew jealous of the life.
They could not feel, could not touch.
In blackest envy were the demons born.
At Shartan's word, the sky.
Grew black with arrows.
At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords.
Rang from their sheaths,
A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly proclaiming:
Those who had been slaves were now free.
The Old Gods will call to you,
From their ancient prisons they will sing.
Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts,
On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight,
The first of My children, lost to night.
And so we burned. We raised nations, we waged wars,
We dreamed up false gods, great demons.
Who could cross the Veil into the waking world,
Turned our devotion upon them, and forgot you.
There was no word.
For heaven or for earth, for sea or sky.
All that existed was silence.
Then the Voice of the Maker rang out,
The first Word,
And His Word became all that might be:
Dream and idea, hope and fear,
Endless possibilities.
And from it made his firstborn.
And he said to them:
In My image I forge you,
To you I give dominion.
Over all that exists.
By your will.
May all things be done.
Then in the center of heaven.
He called forth.
A city with towers of gold,
streets with music for cobblestones,
And banners which flew without wind.
There, He dwelled, waiting.
To see the wonders.
His children would create.
The children of the Maker gathered.
Before his golden throne.
And sang hymns of praise unending.
But their songs.
Were the songs of the cobblestones.
They shone with the golden light.
Reflected from the Maker's throne.
They held forth the banners.
That flew on their own.
And the Voice of the Maker shook the Fade.
Saying: In My image I have wrought.
My firstborn. You have been given dominion.
Over all that exists. By your will.
All things are done.
Yet you do nothing.
The realm I have given you.
Is formless, ever-changing.
And He knew he had wrought amiss.
So the Maker turned from his firstborn.
And took from the Fade.
A measure of its living flesh.
And placed it apart from the Spirits, and spoke to it, saying:
Here, I decree.
Opposition in all things:
For earth, sky.
For winter, summer.
For darkness, Light.
By My Will alone is Balance sundered.
And the world given new life.
And no longer was it formless, ever-changing,
But held fast, immutable,
With Words for heaven and for earth, sea and sky.
At last did the Maker.
From the living world.
Make men. Immutable, as the substance of the earth,
With souls made of dream and idea, hope and fear,
Endless possibilities.
Then the Maker said:
To you, my second-born, I grant this gift:
In your heart shall burn.
An unquenchable flame.
All-consuming, and never satisfied.
From the Fade I crafted you,
And to the Fade you shall return.
Each night in dreams.
That you may always remember me.
And then the Maker sealed the gates.
Of the Golden City.
And there, He dwelled, waiting.
To see the wonders.
His children would create.
Those who had been cast down,
The demons who would be gods,
Began to whisper to men from their tombs within the earth.
And the men of Tevinter heard and raised altars.
To the pretender-gods once more,
And in return were given, in hushed whispers,
The secrets of darkest magic.
And as the black clouds came upon them,
They looked on what pride had wrought,
And despaired.
No matter their power, their triumphs,
The mage-lords of Tevinter were men.
And doomed to die.
Then a voice whispered within their hearts,
Shall you surrender your power.
To time like the beasts of the fields?
You are the Lords of the earth!
Go forth to claim the empty throne.
Of Heaven and be gods.
In secret they worked.
Magic upon magic.
All their power and all their vanity.
They turned against the Veil.
Until at last, it gave way.
Its towers forever stain'd,
Its gates forever shut.
Heaven has been filled with silence,
I knew then,
And cross'd my heart with shame.
Let the blade pass through the flesh,
Let my blood touch the ground,
Let my cries touch their hearts. Let mine be the last sacrifice.
Those who oppose thee.
Shall know the wrath of heaven.
Field and forest shall burn,
The seas shall rise and devour them,
The wind shall tear their nations.
From the face of the earth,
Lightning shall rain down from the sky,
They shall cry out to their false gods,
And find silence.
Here lies the abyss, the well of all souls.
From these emerald waters doth life begin anew.
Come to me, child, and I shall embrace you.
In my arms lies Eternity.
Blessed are they who stand before.
The corrupt and the wicked and do not falter.
Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.
Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow.
In their blood the Maker's will is written.
The first of the Maker's children watched across the Veil.
And grew jealous of the life.
They could not feel, could not touch.
In blackest envy were the demons born.
At Shartan's word, the sky.
Grew black with arrows.
At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords.
Rang from their sheaths,
A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly proclaiming:
Those who had been slaves were now free.
The Old Gods will call to you,
From their ancient prisons they will sing.
Dragons with wicked eyes and wicked hearts,
On blacken'd wings does deceit take flight,
The first of My children, lost to night.
And so we burned. We raised nations, we waged wars,
We dreamed up false gods, great demons.
Who could cross the Veil into the waking world,
Turned our devotion upon them, and forgot you.
There was no word.
For heaven or for earth, for sea or sky.
All that existed was silence.
Then the Voice of the Maker rang out,
The first Word,
And His Word became all that might be:
Dream and idea, hope and fear,
Endless possibilities.
And from it made his firstborn.
And he said to them:
In My image I forge you,
To you I give dominion.
Over all that exists.
By your will.
May all things be done.
Then in the center of heaven.
He called forth.
A city with towers of gold,
streets with music for cobblestones,
And banners which flew without wind.
There, He dwelled, waiting.
To see the wonders.
His children would create.
The children of the Maker gathered.
Before his golden throne.
And sang hymns of praise unending.
But their songs.
Were the songs of the cobblestones.
They shone with the golden light.
Reflected from the Maker's throne.
They held forth the banners.
That flew on their own.
And the Voice of the Maker shook the Fade.
Saying: In My image I have wrought.
My firstborn. You have been given dominion.
Over all that exists. By your will.
All things are done.
Yet you do nothing.
The realm I have given you.
Is formless, ever-changing.
And He knew he had wrought amiss.
So the Maker turned from his firstborn.
And took from the Fade.
A measure of its living flesh.
And placed it apart from the Spirits, and spoke to it, saying:
Here, I decree.
Opposition in all things:
For earth, sky.
For winter, summer.
For darkness, Light.
By My Will alone is Balance sundered.
And the world given new life.
And no longer was it formless, ever-changing,
But held fast, immutable,
With Words for heaven and for earth, sea and sky.
At last did the Maker.
From the living world.
Make men. Immutable, as the substance of the earth,
With souls made of dream and idea, hope and fear,
Endless possibilities.
Then the Maker said:
To you, my second-born, I grant this gift:
In your heart shall burn.
An unquenchable flame.
All-consuming, and never satisfied.
From the Fade I crafted you,
And to the Fade you shall return.
Each night in dreams.
That you may always remember me.
And then the Maker sealed the gates.
Of the Golden City.
And there, He dwelled, waiting.
To see the wonders.
His children would create.
Those who had been cast down,
The demons who would be gods,
Began to whisper to men from their tombs within the earth.
And the men of Tevinter heard and raised altars.
To the pretender-gods once more,
And in return were given, in hushed whispers,
The secrets of darkest magic.
And as the black clouds came upon them,
They looked on what pride had wrought,
And despaired.
No matter their power, their triumphs,
The mage-lords of Tevinter were men.
And doomed to die.
Then a voice whispered within their hearts,
Shall you surrender your power.
To time like the beasts of the fields?
You are the Lords of the earth!
Go forth to claim the empty throne.
Of Heaven and be gods.
In secret they worked.
Magic upon magic.
All their power and all their vanity.
They turned against the Veil.
Until at last, it gave way.
Edited by Raptorius on 9/8/2013 6:01 AM PDT
Blame Istvaan, this time.
I blame him every time...
Probably a good policy.
We made a nasty bet on council. Whoever took the most Kaz damage has to get beers.
Forgot the crackhead can feint and cloak and junk. I'm into him for like a 60 pack.
We made a nasty bet on council. Whoever took the most Kaz damage has to get beers.
Forgot the crackhead can feint and cloak and junk. I'm into him for like a 60 pack.
Vitaki broke WoW. I was there. I saw it happen. Nice one, Waytofail Coterie.
(( I stopped playing WoW for a bit.. You guys still around!? ))
Yeah way to go Vit! Thanks!
Did Taki break wow?
OR DID WOW BREAK TAKI.
-Mindgrenade.-
Yes yes, Reagan, still kicking. Our first Immerseus kill was thanks to Finn dropping an exploding mushroom on a white slimey.
If that ain't livin, I don't know what to tell you.
OR DID WOW BREAK TAKI.
-Mindgrenade.-
Yes yes, Reagan, still kicking. Our first Immerseus kill was thanks to Finn dropping an exploding mushroom on a white slimey.
If that ain't livin, I don't know what to tell you.
A vocabulary, god damnit, that makes my vacuous sophistry a cheap trick.
It was a team effort, and it takes more than just an explody mushroom heal on some corruptions to kill a boss.
And in all honesty, I was trying to heal the ones you were DPS-ing, so as to further speed your demise. I had the wrong ones targeted, a simple error I shan't make again.
What I wouldn't give for another crack at Dark Animus so that I can dispel death the lot of you Horde jerks.
But sure, join the team! We're super great!
And in all honesty, I was trying to heal the ones you were DPS-ing, so as to further speed your demise. I had the wrong ones targeted, a simple error I shan't make again.
What I wouldn't give for another crack at Dark Animus so that I can dispel death the lot of you Horde jerks.
But sure, join the team! We're super great!
Why don't we let -you- have the red beam? So you can Usain Bolt us all to an excruciating death?
When I put on my sunglasses and watched your frail elven flames disintegrate into wisps of red-hued smokeclouds of melted flesh and blood, victory was assured. And then when Apolex's meaty Tauren body went up next, and the smell of grilled hamburger and sizzling flanks filled the air, that was when I smiled.
Interestingly enough, though, that was the last time I had the red beam, I think. It was as if the game itself knew that it was placing a terrible power in unstable, yet decepitively fast, hands. Or legs.
Interestingly enough, though, that was the last time I had the red beam, I think. It was as if the game itself knew that it was placing a terrible power in unstable, yet decepitively fast, hands. Or legs.
I seem to like warlocks a lot. I have more than one to 90. For some odd reason I felt compelled to make a character that might fit into this guild. I have the ghost of an idea for him to be somewhat of a gambler. Tempting Fate and all that.
I can level fairly fast with a partner or two, like a healer and tank maybe? I have heirlooms. Maybe even might get my refer a friend to give me a boost now and again.
Oh this is just another alt of Jahana/Viragona/Hahnai, and too many more to list.
If I level to at least 15, can I get an invite and maybe some dungeon runs? Rp is always first in my mind.
I can level fairly fast with a partner or two, like a healer and tank maybe? I have heirlooms. Maybe even might get my refer a friend to give me a boost now and again.
Oh this is just another alt of Jahana/Viragona/Hahnai, and too many more to list.
If I level to at least 15, can I get an invite and maybe some dungeon runs? Rp is always first in my mind.
You can get an invite, free of level requirement.
BE WARNED, HOWEVER.
If your conviction is not firm, leave this sacred place at once.
BE WARNED, HOWEVER.
If your conviction is not firm, leave this sacred place at once.
Please report any Code of Conduct violations, including:
Threats of violence. We take these seriously and will alert the proper authorities.
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