World of Warcraft®

“Was he wearing a shirt?”

“Yes, Daisy, he was.”

“Oh… What about trousers, then, DreadBen? Was the man wearing trousers?”

“Indeed. And a very fine tabard with the emblem of Stormwind.”

“Oh... So... So, he wasn’t wearing his loincloth?”

“Well. Presumably he wasn’t going commando under those trousers…”

Daisy cackled while Choir’s shoulders shook from her silent laughter. The two Snipes were in Benoite Dawnsong’s bedroom. Daisy sprawled on the bed, flipping lazily through a hardcopy of The Sword of Oarwind; Choir sat at the vanity, spritzing herself with Benoite’s perfume.

“So you didn’t take a peek beneath the belt? Not once?”

“No, Daisy.”

“But you did get a picture with him? Please, please tell me you got a picture with him.”

“Oh, yes. Several. Ser Oarwind was incredibly patient. Very lovely man. The Inquisitor has them on his camera. I'm sure he'd be quite happy to show you after dinner.”

In the mirror, Choir turned her gaze to Benoite, eyes bright with her question. The barest cant of her head gave away her eagerness for an answer. Benoite smiled gently, threading another jewel into the Forsaken girl’s violet hair. The archivist blushed and shook her head.

“No, Miss Choir. He was not as handsome.”

The Royal Library presents a discussion of the pop cultural phenomena of Quillsy Inkspinner's My You're a Tall One series and the world premiere of an exclusive clip of The Sword of Oarwind: The Movie.

My You're a Tall One: Gnomish Pop Culture
5pm, Sunday, October 20th
Hall of Respite, Silvermoon

Admission is free and refreshments will be provided. Dress code is casual. For more information, please contact Archivist Benoite Dawnsong.

[ For the uninitiated: http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/8156836059 ]

Gezelda squealed with delight as she read the flyers upcoming subject. She quickly darted about the kitchen, looking for her copy of 'the Sword of Oarwind'. She eventually found it, buried under some cluttered bowls and various cooking utensils. She dusted off her favourite book and hugged it to her chest. She was -so- looking forward to this salon!

It was dark and it was wet, and it was cold. That is the way of dungeons.

Illsby Neverdare lay flat on his metal cot, adorned only by a single ragged sheet. It stank of the cell's previous occupant, of fear and despair. Illsby could smell his own.

How could things go so horribly wrong? In the haze of terror fogging the fields of his mind, he reached and reached but no insight hung low enough to be plucked. There was the after-party, cheers and drinks and girls (oh the girls!), and that was great. But there was something else. Something he had forgotten. Something DREADfully important. What was it? What was it-

There was a great crash down the pitch black hall, as a rusted iron door squealed open. Hard white light spat into the block of cells, and a figure lumbered heavily down the narrow walkway. A metal rod, surely for beatings, clinked loudly against the bars of the holding cells as the guard came nearer. Illsby shrank on his cot, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to will himself elsewhere.

Keys jangled. His cell's door groaned open.

"Less' go."

Go? Go where? What are you going to do with me?! What have I done?! When he tried to vocalize these thoughts, all that came out was a mewling whimper.

He was jerked to his feet. How he clutched that soiled sheet, his last friend in this pitiless pit!

Half-dragged, half-carried, the hall drifted by. There was another, and another, twists and turns. Young Neverdare was brought to a wooden door, his guard planting him there like some hopelessly withered weed of a man. The guard knocked twice, spat at his feet. A shutter on the door slid open, hateful eyes inspected the prisoner. It slid shut, and the door slid open. Poor Illsby shook, all over.

This new room was painfully lit, a single, ruined chair bolted in the center of a cobblestone floor. Chains and manacles hung in disorderly rows from the ceiling. A single, ominous drain occupied the center of the floor. Deep red stains snaked towards it.

Illsby Neverdare was sat, and shackled. The metal bit into his wrists. Through his tears, he realized he was then alone.

Epochs passed. He wept, and wept. How could things go so horribly, horribly wrong?

When it came, the voice startled him. He hadn't noticed when the shadow had entered the room. Those lights were searing him blind; he squinted and sniffled, and tried to listen very, very closely.

"Illsby Neverdare. Actor, twenty-five. Graduated early, attended university. Found love. And then -she- found love and you decided it was time to move on. Odd jobs, to pay the bills, mm? Found a pad in the city, got a cat. Made a nice cuppa for the right guy, and next thing you know your smile is turning up on billboards and in the pictures."

That voice was cordial, intelligent. Low and so very, very terrifying. Illsby whimpered impotently.

"You are as lucky as you are boring, Mr Neverdare." The shadow stirred. A well-dressed, leonine elf with short blonde hair stalked into the light.

"So when did you decide to traffic in drugs?"

That whimper became outright sobbing. Oh. Right. -Thats- what he forgot.

The lean elf began flipping through a folder, pacing about him like a lion before a lamb. "Dreamfoil, fifty lbs. Darkweed, twenty lbs. 'Totally Awesome Booty Bay Liquid Snake', whatever the hell that is, twelve quarts. And that's just for breakfast."

Oh no. Oh no no no no. Oh nononononononono.

"I- I demand.. demand an advocate!"

"Yes, yes, of course you do." The well-dressed elf purred, casting back his short hair with a gloved hand. "We'll get to that. I just want to know something first." He leaned in -real- close. "...off the record."

Illsby swallowed, shuddered. The shadowy interrogator swept over him again, adjusting one of the overhanging lights to shine directly in his face.

"What was it like on the set? Did you get to hold the -actual- Sword of Oarwind? Is Rionna Falsedawn really that tall in person?"

~

Later.

A black and white face-shot of Illsby Neverdawn, in full costume. Autographed in flourishing (if hasty!) script. It was accompanied on Benoite's desk by a tiny note, ripped from one of her notepads.

'Look what I did today.

Yours
-L'

Benoite Dawnsong’s office was half the size of hers. And yet, the physician breathed easier here. This fact had nothing to do with the absence of astringent fumes. The sunlight favored this space especially, shining without scorching, filling the room with gentle and brilliant light.

The girl smiled at her--and in the physicians eyes, Benoite Dawnsong was still very much a girl in spite of the intricate knot of her hair, the exact finery of her gowns, and the subtle song of her perfume hitting notes that brought war machines to their knees.

“The Sun keep you, Dr. Emberbane,” said Benoite, dipping her dark, glossy head.

Phrynia flicked her wrist, signalling the girl to sit. This was the archivist’s domain, but it was the girl’s nature to afford the physician every courtesy.

“It has been too long, Sister Dawnsong.”

“Much too long. May I pour you some tea?”

“Please.”

Everything was laid out to Phrynia’s tastes on ivory bone china, ribboned by silver detail: a platter of fruit, no biscuits, and white jasmine infused with mint. Amidst the overdue small talk, the physician worked her way through a perfect fig.

“And Bloodwing?”

“Inquisitor Bloodwing is very well, thank you. He sends his warm regards.”

“You must send him mine, as a matter of course.”

“He will be so thrilled to receive them.”

“I wonder, Sister, how you manage your duties to Bloodwing as well as the Library.”

“The Inquisitor is most gracious and encourages my independence.”

“That’s not quite true, is it.”

Benoite set her teacup down with a clink. The physician leaned back in her chair with a tilt of her chin.

“Apologies, Sister Dawnsong. I’ve come with a proposition I am only eager for you to accept.”

“I would be happy to hear it. Another fig?”

“Please.”

The physician was personally funding the construction of a desperately needed orphanage in contested territory of Pandaria. It was a high risk project, to say the least, that needed a champion--not of blades, but of unparalleled diplomacy. Phrynia had calculated the request to be urgent. No time for the girl to say lingering farewells. No time for someone to plan to follow.

The physician was counting on Benoite Dawnsong’s compassion to prevail above all else. She was not disappointed.

“Of course I’ll go," said the archivist.

Gezelda sat in her office, which was really just a desk shoved in the corner of her kitchen. She leaned back in her chair balancing her feet on the edge of the desk. This was, of course cluttered in various documents, recipe cards and letters. This morning Gezelda was trying to clear out some of her desk clutter by answering her mail. She flipped through a stack of newly arrived letters, tossing aside the junk mail, which was most of it. After carefully deposing on a long overdue sample from her meats of the month club, Gezelda found a letter with Beni's seal on it. She opened it, hoping that it wasn't from too long ago. Turns out the letter was dated for yesterday. Gezelda read it over, clicking her tongue as she did so:

Dear Miss Fizzlesprocket,

Please forgive me for the short notice and for my brevity. I’m called away to Pandaria, this time at Dr. Emberbane’s request, to aid in some much needed relief work. I’m not sure how long I’ll be away, but I leave the next salon in your capable hands.

Please pass along my sincere apologies to our friends and colleagues for my absence. The Sun keep you, dear friend. I shall write again soon.

Warmest regards,

Benoite

"Hmm, looks like Beni needs me to cover another event! Well this is the perfect time..." She said out loud in her best spooooky voice as she looked to her calendar. Of course it was time for Hallows end, how about the library throws a party!? Gezelda grinned to herself, tossing aside the rest of her boring mail and getting on her apron. There were treats that needed making!

The Royal Library presents a night of good food, and spooky sights. The (first) annual Royal Library costume party! Bring your appetite, and some spooky threads. There will be a costume contest judged by hostess, Gezelda Fizzlesprocket! Winners will receive a super special prize! (It might be cake? Oh who are we kidding!? It's gonna be cake!)

Spooks and Supper: A celebration of the creepy!
5pm realm time, Sunday October 27th
Brill, Tirisfal Glades

Admission is free, refreshment will totally be provided (that's like, half the point of these, am I right!?) Dress code is spooooky! For more information, please contact Gezelda Fizzlesprocket.

Today's the day! Everyone better get those costumes ready! A night of spooks and treats awaits!

"What day is it?"

Lala didn't bother lifting her head from the crystalline tabletop. The black box of Club Crescent was lit only by a foggy pink glow. The arcanist could only guess that dawn had cracked from the absence of a thumping beat in sync with her pulse. Around her sprawled sweat-slick bodies of her so called friends. They could barely manage to keep up with her during the night, much less the daylight hours.

Inches from her face, still caked in last night's makeup, lines of crushed sha crystal glistened in three perfect rows. Spotting these through slitted eyes, Lala lifted her head mechanically. The lines vanished with swift, practiced strokes of a rolled up banknote, her eyes brightening with each sharp inhale.

"Oh right. Friday. I need to. Do that thing."

The Royal Library presents a Tequila Tasting because reasons. Oh yeah, Day of the Dead. There. Ugh.

Tequila Tasting
5pm, Sunday, November 3rd
Hall of Respite, Silvermoon

Admission is free and refreshments will be provided. Dress code is cocktail attire. For more information, please contact Lala.

((OMG! No! YES!))

((Noooo, another one I can't make. One of these Sundays I'll be around. Stop having debauchery without meeeeee!))

((I wonder, might it be time for a Royal Library guild site? The wordpress archive is fairly passive, and most of us aren't able to contribute to it. Are we willing to think about using a platform like GuildPortal or Enjin to create something a little more interactive?

It might be nice to have an archive we can all contribute to, and a place where works in progress can be shared and "workshopped" in-character without having to get us all logged on at the same time.))

[ I love the idea of an actual archive, especially in-character workshopping. Unfortunately, I don't have time to take lead on this but would love to see what you have in mind! ]

[What might the archive contain?

Are outside, non-Library personnel welcome to participate?]

((Oh, huh, I didn't have anything unique or fancy in mind. Just the usual message board set-up with some in-character and out-of-character spaces. Most RP guilds I've been in had 'em, with varying degrees of activity. AAMS's new site has a pretty good example:

http://www.aams.enjin.com/forum

Or here's Da Doctas' site on GuildPortal, which doesn't see as much use these days but has some fantastically deep archives of old RP:

http://dadoctas.guildportal.com/Guild.aspx?GuildID=38527&TabID=341503

Something along those lines was all I had in mind. They're super easy to set up if you use a prefab site like Enjin or GP. You get banner ads and crap, of course, but they're not too terrible.))

((Hmm, this idea seems really good!))

((Despite not being online that often, I'd be happy to set us up with a GP, or enjin site. Although one idea as well, is possibly just a subreddit.

I mean, the banner would be a bit more difficult to change, but I've got some friends whom are decent enough at Graphic design and/or coding that I could get something that looks fairly nice up and running on reddit.

Plus, I find reddit to be much less bug-worthy than some of the other guild hosting sites. Bit more of a casual, welcoming feel to it as well. Just my thoughts, however.))

[ OOH!! I love love love the idea of using a subreddit! Thanks for stepping up, Squish! You, Arj, and Morg are in charge of this. I'll be there for the ribbon-cutting and take all the credit, of course. ]

((I'd never heard of Reddit being used to make guild pages.

That said, I avoid Reddit like the plague, so I don't have too much idea what you can and can't do with their setup these days. But I'd sort of intended to go on avoiding it >.>

Maybe not Reddit, please? For those of use that feel a little...uncomfortable...with the broader culture over there?))

((I agree, I am not a fan of Reddit either. I'm be more comfortable with Enjin))

[ Hmmm! Well, I'll leave it up to you three to pow wow and set up whatever your council sees fit. ]

((Well, here. I'm not familiar with the way GP or Enjin is set up. If you two really want it, I'll look in to starting one up, or you can feel free.

Anyway, here's a rough template I whipped up of a subreddit. Take a look, if it really seems out of your style, then let me know, and we can go from there.

Just remember that Moderators can control what's posted there. Just because it's a large site doesn't mean anyone needs to know about it that we don't want to.

http://www.reddit.com/r/Royal_Library/ ))