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ye-bloodeh-liar · 3 years

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I just finished AC Valhalla – A résumé.

I finished the "main story" of Assassin's Creed Valhalla. These are some thoughts of mine. (This was saved in my drafts for two weeks or so. But my stance hasn't altered. Actually, I'm even angrier now.)

Disclaimer: This obviously contains some spoilers here and there. You've been warned, but tbh, who even cares about the story at this point. Also, I know I don't have many followers, and I suspect none of the few that will come across this post will actually be interested in it. That said, if you like reading people's rants about things, regardless of your interest in video games, this might be something for you. I just needed to get this out of my system somewhere. This is a rant (well, vent? I'm venting, I guess) written as it came to my mind. There's no real structure, I think. Sorry for that in advance.

After Origins, which I thoroughly enjoyed and actually played again between Odyssey and Valhalla, and Odyssey, which's name was perfectly fitting since it felt like a fucking odyssey to grind through, I hoped, actually, I was convinced, Valhalla would right Odyssey's wrongs. You see, Odyssey had one big problem for me: It did none of the things that made and still make me love Origins. In short: The world was massive, but felt copied and pasted, uninteresting to explore and lifeless. Basically, it was a lot of green sprinkled with some olive branches. A lot of the times the only way to know roughly where I am was pulling up the map because based on my surroundings, I could've been anywhere. Compared to the intriguing world of Origins, where you always knew in which area of the map you currently were, this was a shitshow. I mean, just walking through the desert in Origins had more atmosphere than the whole city of Athens (the main fucking city) could ever muster up. (Oh, remember the times of AC Brotherhood, where Rome actually felt like a city even though it wasn't actually humongous like the new games are? Or how atmospheric the whole of AC II was? I mean, Venice? Hello? M a s t e r p i e c e) But I can overlook that. The combat didn't feel heavy, or to put it better, "impactful" like it did in Origins, but more like poking the enemies to their deaths with something that made sword-y sounds. But I can overlook that. The loot system improved a bit, in the sense of giving the option to modify your loot and being able to combine different armor pieces, however, Origins outfit-system was more up my alley. But I can overlook that. Funnily enough, compared to its predecessor, Odyssey looked worse. In Origins the fabric of your outfit look like actual fabric and, I can't stress this enough, waved in the wind. In Odyssey everything felt more static and somehow "fake". But I can overlook that. To me, Origins' story was masterfully done. Personally, I'd say, that this is the closest we've ever gotten to the Ezio-Trilogy. The voice acting was top notch. Bayek was a great character, and the side characters like Aya/Amunet were equally intriguing. I still remember the first time I saw the first confession cutscene after killing Medunamun. It gave me shivers and goosebumps and got me excited for what was about to come. What I want to say with this, is that Origins made me care; care about its characters, care about their backstory and motives, care about the world, etc. After I had finished the DLC The Hidden Ones I felt like I had actually witnessed the igniting spark of something epic, namely the Assassin Brotherhood, in such a chilling way, even though they basically were just chillin' in a cave. Because that's what character building gives you: payoffs. Well, Odyssey did none of that. All it did made me care about was to get all the loot, because that's what my mind always goes for in any game (I'm that kind of stupid ape). I didn't care about what would happen in the end – I just wanted to get there. I wanted to know how the story would end, but in whichever way it would, I knew I wouldn't care for it in the sense of being disappointed or yearning for a different outcome for the character I was so invested in, because, as I said, nothing got me invested in the character(s) in the first place. That's what bugged me the most about Odyssey. Not the flimsy feeling combat, not the husk of a world I found myself in, not the downgrade in design and animation, etc., but the lack of care it invoked.

Now, when Valhalla was originally announced, I was excited as I could be for a video game. Ubisoft was clearly aware of their mistakes with Odyssey and tried to show that they're willing to listen to their fanbase. A world where every area has its own identity? Sounds great. Heavy combat? Hell yeah. Gear and loot that actually matters and is special (unlike in Odyssey where after a few hours of playing you find yourself carrying the same fucking bow 25 times)? Oh my. Choices not for the sake of choices, but story? Yes please. I mean, if you have to implement choices. Even though choices don't really make sense in Assassin's Creed, but that's another topic.

Well, did it deliver (for me)? No. And to be completely honest, I prefer Odyssey, even as the grindfest that it is, over Valhalla, and me replaying Odyssey seems a lot more likely to me, than going through all of Valhalla again. I'm not going to list all of the points mentioned above again in full detail: The world is a bit more intriguing than Greece, but a shadow of what Egypt was. The combat feels heavy, yet every weapon looks too big (????) and it still feels a bit off. My biggest grudge of the minor points is actually the look/the graphics: How on earth does Valhalla manage to look less real than Origins? The fur and pelts on the armor, every piece of cloth, i mean just e v e r y t h i n g looks somewhat plasticy (at loss for a better word here; just compare Origins' outfits in motion to Valhalla's) Anyway, let's get to the real problem here, because all boils down to the point I've mentioned before: Invoking care.

This became very apparent to me after forging the fourth (?; was it the fourth? They all blur together. That's how e n t i c i n g they are. Great.) alliance or so. I didn't give a single fuck about the characters in those arcs. It was very clear that they'd be soon replaced by other characters in the next alliance's arc, which I probably wouldn't care for either, especially, since they all felt somewhat the same: empty. Alliances felt like checklists to do. Even Wincestre, which had an interesting beginning, somehow managed to loose all of its "darkness" after the first two quests. But I could overlook the dreary sidequest-like alliance arcs, if they served the main storyline in some way or form. Now you might ask, what main storyline? E x a c t l y. Looking back, there is none. At least not really. And there where a lot of times playing the game where I found myself wondering, if this alliance-arc-thing I was currently dragging myself through was in fact meant to be the actual story. But it shouldn't be. Was it? I have no fucking clue. My conclusion on what Valhalla's main overarching story is, is what follows:

Eivor's parents got killed when he was a child (never seen before lol), got adopted, and is now part of the Raven clan with his "brother" Sigurd//Sigurd comes home from some raid with the Assassins Basim and Hytham//(Eivor gets the Hidden Blade; I mean, this is an Assassin's Creed game. Big moment. Done in 2 seconds.)//Sigurd and Eivor aren't happy with the new King of Norway.//Sigurd and Eivor fuck off to England (with Basim and Hytham) to set camp there.//Eivor starts to forge alliances throughout England to make his clan's hold on England stronger.// Sigurd and Basim do their own thing.//Eivor meets Sigurd and Basim two or three times throughout his alliance forging.//Basim seems a bit off.//Sigurd says that he was told (by Basim?) that he is a descendant of the gods.// Sigurd wants to "pursue his destiny"// (sidenote: the last few things are all within one (!) short cutscene in a small house. d e v e l o p m e n t.)//Sigurd gets captured and tortured and loses his hand.//Eivor rescues Sigurd.// Sigurd is back in the settlement.//Sigurd distrusts Eivor because Eivor doesn't believe Sigurd and Sigurd thinks Eivor wants to take his title as the jarl (jarls are the bosses of settlements).// And then the end sequence hits. This is where I want to go into somewhat detail again. We go from Sigurd distrusts Eivor to "Eivor, I don't wanna be the boss of the town, so I don't hold a grudge anymore, let's go back to Norway and I'll show you I was right all along" like it's nothing. It's literally just that: You walk up to Sigurd, he says this (more or less) and you sail away. Again: development is taken very seriously in this game. Honestly, at this point I didn't even know that this was going to trigger the ending. My genuine thoughts were "Oh my, finally, after all this grinding, the story is going to start." when in reality of course, ironically, it was going to end. Absolute belter. So you sail to Norway with Sigurd, which takes fucking forever, because OF COURSE you have to sail (for everyone who didn't play the game, yes, sail, that means looking at a viking longship while occasionally moving the stick slightly to change its directions slightly) to your original settlement in Norway, for what feels like far too long, only to say Hi to your dad. Fucking lost it. I thought we were going to assassinate the King? Nah bruv let's just have some quick family talk instead. Some action? Nah. Just get back to the longship. A N D S T A R T S A I L I N G A G A I N. Where? Just around the curve of our settlement in Norway. Yes, they pulled the old trick of the ending is literally just right around the corner of your starting position hehe. Absolute belter. Is this to make it seem like something is about to happen? The calm before the storm? It doesn't work like that. Well, then you actually sail through a storm (lol), which doesn't matter, because Sigurd just says "Let's keep going" and, well, you keep going. Also, to this point the weather conditions have never affected neither Eivors health, nor the ship in any way whatsoever, so why should I be impacted by a storm now? Like, it's a nice thing for atmosphere, but at least make the ship harder to steer or something. Then you walk up a mountain. Funnily enough Sigurd walks in manner that shows that the walk against the storm isn't easy, whereas you, hah, you can just yeet yourself up that mountain like nothing. I could sprint up there. Fucking sprint. Anyway, Eivor and Sigurd enter the Isu temple, because of course, we had to throw an Isu temple in there, I mean, i t ' s A s s a s s i n ' s C r e e d. Was it hinted at before in the story? Not really. Were we chasing or searchig for it? Nah, better get that next alliance going. It just suddenly was. Again: development. So we walk to the main platform of the temple and activate the machine and bam we're in Valhalla (because at some point Ubisoft realised that maybe they should include what is literally in the name of the game). Again, were we looking for Valhalla? Like not in the sense that every viking was, but more in the sense

of was it the main objective of the game? Did Eivor look for a way to Valhalla? Was there anything that led us here other than Sigurd having had a few dreams (that only got mentioned, like, twice?) and being influenced into thinking he was a demigod or something? Nope, Eivor was looking for that next alliance to forge. So, Eivor realises that his experience of Valhalla is fake and he wants to get out. But fake-Odin doesn't want to let him go. In a really weird cutscene (jump to 6:30), Eivor eventually escapes Odin and enters a door with his settlement-family (look, I'm all here for metaphors, but this, this is just utter rubbish. It just doesn't make sense, and there is no payoff whatsoever). Odin actually had a build-up of some sort. In every assassination sequence he's there and talks with Eivor. I actually thought there would be some cool payoff/ending/reveal here. But nah, this ain't it chief. Yet somehow, until here, I had hope. I thought maybe now, building on all this confusion, there's gonna be a relatively good ending. Something enticing. Something that made everything somewhat worthwile. And Ubisoft went: Lol nah. So, you're out of the Isu machine again (for all the non-AC-peoples here: basically like the matrix. Eivor gets hooked up to the machine and experiences alternate reality: Valhalla), and Basim is there. What a twist. The guy that showed up like three times and went from friendly in the first time to super suspicious (like glaring-in-your-face-suspicious) in the two-or-so other major cutscenes he was in, has now been revealed as the enemy. Congrats to that. What a twist. The thing is, and this bothers me a lot actually, it could have been anyone there. It didn't need to be Basim. It wouldn't have felt out of place if it wasn't him. Why? Because Ubisoft failed terribly at making you connect to any character and at building any actual story (or character). It could have been Gunnar, the friendly black-smith in our settlement, and it would have been as fitting as Basim. Then Basim says that this is "for his son". Ah yes, the lost son of Basim, which was mentioned once. Right. Eivor defeats Basim by hooking him up on the Isu machine and gets back to the settlement with Sigurd (in my ending at least. There seems to be a possible ending in which Sigurd doesn't come back.) Cut to the modern day, where Layla now knows the coordinates of the Isu temple, goes there, hooks herself up to the machine, becomes the overseer of time with the other overseer of time which already was hanging out there (I mean yeah, great idea, terrible execution. Build it up, then you can have a payoff. This was just straight outta nowhere, and who cared about Layla anyway.) Anyway, meanwhile Basim, who was still hanging on that machine a fuck ton of years later, pops off, and is now living in the modern day. The idea here is, that we lost the hero (Layla) which caused the (just established) vilain (Basim) to do his fuckery in the modern day. But why should I care? Basim was basically nonexistent in the basically nonexistent story and suddendly I should feel sad or shocked, because he's in the modern day? Is this supposed to be intriguing? And yeah, Layla is "gone". Layla, who had no character building over three fucking games. Why should i be bothered? Why should I care about anything that just happened? Remember when a side character (Lucy) died in AC Brotherhood? That was intriguing. Why? Because they built her as a character we (Desmond) trusted, even though it was in the modern day (which no one really cares about in AC). And this is why Valhalla broke me and Odyssey didn't. Valhalla failed to make me care on a much deeper level. It's just a lot of nothingness. Empty characters in a nonexistent story. And by nonexistent, I mean non-built at all. When I play the game now, I have no actual reason, and throughout the game never actually had any actual reason, to continue. It was a chore. I didn't bother if after three hours of grind I would eventually get a mini-snippet of a husk of a story, and neither do I care now. Everything in

this game is so devoid of sparking curiosity and screams of lacklusterness to the point where I don't even know what I have actually expierenced. For fuck's sake Ubisoft, make me care again. At least once in 40 hours.

May I sum up Valhalla's "story" and content in the glorious words of Catherine Tate: Am I bovvered? The answer, sadly, is a holistic no.

#assassins creed #ac valhalla #sorry for the rant #this is my longest post yet #am i bovvered #sidenote: this is actually the first time that i'm genuinely pissed at ubisoft #i wasn't even this mad with odyssey #and that thing got a lot of hate #maybe i'm gonna delete this again

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sonofkhaz · 4 years

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The Whole Hog

A cracking sound reverberated through the sparse woodlands as a scout dressed in the blue and white livery of House Ilithia was pulled from his horse and thrown into a tree like a sack of potatoes.

Muroco looked down at the dead scout, the latter’s eyes widened in shock and terror. The tauren managed to catch the young, unshaven, inexperienced man off guard while he was trying to hunt an errant boar. He leaned down and pried the brass bugle still clutched within the elf’s fingers, gears working in his mind, then looked up and saw the boar trundling away.

He had volunteered to act as the leader of a diversion to draw away as many Ilithian soldiers as possible while his smaller, well meaning, but less physically intimidating elven colleagues in the Emberglades deliberated their next counter-offensive. Muroco had spent three days surveying the western marshes, woods, and mountains south of Kearn, anticipating where supply lines and reinforcements were coming from. It was not a difficult task, but the entire plan needed to be executed correctly, lest it have no impact.

Muroco watched the boar hobble up an incline and disappear through a treeline. He was surprised at the number of wild boars and hogs he had seen in the western Emberglades. Their population was likely a result of the difficult times brought on by the Scourge, the Burning Legion, and wars with the Alliance. While they were often docile, they could be dangerous when easily riled up.

The tauren looked back down at the bugle, and an idea formed in his head.

“In all my life, I have seen so many changes to the world and have witnessed and experienced so many different things, but I will admit that this was the first time I was ever under the leadership of a tauren. I’d not known much about them, but I always assumed that, as a collective whole, they were peaceful in nature. Little did I know that the giant of a bull I fought under came from the most violent, brutal tribe their people had ever known.

When I met him, I assumed that he was some brute, a lumbering giant who only answered problems with his fists. The type of person who would pull out a blunderbuss on a mosquito who bit him. The type of person who thought that every problem was a nail, and he was the hammer.

I was wrong in that estimate. He was...an enigma, I suppose. From his reputation, I also assumed that he would be abrasive and belligerent, and would size everyone up for a fight. He seemed to keep his emotions under rein, but you could see the ferocity in his intense, blue eyes which rarely blinked. I was glad he was on our side during the war - while seemingly phlegmatic, he had a cunning brutality and a taste for war that very few people in the world could truly obtain, let alone understand.

The ambushes he had us perform against House Ilithia are...difficult to properly describe in writing. They seemed simplistic but were complicated in execution, like the creation of a flail. During the war, House Ilithia managed to use their influence to establish a strong supply line - even if they did not have the strongest warriors of our people, they compensated with a supply of food, weaponry, soldiers and militia.

On day one, Muroco insisted that we followed three principles of war. “First, we must fight scattered. Then, we have to surround the enemy when possible. Finally, should we be hard pressed, we must retreat, only to return when the pressure has eased.”

Despite our detachment being at full strength, Muroco had ordered a number of us to go out into the woods and capture as many boars as possible. It seemed a trivial task, but he insisted he had a strategy. For the rest of us, we performed lightning-strike raids on caravans on horseback, though Muroco had had his kodo beast bloody teleported to the Emberglades by some mage friend of his.

At first, I thought he would instruct us to leave no survivors, but that was not the case. He ordered us to be indiscriminate with eliminating our own people, but wanted us to leave at least one to three survivors. The first few caravans were lightly guarded; I assume House Ilithia did not expect combatants to be so far west of the province. There were two survivors - one fled to the north, the other captured by Muroco for questioning. When the soldier refused to speak, the tauren bound him, tied him to his kodo’s tail, then rode laps around the caravan’s ruins for an hour until he finally revealed when the next caravan would come.

To my surprise, Muroco let him go. I worked up enough courage to ask him why he insisted that survivors remain. He explained that some demoralized survivors would return to their comrades and speak of the horrors, but he wanted others to speak of vengeance. It was his intent to draw as many House Ilithia combatants as possible to us, and I felt a chill run down my spine; whether it was the prospect of facing so many, or his cool assuredness that they would all perish that gave me fear, I could not say.

For the next several days, we executed the same ambushes in different areas, always moving and never staying in the same location. Each raid was more dangerous than the last, with more and more soldiers guarding each caravan. The survivors always carried wounds from broadhead arrows. He pushed us to fight...we would fight to the point of exhaustion, and we would only rest when our horses became fatigued.

He was a brutal tactician, and he drove us hard, but he was one of the most effective leaders I had ever fought under.

Eventually, Muroco pulled my cousin and me aside to speak to us about the final parts of his plan. He produced a bugle and handed it to my cousin; it was unbeknownst to me at the time, but he had instructed her to hide in the woods during every ambush and observe not only Ilithia’s marching formations, but to study and memorize the signals they used with instruments whenever they were attacked. He then turned to me and had me follow him to a makeshift pen where we had corralled the boars we had captured. At the time, there had been an infestation of boars and hogs in the province due to a high reproduction and lack of hunting to quell their numbers. They were pests but typically docile, but dangerous when angered; in fact, they looked agitated from not being fed properly.

“The biggest convoy yet will be coming through the marshes tomorrow,” Muroco said to me, “and this is what we’re going to use to put a stop to them.”

I stopped myself from knitting my eyebrows together in consternation. Boars? What, I thought, was his plan? Feed the soldiers to death?

“How so?”

In his hand he held what appeared to be some sort of gland, about as large as my fist. Its coloration was odd - brown and yellow with a few red spots. “This,” he said, “is the venom gland of a particular wind serpent from the Stonetalon Mountains. My...former tribe...considers them to be sacred animals. Watch.”

Muroco held it out in front of the pen and slightly squeezed it, and as he did I could see the boars begin to rustle and squeal, their nostrils flaring at the scent. I felt the hairs on my neck rise, as if a jolt of lightning went down my spine.

“So you’ll put them in a frenzy,” I said, to which Muroco nodded. “What do I have to do?”

“You’re going to lure them on horseback with the gland.”

“Very well, but how do I stop them from goring me?” I asked.

“They’ll be attracted to the scent, maybe the horse, but not by you,” he responded, pulling a jar of fluid from his cloak. “Apply this to your skin and clothes, and it will mask your scent.”

I felt my heart drop. I already had a feeling what it was, but I asked anyway. “What is that?”

“Kodo urine,” said Muroco.

The following evening, the final stages of his plan were set in motion. I reeked of the urine I had begrudgingly doused myself with - it had taken a week to finally get the smell out afterwards, but to the tauren’s credit the boars did not seem to notice me, only the gland I held on horseback. As instructed, I squeezed the gland as hard as I could, its venom seeping over my thick leather cavalry gloves, The pens to the gate were broken, and the boars chased after me, grunting and squealing, their eyes filled with a bestial frenzy. My poor horse ran ahead of them, galloping through the sparse woods to keep away from the drove of boars chasing after her. Up ahead, the rest of my comrades began their ambush against the convoy. The Ilithians had gotten wise of our basic stratagems, which is what Muroco intended. Their spearmen held their shields at the front while archers and arbalests attempted to fire on the moving horsemen.

What they didn’t know, however, was that the arrows we fired were wrapped in cloth soaked with wind serpent venom.

The marsh made it difficult for the Ilithians and their wagons to traverse. I feared they would realize that the stampeding boars were coming for them, but these were not the soldiers our people boasted during the zenith of our kingdom, only a patchwork of provincial soldiers with token discipline. My cousin, who had taken her place north of the convoy, used her bugle to mimic the signal of an impending attack. The Ilithians readjusted their lines to face an oncoming threat that did not exist.

Leaving their backs exposed.

I tossed the gland towards them and veered off to the right, muttering a thanks to Belore that the boars continued their path. By the time the Ilithians realized what was happening, it was too late. The boars charged into the exposed lines, goring and biting the Ilithians who reeked of venom. Their lines were disrupted, folding and snapping like a banner in a gust, and our guerillas surrounded their convoy, firing shaft after shaft into the dismayed soldiers. Their sergeants and captains tried to shout orders over the din of chaos to no avail. Muroco charged in with his kodo, smashing aside the remaining semblance of resistance, soldier and boar flying through the air as his beast flailed its horns and spiked tail in every direction.

The Ilithians were completely broken that day, and that night I ate more roast boar than I ever had in my entire life.

@retributionpriest @thepilgrimofwar

#World of Warcraft #Moon Guard #writing #Tauren #My writing #the emberglades

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evangeline-of-montfort · 4 years

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ash garden (i)

read it here on ao3

I scuff my boots against the rocky ground, bored out of my damn mind. My assignment this week must be one of the most pointless in border patrol history. This sector is of no importance whatsoever, a lonely stretch of granite and pine trees. But due to its proximity to Davidson’s estate, it has to be patrolled.

The day is overcast but chilly, and I huddle in my thin uniform. Gray clouds scud the light sky. Fall is bearing down on Montfort: according to Carmadon, we have about two weeks before the first snows hit Ascendant.

My ability forms a protective shield around me, searching for the steel of raider weapons. As usual, there is nothing. The Prairie raids have slowed since Montfort troops withdrew from the Dancing War and border security tightened. But I haven’t lived this long—twenty-five years, now—by being complacent.

The edge of the cliff looms before me: six inches of granite are all that stand between me and the hundred foot drop. I peer over the edge anyway, a cursory glance to check for raiders, who have been known to scale the cliffs. None. Obviously. I straighten up again and pace back towards the Hawkway, the road that runs from Ascendant in the mountains all the way down to the plains.

I switch on my wireless, a broadcaster that taps into the same signal as the other patrol units. “Sector E-1 is clear.”

Static. I wait for the standard response from the rest of my unit, but nothing comes.

“I repeat, Sector E-1 is clear.” My voice rings out in the silence, echoing off the mountainsides and into the wilderness.

Still nothing. I switch the wireless off and then on again. No change. The device feels the same as ever, even to my ability: all the inner workings are fine, so it isn’t a mechanical issue.

A sense of unease rises inside me. In my five years on border patrol, I’ve never lost connection like this. Something is wrong.

There’s another, smaller, wireless hanging from my belt. A direct line to Elane and the Premier’s office. She made me take it in case of an emergency. I switch it on, just in case.

Her voice comes through the other end immediately. “Eve? Is everything alright?” There are other sounds in the background: shuffling paper and people talking in lowered voices. I’m guessing she’s sitting in one of Davidson’s meetings.

“I’ve lost contact with everyone else in my unit,” I say. Even as I talk, my eyes scan back and forth along the tree line, watching for potential danger. There’s no sign of metal, no sign of movement. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t anyone waiting, just out of sight. “I’m keeping this line open just in case. Is that alright?”

“Yeah. Stay safe. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

I hook the wireless back onto my belt and continue pacing, but farther away from the ledge. If I have to fight, I’d rather not do it backed against a cliff.

A minute passes. Then five, then ten. I’m about to call it a false alarm when I hear a sound like muted thunder in the distance.

Then it draws closer, and I realize it isn’t thundering.

It’s hoofbeats.

~~~

“Love you too.”

I smile briefly at Eve’s voice on the other end before setting the device on the table. On my right, Lyrisa glances at me, a question in her eyes.

“Everything’s fine,” I say, even as worry snakes its way through my heart. “Apologies for the disruption.”

“Nothing to worry about, Elane,” Davidson says from across the table. “If you need to be excused, or anything else at all, let me know.” His expression is worried, tense. I used to think the premier was immovable, his restraint unbreakable. After five years, I know better—he can be read like anyone else, if you know him well enough.

The others—Davidson’s closest aides and various Scarlet Guard officials—shoot me worried glances. “It’s going to be okay,” I reassure them. “Really. We should continue.”

It feels like I’m lying through my teeth. My mind is consumed by Eve, my fiancée, on patrol. Sworn to protect us all, even at the cost of her own life. But I have my own job to do—our weekly intel meetings are preciously short—and I won’t let my emotions get in the way.

“Back to the situation in the Lakelands, then,” Ada Wallace says after a second. “One of their nobles made contact with the Silver Secession last week.”

She’s the only person in the room without a notebook or files of any sort—naturally, she doesn’t need them. Sometimes, I envy her ability. Paperwork is a nightmare.

“Lord Cassius Merin,” Davidson says, consulting his own papers. “What do we know about him?”

“He’s a cousin to Jidansa Merin,” Lyrisa says. “Very close to the Cygnet royal family. I believe I met him once.”

Ada frowns, and I can practically see the gears whirring in her mind. “The royal family and court are still in turmoil following Cenra’s abdication last month. If Merin contacted the Secessionists on their orders…”

I shudder. The Nortan Silver Secession are violent blood supremacists and bigots, intent on restoring Silver rule through any means possible. If the Lakelands back their play, that could be very bad for us. “An alliance between them could be strong enough to stabilize the Lakelands and threaten the Nortan States,” I say. “Especially after the Dancing War.” This has always been the endgame for them—restore the Nortan monarchy, fix the thrones that Cal and Eve broke.

“Potentially,” Ada says. “But I don’t see who they could possibly put on the throne. Maven is long dead. Cal is not a viable–”

Suddenly I feel the wireless vibrating against the table. I put it to my ear, my heart pounding like a kettle drum. “Eve? Eve, are you there?”

Her voice is nearly unintelligible, punctuated by crackling static. “There’s—trouble—raid—E1–” A high-pitched whine splits the air, and I jolt in my seat, dropping the device to the table with a clatter.

When I raise it to my ear again, there is nothing but static.

Trouble, she said. A raid.

The blood drains from my face. The room has fallen silent, every eye fixed on me. “She needs help,” I say hoarsely. “Evangeline’s in danger.”

Lyrisa grabs my arm, her grip bruising and viselike. “I’ll go help her. I can get to Sector E1 in five minutes if I take a cycle up the Hawkway.”

“You can’t–”

“Watch me. Whoever tried to hurt Evie, I’ll kick their ass–”

“No—Elane is correct. You are too valuable.” Davidson’s voice cuts through the rising clamor like a knife. “A Piedmont princess, the former betrothed of Orrian Cygnet? You cannot let yourself be captured.”

She doesn’t back down. “There’s only one cycle—we can send one person. I’m the only fighter here. It makes sense for me to go.”

“You will not be going,” the premier says. “That is final.”

I turn to him, desperate. “Evangeline needs help. She might be injured, or—” Bile rises in my throat. Eve isn’t dead. She can’t be dead. I can’t imagine a world without her in it.

“Enough,” Davidson says. His voice is deadly calm, but his eyes burn with gold fire as he stands from the table. “I will go.”

“So Lyrisa is too valuable, but the premier of this country is not?” Carmadon appears suddenly in the doorway of the library, and I wonder how long he’s been eavesdropping outside. His face is as hard as I’ve ever seen it, cut with lines of anxiety. “Dane, please—”

“I will go,” Davidson repeats firmly. “My life should hold no greater value than those of my officers. Premiers can...” He hesitates, and I can see through his composure to the person he is underneath: shaken but determined.

“They can be replaced,” he says at last.

His husband closes his eyes, as if he’s willing the words away. “No. They can’t. You can’t.”

“Every second I spend here is a second Evangeline could be in greater danger. If anything’s happened to her…” His voice darkens, and I realize Dane Davidson would be a formidable enemy on the battlefield indeed. I pity whoever tries to cross him.

“Then let me go with you,” Carmadon says suddenly. His voice is afraid, but he does not back down. “I can—”

“You can stay here, in case something happens to me,” Davidson interrupts. He steps through the doorway, and the look he exchanges with his husband is so private that I drop my gaze. “I cannot fight knowing you are in danger as well, Carm. I cannot afford distractions.”

I am suddenly reminded of Evangeline before she went to defend the walls of Corvium. She had begged me to remain safely at the Ridge House. You would only distract me, she’d said. So reluctantly, I had stayed.

She and Davidson are so similar. Destined for greatness, destined to fight a dozen wars and emerge victorious. Theirs is a flame that will never stop burning.

And Carmadon and I? We are similar as well. We tend the hearth, feed the fire, ensure the blaze doesn’t consume itself. We are content to stand in the shadow of greatness, strong enough to let our loves go again and again to the jaws of mortal danger.

Davidson presses a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “Trust that I will come home to you. But if I cannot? Have strength, my dear Carmadon. Have strength.”

The door swings shut as he leaves, and I pray that I have not sent him to his death.

~~~

tag list: @evangelineartemiasamos @fuvkingmagnus @lilyharvord @freaky-freiday @drasticsarcastic

#red queen #evangeline samos #elane haven #dane davidson #red queen fandom #evangelane #rq fandom #red queen fanfic #evangeline of montfort #ash garden

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baronvontribble · 5 years

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Classic WoW tips and tricks

There's a lot of guides popping up lately about how to make money in classic WoW. How to be good at classic WoW. How to be successful in raids or lategame content. But there's a lot of things that i haven't seen those guides mention. And more often than not, when I watch videos about big Youtubers playing Classic WoW, they're getting a lot of things wrong about how things used to work.

So this is going to be a nice, helpful list that will provide a second opinion on some of the things I've noticed Youtubers getting wrong, whether they're doing it as they play or as they make their own nice, helpful lists. Because Classic WoW matters a lot to me, and I'd like it if y'all went into it being as well-informed as possible so you don't instantly ragequit over something that someone else said was totally a feature.

1. Enough with the advice about two complementary professions on the same character. You know what there were a lot of back in the day? Farming alts. Crafting alts. You wanna min-max? Put Engineering and Enchanting on your main, have an alt that does Tailoring and Alchemy, and then another alt that does Herbalism and Mining. You'll have all the raid potions and enchants you'll need on your main - plus goblin jumper cables - and all the bags you'll ever need on all of them. And after everyone's kitted out, all you have to do is sit back and sell infinite shirts on the auction house until you frustrate everyone else into abandoning the shirt market, thus being able to set your own prices. Capitalism!

2. No, you can't switch gear in combat. Just weapons. Sorry. Yeah, I saw this one in some dude's vid and it really bugged me. So consider this one a general PSA more than anything.

3. Need money for your first mount? I know just the place. So, outside every dungeon in Classic, there were always elite critters just itching to eat you. And they had a tendency to drop more of whatever their less elite cousins dropped, while still spawning at about the same rate that other things might. As such, they were very easy to farm. Now, what do humanoids drop? Well, generally speaking it's mainly cloth and money. But since they're elite, they drop even MORE cloth and money. Pro-tip though, do this on either a warlock or a hunter so you don't spend more on repairs than you end up making. 'Cause yeah. That's a thing. Oh, and speaking of which...

4. REPAIR BILLS SUCK. Listen, Classic is going to be a very different place than modern WoW. It is basically a pre-inflation market. And early on before you've found any dungeon success, you are going to essentially be stuck in a horrific cycle of liquid assets until you manage to either find a rich guild to sponge off of, or dig yourself miraculously out of the hole. You have to pay for EVERYTHING. New skill levels, new patterns, weapon proficiencies, you name it. And you'll want to avoid those early costs associated with death as often as possible. So go ahead and roll that BM hunter farming alt first, and accept that their sad proletariat-level gear will always make them look like a clown vomited on them, because you do NOT want to be a priest main stuck in a debt-hole. Seriously, take it from someone who's been there.

5. Roll Horde, damn it. Okay, so there's actually some fun facts to back this one up. Statistically speaking, pre-Burning Crusade, the Horde had a pretty severe population problem. It was so bad that if you were Alliance and queued for a battleground at the time, you'd end up with a nightmarishly long queue time as you waited for enough Horde players to show up to match you. The Alliance also had flooded markets, horrendous lag in their cities, lame pre-60 mounts, and a black dragon in their throne room because Anduin was like 5 at the time and Varian was off being feral. If you roll Horde, you will not have to deal with these things. You will have cool technicolor undead horses and dire wolves. You will have short queue times and markets that are easy to manipulate. You will have less lag and a leader who's both debatably sensible and not 5 years old. So go Horde. Make the run to Orgrimmar and max out your rep so you can have a pupper. Embrace the short queue times. Who needs to be pretty? Not you. You'll love it, I promise.

6. You need to be okay at listening to instructions. And navigation. Back in the day, they didn't show you on the minimap where your quest was. You had to find the critters or the objects to pick up all by yourself, based on clues given to you by the text. Sometimes along the way you'd find even more quests, giving way to organically chained events and surprising little easter eggs as you went. But all this assumes that you're able to navigate based on things other than a minimap, something you might be a bit rusty with. And that's okay! It's alright to be rusty. This isn't a skill anyone's really had to use lately. Just be aware of it, alright? Don't feel bad if you need to explore a place to get your bearings. On the bright side, a lot of these classic WoW zones are actually really easy to navigate by sight alone because of how distinctive they are. No random mishmash of vivid colors and shapes here; one part of old Azeroth is not going to look like another part of old Azeroth through sheer visual clutter alone. It'll just take some getting used to, that's all. And now for a few short ones, such as...

7. Dismiss your pet before you jump down. You will wipe your entire group if you do not do this.

8. Bubble-hearthing is a thing, but Please Don't. I'm sure you think you're hilarious, but you're almost certainly the only one who thinks that.

9. Remember to keep food around for your pet if you're a hunter. This one's self-explanatory.

10. Don't kill yourself with your own spells. Remember when that was a thing? Yeah, y'all gotta actually be careful on your warlocks now. And you have to actually trade healthstones to people!

11. If you're a mage, you're gonna make bank on portals. Charge for that shit. You earned it if you've leveled high enough to make 'em.

12. Alliance players, buy every kitten you see and throw them on the neutral auction house. You will make bank doing this. If you ignored my earlier "go Horde" statement or just have an Alliance alt to see what the other side's like, then this one's directed at you. Cats on the Horde auction house are worth their weight in gold. You can set the price abusively high and we Horde players will still thank you. Because cats.

And that's the list! Hope it helps. <3

#world of warcraft #world of warcraft classic #classic wow #vanilla wow #no one cares andy

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caqi-cove · 5 years

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FFXIV OC Trial Boss Asks - Qurcaqi Himaa

The Bowl of Embers - What would be the title of your trial listed as in the duty-finder?

Ash and Snow

Thok ast Thok - Write a brief flavor-text about your trial one would find as a listed description in the duty-finder

Using the speed and mobility of her people, the Khatun of Khans has circumvented the defensive line built by the Eorzean Alliance. There is precious little time before Ishgard’s defenses are swept away, and it is put to the torch in Nhaama’s name. One hope yet remains, to cut down the leader of the horde and end Qurcaqi’s ambitions.

Cape Westwind - What is the setting of the battle? Where will it take place?

The snowy fields outside of Ishgard is where the battle for Ishgard will be decided. The horde’s mounted warriors do battle with the beleaguered Elezen knights, the fields littered with the bodies. The fires from the already destroyed settlements cast gouts of ash into the air. Even so, Nhaama’s light shines down on the Khatun - her approval is clear.

The Howling Eye - Write a description of the opening cut-scene preceding the fight

A company of knights charge towards the Khatun’s honorguard with battlecries on their lips and fury in their hearts. A white blur dashes out from the Xaelic warriors, a spear striking with terrifying speed and precision to cut the heavily armed troupe down like ripened wheat.

The moonlight shines down on the figure to cast her in a silhouette, her white horse stamping at the ground as she surveys the damage done. She spurs her horse and slowly rides towards the Warrior of Light and their cadre of companions.

Thornmarch - What would be your character’s opening dialogue(s) upon the start of the battle?

”This battle is not yours to fight. Where is the blue knight?” The Khatun demands, pulling her helm free of her head to look directly at the Warrior of Light. Her mismatched eyes flash with fury as she circles ‘round. “If he is one chosen to be their leader, he should be one to face me! Not you, not rabble gathered! This is justice, for horrible slaughter and for hubris.”

She levels the tip of her spear at the warrior of light. “Giving chance, turn away stranger. Blood is not on your hands, no side in this fight. Only those who are guilty must die.”

The Chrysalis - What would be your character’s final words upon defeat?

The khatun falls from her saddle and struggles to get up, her eyes slowly rising to the heavens. “Dayuuqi.. was.. right.” She gasps, the words hard to form. “Sarnai.. I love.. you.” The Khatun of Khans falls into the snow, ash, and blood of the battlefield, never to rise again.

(Note: Assuming in this universe that Iyrn would not fall for a more slaughter-focused and militant Qurcaqi. So she’s speaking of her lost wife.)

The Final Steps of Faith - How would some of the mechanics of the fight operate? Include as many as you want and specify whether it is for hard-mode or extreme (if applicable)

In hard mode, Qurcaqi’s primary mode of attack would be charging up her attacks much like the Magna Roader from Castrum Abania. She would ready her attacks and then launch them in wide corridors. The longer the fight went on the more rushing strikes would be added as she ping-pongs around the battlefield.

In Extreme she would toss her spear aside and pull out her greatsword instead. Now wreathed in dark aether all of her attacks are amplified and have additional effects. She would also launch an orb of dark energy to ping-pong around the battlefield alongside her, then at 50% add a second.

Urth’s Fount - Would there be any mechanics that when ignored would result in an instant wipe?

No, I’m honestly not fond of a lot of instant-death mechanics unless they make sense in the story. Arbitrarily being wiped out by a slightly stronger blast of magic feels lazy.

The Royal Menagerie - Describe your OC’s techniques or special attacks that the party will have to avoid or be cautious dealing with

Only in Extreme mode, whenever a player dies, she unleashes a blast of dark energy that hits the entire party for heavy damage. On top of her other techniques this is a fight where healers will need to stay on the ball, and players will need to be mindful of their positioning. If people are too slow or too focused on DPSing she can easily wipe up non-tanks.

The Singularity Reactor - Will your character summon adds and companions throughout the encounter, or would it be a single-target fight?

Nope! Qurcaqi would directly engage her enemies. However, there will be warriors around the ring that will damage enemies and knock them back into the ring. Though they will not be joining.

Akh Afah Amphitheater - Will your trial be a single-phase fight or will there be different segments to the encounter?

A single phase endurance fight, primarily because I can’t see Caqi willingly holding back until she is arbitrarily wounded enough. She’ll hit you with her best attacks, growing more furious and bloodthirsty as she goes.

Battle on the Big Bridge - What would the battle theme sound like? Will the music shift when the second phase of the fight begins?

Something akin to the Green Horde Rises from Dawn of War 2. A sharp rise with the sounds of morin khuur playing along with throat singing, and warcries from her people. She would be, at least in her mind, the embodiment of Nhaama’s wrath and her people’s culture.

In the end, however, she’s being little more than a murderous savage who is holding onto her fury just like the dragons. The very things her people were killed for resembling.

The Navel - How easy would it be for a DRG to fall off the edge of the stage in your trial?

A DRG or RDM would not fall off, but they’d be ping-ponged about by the warriors around the ring. In Extreme there’s a good chance they’d die and cause more damage to hit the raid. Be careful where you jump!

Castrum Fluminis - Would your OC drop any loot at the end of the fight? If so, describe them (tokens, tomes, weapons, crafting reagents, mounts, etc.)

In terms of tangible gear, mostly weapons that looks to be of steppe make. The special part would be her horse, Ganbataar. A white horse with a grey mane with Steppe barding. Extreme only, because that’s how FFXIV makes you work!

Emanation - Name someone else’s OC you would like to see as a trial boss. Be sure to tag them

Doing that at the end, you’re not my dad!

Ultima’s Bane - On a scale of 1 to 10, with ten being the most extreme, how would you rate the difficulty of your trial?

On hard I’d rate it a 4. It’s mostly a ‘Don’t stand around’ that may tax speed rezzers. Extreme I’d rate it a 6 or maybe a 7 depending. It’s similar in style but the punishment for failure means your entire trial party takes massive damage. Good job!

Tagged By: @moonstruck-ffxiv

Tagging: @rasha-tahl , @crazy-coeurl-lady , @roegadynlibrarian , @lichface

#Ask Box #Prompt #FFXIV RP #Qurcaqi Himaa #She's an easier Odin lets be real here #But hey a neat horse!

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neothebard · 5 years

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My time here is done.

Most anyone reading this that just stumbled upon it don’t know who I am, but those that do know me that got this link know me very well.

Hi, I’m known on Moon Guard as Neo Starstrider, Void Elf Hunter (High Elf Paladin in a previous life) though in the past I have gone by ‘The Doctor’ Andalian Morrison, Human Chronomancer and Illusionist best known for his time in Pyrebird Sodality. As well as Cillvia ‘The Fox’ Morrison, Human Rogue who climbed the ranks of the Melrony Crime Family to become its Underboss before stabbing Selvetore Melrony in the back (both IC and OOC, get to that in a bit.) and leaving to form her own company, Morrison Shipping and Trade, aka The Morrisons. But before that, I was simply Neo, a Human Paladin from Sargeras that raided and posted penis macros in trade chat.

Why am I writing all of this? Well, I’ve come to a turning point in my life where I have to start doing things a bit differently. And the thing I need to do different is cancel my WoW Subscription.

This is going to be a long story. So if you wish to keep reading, go ahead. If you wanna skip it and go straight to my reasoning for leaving, just go until you get to the break.

I was first introduced to WoW when I was in High School. I was having a get together at my house with some friends when one of them found my computer and began to download the game onto it. I asked him what that was and he said “This is World of Warcraft.” He let me create an Undead Warrior to play with for a bit. I enjoyed it quite a bit. But it wasn’t until that summer that I really got hooked onto that game.

Another friend of mine got me to play with him. This time I played a Night Elf Druid and boy oh boy was that a fun experience leveling. I only got him to level 12 before I stopped for a few months but it was still tons of fun! After a short break, I came back and made a Human Paladin on Sargeras known as Neotar. That same friend that was playing with me before made a Night Elf Hunter named Adremmalech and we both decided that we were going to get to max level with these characters no matter what.

We leveled and leveled and we both hit level 40 the day Burning Crusade was released. To celebrate our accomplishment, we ran our level 40 mounts all the way to the Exodar from Stormwind to check out the new Alliance city. Needless to say, it was super dope! But we weren’t done. We continued the Vanilla grind to level 60, stepped through the Dark Portal for the first time and were in absolute awe. What an experience it was to see that giant pit lord standing at the bottom of the stairs. The musical score blasting in our headphones. So much fun and great memories.

We blasted up to level 70 and soon got our first taste of gearing up to raid. I had some shortcomings being a Paladin as I didn’t want to only be a healer. Luckily, Prot was developing into something fun and challenging so I took it! Our entire time in BC was spent mostly in Karazahn, Gruul’s Lair, Mag’s Lair, and Zul’Aman. He went on to raid with a group that got into Hyjal and Black Temple on a regular basis while I stayed behind (mostly due to time restraints due to school.) But it was one of the most fun times I had playing this game.

When Wrath came out, we transferred servers to Drak’theron and met a guy that to this day is one of the nicest and kindest person I’ve ever met and am proud to call my friend (he also DM’s my weekly D&D games). We became members of his guild and went all the way to ICC 11/12 Heroic with him. A lot of accomplishments made with that guy and it was a lot of fun.

But that was the peak of my raiding experience as I stopped raiding when Cataclysm came out. I still wanted to play the game but didn’t know what else to do. So I gave RP a shot. I looked up an excellent guide on wowpedia, made a mage on Moon Guard, and went to town! I walked into the Cathedral district for the first time and was genuinely amazed by all the people there, acting out their characters.

I was hooked instantly.

I quickly leveled up this mage, known as Andalian Morrison, and joined a guild that I believe was called Kingdom of Arathor. I learned so much about Arathi Highland lore being in that guild (mostly research I had done) and decided to make my mage be from Arathi. Eventually I made him an entire family: 3 older brothers and 1 older sister. Cerious, Nethran, Cillvia, and Edrayne. I eventually made Cillvia into a rogue I had and transferred her to the server where I then was approached by Selvetore Melrony to join the Melrony Crime Family.

Crime RP was a new experience for me (much like all RP was) and I learned quick that RP Fighting was full of a lot of drama if you didn’t communicate effectively. But the stories told were fun and I had fun. Though like a lot of things, this RP came with a lot of OOC drama and for better or for worse, I let it get to me and run how my RP was. Rather than talk things out with Selvetore, I plotted with his other officers and we all left and made our own guild, The Morrisons.

I can’t say if I had just left on my own if things would be different but the whole experience taught me that talking things out with your guild mates might end in someone leaving but it’s better than essentially ruining someones day through shady means.

Running the Morrisons was challenging. We didn’t know exactly what we wanted to be. Half of us wanted to be crime RPers, the other half just wanted to be entertainers. Either way, we did our best. I ended up disbanding due to time restraints IRL but eventually I came back around on Andalian and joined up with the Pyrebird Sodality, the GM being Kenny.

Kenny was a lot of fun to be around and still is a very creative person. I learned a lot about RP from her as well (even though I had well over a couple years of experience at that point). She taught me a lot about running a guild as well. I stuck by that guild until time ran out for it and switched then to my paladin, Neo Starstrider, freshly transferred from Sargeras.

I used my raiding experience as his backstory and eventually landed on him being a devout Champion of the Argent Crusade, joining up with House Ravenshield in the process. I never let OOC dictate my actions with this character as IC was my only driving force.

Eventually Neo cut ties with the Crusade due to their inability to do anything about Sylvanas and her plague. He joined up with Elizabeth Embershield and the Embershield Protectorate and that’s pretty much where his story is concluding. He will be retiring from active service to take care of himself and his kids (if Telriah so wishes it.)

I will say this about Embershield: It is the best guild I have ever had the pleasure of being a part of.

Telriah is an amazing world builder and a great friend. I love him to death and I hope he continues to run this guild well after I leave. It’s been a pleasure to work with him in building the guild up and I loved every minute of it.

Linaly, Teanuu, Ainsling, Talen, Dubz, Keak, Garion, Nesara, Elbert, Kamarill, Trisana, Walorian and even you Moonsworn, I love you all so very much and I hope you continue to be the amazing people you are.

So if you read all of that, I congratulate you on getting this far. If you skipped to this part that’s cool too. But as I said before, my time in wow has come to an end.

My reasons for quitting are as follows:

1: WoW is just not fun for me anymore. Not even RP can keep me playing this game, sadly enough. I’ve played this game for over 13 years. I had so much fun raiding and jumping into RP. But the current iteration of this game is just not appealing to me anymore. I don’t like world quests, I don’t like the rep grinds, I don’t like the raiding or the PVP. I could go on and on with a lot of the things I don’t like (and to be honest they’re probably things you read or hear about on a daily basis) but it’s just plain and simple: Wow isn’t fun for me anymore.

2: I’m studying to become an Computer Tech and all of the things that follow that path. I am also wanting to start up my YouTube/Twitch project once more and don’t want WoW to be pulling me down.

3: In July 2017, I met the woman that I want to marry. At the time that I write this, we’ve been together for 15 months. She’s moved in with me, she’s decorated the apartment, we put up a Christmas Tree (the first one I’ve ever put up since living on my own). We have a cat, I buy her roses every chance I get, I love her family and she loves mine. It’s as simple as this: Every time I’ve had a choice between wow and spending time with her, I chose her.

Well, there’s that. I hope everyone reading this enjoyed my story and enjoyed the things I had to say. If you want to keep tabs on me, I’ll still be on Discord. My Twitter, Twitch, and YouTube Handles are SgtMajorCool. I believe they’re in my profile as well if you take a gander. But that’s that.

#world of warcraft #I quit #Moon Guard #US-MoonGuard #Embershield Protectorate #SgtMajorCool

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tylerlulz · 5 years

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I've been playing for 6 hours straight

This can't be healthy, but who cares? The vulpera are fucking adorable and I've narrowly avoided death countless times because I'm not used to having gear that isnt at least high-quality blue items. After doing just about the whole vol'dun questline, I'm only at 112. No offense to any alliance players out there but jaina needs to take like... 8 chill pills. The ones she tried to shove up my ass while escaping stormwind. I'll prolly finish the major questlines before break is over and then finish off the side quests that I overlooked later, then I'll do all the dungeons, and maybe, just maaaaybeee find a guild that will teach me how to raid.

#WoW #world of warcraft #vulpera #jaina proudmoor #vol'dun #BFA #bfa spoilers #world of warcraft bfa #wow bfa

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katieskarlette · 6 years

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Warcraft Chronicle Vol. III -- A Reaction Post

This is kind of late, but I finally was able to read Warcraft Chronicle, Volume III and wanted to share my thoughts/notes. This is mostly about the black dragonflight, but I touch on a few other topics, too.

We learn that both Onyxia and Nefarian were in Lordaeron with “Daval Prestor,” helping him manipulate the humans. It doesn’t say what name Nefarian was going by, or if his mortal guise was the same one we’re familiar with in-game.

Onyxia used her “Katrana Prestor” identity then, which raises lots of questions/issues.

In Day of the Dragon “Daval” claims to be the only living member of House Prestor. This is apparently retconned now.

What relation did “Katrana” claim to be to “Daval?” She couldn’t have been his daughter, as “Daval” was described as a young man, so he couldn’t have had a daughter “Katrana’s” age. And we know “Katrana” was an adult then because she was influential among the Lordaeron nobility, who wouldn’t have taken her seriously if she appeared to be a young girl.

Wasn’t it kind of risky to continue to use the Prestor name after “Daval” disappeared so suddenly and mysteriously? I suppose “Katrana” could have feigned total ignorance and pretended to be grieving too hard to talk about it, but if there was any suspicion about “Daval’s” motives, it would make her work harder. I guess it turned out to be a non-issue, but it strikes me as precarious.

Maintaining a mortal identity for that many years may have required her to alter her shapeshifting slightly to make “Katrana” age.

Regardless, there’s fanfic potential galore there, with Deathwing and his two most infamous children lurking around Lordaeron, getting up to mischief.

I wonder if Onyxia was sneaking off to maintain her lair in Dustwallow then, too, like she did during her time in Stormwind. It’s tough being a working mom.

This also means Varian Wrynn would have known “Katrana Prestor,” at least in passing, from his time in Lordaeron--much earlier than we thought. That may have made it easier for him to trust her.

Moving on to the Cataclysm era...

“Thousands” died in the Shattering (when Deathwing burst forth at the start of Cataclysm.)

“N’zoth stoked the fire in Deathwing’s veins, filling him with excruciating pain.” :( *puts on her fire resist gear and hugs the poor guy*

The Twilight Highlands were just called “The Highlands” before Cataclysm. I prefer my headcanon “Modan Highlands,” but okay.

It was Twilight cultists who resurrected Nefarian and Sinestra, not Deathwing directly. “The dragons retained a sliver of their former personalities, but they were now obedient servants of the Twilight’s Hammer.” *also hugs them fiercely*

After being raised as undead, Nefarian “forged a new generation of chromatic dragons.” Uh...this isn’t hinted at in game anywhere, unless you figure that Experiment 12-B was an example of this chromatic flight 2.0. (I wouldn’t know because it never drops for me despite regularly farming it for years asljk;jl;atbjatkl;jafjkl;a;jklga)

Nefarian doesn’t get an entry in the index, but Onyxia does. Harumph. There’s no Rheastrasza, either, though, so he’s in good company. :P

The book implies that Deathwing burned Stormwind to make the people so terrified that it would be easier for Benedictus to lure them into the Twilight Cult’s influence. No mention of retrieving Onyxia’s head. Okaaaaaay...

Deathwing led a force of Twilight’s Hammer cultists in “a great ritual” to summon Ragnaros to Hyjal and open a rift to the Firelands. (I guess I’ve always been too busy cringing at the green drake’s voice acting to notice the cultists there when I do the intro to Hyjal.) ;)

There were “hundreds” of Twilight dragons in Sinestra’s brood.

“Hundreds” of Twilight cultists and Twilight dragons died at Wyrmrest in the Dragon Soul raid. No word on the death tolls from the other flights.

Re: what Thrall and the Aspects did to Deathwing with the Dragon Soul: “The explosive power annihilated his tormented mind and body.” *resumes hugging him* :( Seriously, I was glad the book pointed out both Deathwing’s immense suffering, and the fact that the Old Gods were controlling him for their own purposes and would have discarded him when they had no more use for him, because that all jives with my headcanons and fanfics.

Other stuff, mostly non-dragon-related:

After Tortheldrin and Immol’thar’s deaths, the remaining highborne fled Eldre’thalas (Dire Maul) and “spent years wandering the wilds, trying to wean themselves off demonic power” to “feel whole again.”

I don’t remember if we knew this before or not, but it was the Aspects who put the vrykul into hibernation to keep them from conquering the world. (Which worked fine until the darn Lich King started waking them up.)

The Dreadlords built Icecrown Citadel. Later on the Lich King came to admire the Nerubian style and incorporated it into his ziggurats and other architecture.

The book says Arthas made landfall in Northrend in the Howling Fjord, but in-game the spot is in the Dragonblight--i.e. two zones over.

It was the Old Gods who told the naga to answer Illidan’s summons in WCIII, not Azshara directly. They wanted to stir up chaos as a distraction for Cho’Gall and the Twilight’s Hammer, who were trying to awaken C’thun. (I preferred Azshara pulling the strings and personally sending Vashj to protect her interests along the way, but okay.)

“Nearly 80%” of gnomes died in a matter of days when Thermaplugg irradiated Gnomeregan. Damn.

[Trigger warning: the next two paragraphs vaguely mention rape, or at least dubious consent.]

After over a decade of speculation about the exact nature of Dagran and Moira’s relationship, Chronicle III tells us that he did kidnap her to use for ransom (i.e. it wasn’t a case of her arranging a mock kidnapping to escape her father’s stifling influence) but he soon fell in love with her “sharp wit and strong will” and the way she wasn’t intimidated by her predicament. He related to her chafing under her father’s restrictions, because he felt the Old Gods’ influence was similarly limiting the Dark Irons’ destiny.

Apparently Moira did genuinely fall in love with him, too, (and her actions in the years since bear that out), although one cannot help but be a bit uncomfortable about how much choice she really had in the matter to begin with...

Others have already compiled lists of the new canon about which faction gets credit for which dungeon in lore, but I jotted down a few so I might as well include my notes here.

Horde got credit for Murozond, and the Alliance did the War of the Ancients dungeon to retrieve the Dragon Soul. Molten Core was considered a victory by the Hydraxian Waterlords, using mercenaries of whichever faction showed up.

Vanilla Naxxramas = Alliance

AQ20 = Horde

AQ40 / C’thun = Alliance

Vanilla Zul’Gurub = Horde

Dire Maul = Horde

Maraudon = Horde

Wailing Caverns = Horde

Sunken Temple = Alliance

#deathwing #onyxia #black dragonflight #warcraft chronicle #warcraft chronicle spoilers #Twilight dragonflight #scary old god stuff #nefarian #Moira Thaurissan #naga #and others

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swampgallows · 7 years

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gonna be honest with you though, the entire appeal of vanilla WoW was its double edge. shit took forever, things never dropped, getting anywhere was a journey, you were a couple of deaths away from being broke at all times, riding was a luxury, all of that. but i remember fondly the harshness of some zones because it made the world more real; you knew anywhere in stranglethorn was a a threat, and if you weren’t properly geared or aware, the endgame zones would tear you to pieces. empty-ass unforgiving zones like silithus were incorrigible but with it came a reality of respect.

people who played post-vanilla really only get that kind of feeling from patrol mobs like fel reavers. vanilla was just all fel reavers all the time, with some modern-day equivalents spread throughout all sorts of zones. if you’re a lowly little forsaken wandering into silverpine at, say, level 12, you could aggro a son of arugal [leve 21-ish] from halfway across the map and see this black as night “LEVEL: SKULL” beast bounding toward you from the darkness at a speed unlike anything you’ve seen yet in the game, save for a warrior’s charge. stitches in duskwood is a fair comparison, but there was only one stitches; there were at least three sons of arugal.

then you take a zone like silithus where aggroing one silithid meant you pulled ten of them, and if you didnt have some kind of AoE or a party with you or the chops to take them down, you were thoroughly fucked. so there was a special kind of reverence for those who actually COULD make it into ahn’qiraj and face off against what terrorized the majority of players. one of my earliest wow memories was when the gates of ahn’qiraj were being opened on my server: i was in the barrens, and just outside the crossroads (a dangerous, volatile contested territory) spawned a mass of aqir and anubisaths. i clicked one and saw its level was just the picture of a skull. then, seemingly out of the woodwork, a stampede of level 60s, both horde and alliance, rode up on their steeds and set to work bringing them down. i watched from quite a distance to avoid catching aggro. they were HUGE mobs, in size and strength, and some of the horde and alliance actually ended up attacking each other in the fray in addition to the mobs. it was a bloodbath. and there was a sense of admiration and prestige i felt; hell, i’m pretty sure arete’s weapon was the white Farmer’s Broom that dropped somewhere in agamand hills. i was fighting with a literal broom and wearing a “neophyte’s shirt” watching these players with glimmering swords and massive sawtooth-spiked pauldrons take down these thirty foot anubis-headed living statues that came out of nowhere.

but the double-edge, of course, is that these people had invested countless hours, more than a full-time job, into the game. i remember my sister breaking up with her boyfriend because his raiding schedule was as demanding as his extracurricular wrestling. so the sense of accomplishment and reward was arguably higher in vanilla, of course, but it demanded a truthfully unfair amount of time and dedication for what was intended to be a game, something to do in one’s “spare” time, not as an occupation.

so i certainly don’t mind the more streamlined approach to wow now, as people who dont have 50 hours a week to dedicate to wow and 39 other people to coordinate with to have a chance of having a chance at getting ONE piece of gear (you have to be able to down the boss, then the item has to drop, then you have to be among the people allowed to roll for it, then you have to win the roll) still get to see current content. but, as numerous people have said, wow’s vanilla form could only exist in that exact time period before widespread social networks or broadband internet or what have you; a game like wow’s vanilla could only exist now in terms of nostalgia. it wasnt hard for the sake of being hard, as some people think of dark souls, etc.; it was being created as it went along, roughly by trial and error, and set an example for all other MMOs at the time.

wow’s vanilla atmosphere is what got me into roleplay. i spent so many hours in stranglethorn sweating in real life over pulling a whole camp of trolls or getting ganked by the same fucking night elf over and over and over outside nesingwary’s base camp that i began to feel like i really was in that humid jungle. i looked at my character wearing all cloth and ten pieces of armor and thought, “good thing she’s dead or she’d be sweating like crazy”. that’s how i knew i really was IN this world, i was part of it now, and i aimed to immerse myself as much as possible. world of warcraft also, as it did for many others, arrived at a very troubled time in my life, and it was (as it is now) one of the very few things grounding me and keeping me going. it’s rife with problems and insensitivities and blatant, grisly growing pains but goddamn do i love this game, and as it becomes more accessible to others—in its content, its characters, its world, its subject matter—i love it even more and more.

#blathering

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vampzmagee · 4 years

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World of Warcraft 8.3 overview(outdoor)

Hello, this is a world of Warcraft 8.3 patch overview and guide for returning AFK players. Welcome back! Also welcome those new players to this magical world.

In this series of blogs I’m going to introduce what has been added in the 8.3 patch, from outdoor to dungeons to raids. But today for this single blog, I’m going to talk about outdoor only.

Warning: This blog is a little bit long, feel free to check the bold title to navigate the content you want to read!

Background: After we defeated legion in last 7.x expansion, the alliance and the horde came back to Azeroth and started wars for Azerite, a kind of mine resource with great power contained inside. By accident armies of the horde and the alliance went into domain of the Queen Azshara who surrendered to the old god N’Zoth. After a traditional procedure(find someone legendary? Put him/her into raid!) we finally facing the old god N’Zoth and its black empire Ny’alotha.

New allied races: Mechagnomes and Vulpera added as allied races in this patch, Mechagnomes will be for the alliance of course, the Vulpera will join the horde. From my point of view, the Vulpera is super cute and many horde players will transfer race of their characters to Vulpera. Also, Death knight class will be available for all races include Pandaren!

(Figure 1: Mechagnomes, Figure 2: Vulpera, Figure 3: Pandaren DK

reference: https://www.wowhead.com/guides/visions-of-nzoth-content-overview-bfa)

What’s new ourdoor: N’Zoth invaded two old maps on Azeroth, Uldum and the Vale of Eternal Blossoms with its army. Players will find races that surrendered to N’Zoth’s power. Those enemies are sorted into two types of assaults: major assaults led by minion of N’Zoth; minor assaults led by those races. Major assaults will swap on two maps weekly, if this week the major assault is on Uldum, then the next week assault will be on the Vale of Eternal Blossoms. Minor assaults follow the same rule but it will swap new races every three and a half days. Each assault will award finished players currencies.

Reputations: On the two maps, new reputation involved: Rajani Mogu, which is the army of Mogu that follows titan representative Ra-den. Uldum Accord, armies that get together to fight N’Zoth in Uldum area.

New currency and its usage: Let me introduce two new currencies in this patch. First is the coalescing visions. This is a currency that can be used to buy one single item only: vessel of horrific visions. Remember this item, it’s very important in this patch and will accompany us to the end of this patch. Second currency is corrupted memento. This is very important as well, it is always combined with the coalescing visions in game.

Gears: Now we have corruption effect on gears to replace the old titan forged system. Items in this patch no longer can be titan forged to increase item level, but we have change to gain special effects as corrupted gear. This corruption runs like affix on gear, some of them will enhance stats of the gear and some of them will give gear damage abilities based on proc. However, as what it named, corrupted gear will corrupt players. The more corrupted gears you have, the more you get corrupted. This will cause bad influence absolutely!

(Figure 1: Corrupted gear, Figure 2: Corrupted on character

reference: https://www.wowhead.com/guides/visions-of-nzoth-content-overview-bfa)

Legendary item here: Almost every patch has a legendary item, the only legendary item for 8.x expansion is here! Players are able to obtain a cloak from a questline, as we upgrade the item we will have more and more power to resist the corruption of N’Zoth. This legendary item involves an upgrade system, players can obtain items to upgrade their cloaks from horrific visions.

Horrific vision: It is like a personal instance, but players can enter the vision as a party up to 5 people. The horrific visions have map of the Orgrimmar or Stormwind City. There will be 4 targets of area and a boss(Thrall or Alleria). Each target finished will give players quest item for exchanging the item to upgrade cloak.

Technology in Horrific Vision: There is a titan technology machine to enhance players with unique abilities that can be used in the horrific vision. The resources used here will be corrupted memento I mentioned before. Each time you enter the horrific vision will consume 1 vessel of horrific visions, and this can be purchased with 10000 coalescing visions or dropped from the weekly major assaults. The more technology you have, the higher level of cloak you upgraded, the longer you can stay in the horrific vision. Of course the horrific visions will award player gears according to the progress of vision.

Above are what in outdoor have been added into the new patch, in next blog I will talk about the new game season’s dungeon change.

About author:

I’ve been playing WoW for over 5 years as a paladin. I chose paladin class because the seven knightly virtues in real world, as well as how Blizzard made spells of this class followed the virtues. I like role playing like a harbinger of justice. World of Warcraft is a truly fantastic game --- It’s a world, more than just a game.

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lucianhuntress · 7 years

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FFXV Characters playing World of Warcraft Part 1/3 Headcanons

I know I was supposed to start posting my writings next week, buuuuut.... World of Warcraft is a dear game to me even though I don’t play it anymore, still this was a blast to write! This will be posted in three parts, first one containing the chocobros! And it couldn’t have been possible without @glaive-eve‘s help! Gotta love our story brainstorming :3 Also this is my first-ever-published writing. I’m slightly nervous.

Second Part Third Part

Hopefully you enjoy <3

Noctis Lucis Caelum Havoc | Demon Hunter

Noctis enjoys double jumping, gliding and dashing.

Oh and he will dash. A lot.

He is eager about getting the best loot possible for his demon hunter. He might even be slightly aggressive over loot, shouting: “You don’t need that!”

He has min-maxed stats and his gear is perfectly enchanted and gemmed.

Noctis wants to be the loot master and probably whispers about it to Ignis at the start of every raid.

He still hasn’t made any progress towards being the loot master.

He won’t be the first in his guild to get a legendary item. Nor the second, nor the third.

Noctis will be acting salty towards those who get legendaries before him.

He still sits at the top of the damage meter — Despite the lack of legendaries.

He won’t move out of boss mechanics, unless it’s a sure oneshot. He is just tunnel visioning the damage and there is no arguing about it. He won’t take orders if they include moving around.

Because he needs to be on the top of those DPS meters. He won’t accept the second or the third place. It has to be the first.

And he will literally drain all the heals and cooldowns.

If the group he is in keeps wiping at same boss over and over again, he is ready to ragequit.

But he won’t.

Noctis really wants to unleash the hatred of ten thousand years. Illidan is so proud of him.

His favourite spot to go AFK is the Stormwind Keep, if he is playing on the Alliance and Grommash Hold, if playing on the Horde.

Makes him feel like a boss.

His fishing skill is maxed out.

And he has all sorts of cool fishing hats.

He won’t be sharing any of the fish he has caught though, and Ignis has to literally bribe him to share some of them with the guild.

Sometimes he pet battles against Prompto, if he is ultimately bored.

His in game title is Salty.

He will be playing a male night elf or a male blood elf, depending on the faction he is playing at the moment.

Prompto Argentum Beast Master | Hunter

Prompto chose his class just for the pets.

Cute pets.

He even takes S.E.L.F.I.E.s with his pets.

Prompto has his S.E.L.F.I.E. -camera bound on his keyboard.

He is the definition of a hunter, which means he spends a lot of time being dead and waiting for resurrection.

Why walk, when you can get a resurrection?

And he dies often.

Maybe because he barrage pulled the whole room?

Barrage is his thing and it’ll take a lot of persuasion skills to get him change out of it.

He is almost as greedy about loot as Noctis, but he doesn’t really care about the secondary stats.

If it has agility on it and a bigger item level than his previous one, he wants it.

Everything is hunter loot.

It annoys the shit out of Noctis, when he is trying to tell Prompto what he should be equipping.

His profession is engineering and he likes crafting all those mechanical squirrels for his own, personal amusement.

He also greatly enjoys pet battles!

And his pet battle team is well trained.

He even beats Noctis in the pet battles.

When he is playing World of Warcraft, he is barely ever AFK. Prompto will keep on jumping around the town, while waiting for something to happen.

And maybe spam the guild chat for company.

He is eagerly asking people to join him on battlegrounds, looking for raids and dungeons, when he is bored.

The guild chat will fall silent instantly.

Not that he is a bad player. He knows how to do damage.

He can be quite heavy company from time to time.

Prompto was once given a special task — Fit for a hunter. He needed to soak some damage during a boss fight.

Never again.

He likes leveling up alts, but gets tired with them easily and his character selection is full of low level characters he won’t touch again.

Maybe because someone camped him while he was leveling up.

Prompto changes his character’s hairstyle at least once a day.

His title would be the Zookeeper or the Field Photographer.

And his character would be a female. Night elf, if Alliance and blood elf, if Horde.

Gladiolus Amicitia Arms | Warrior

Gladio has an off spec for tanking, incase one tank is missing from the raid.

Tanking isn’t his favorite job to do, but he’ll do it without complaints and handles the role well.

He is usually charging right into the battle, when the pull timer is somewhere between one and zero.

Whirlwind is his thing.

He is slightly annoyed at the fact that he doesn’t really get healed.

Somehow he still survives and is usually the last man standing, if the encounter ends up being a wipefest.

And he’ll make sure everyone knows that he survived, again.

He’ll definitely twit Noctis or Prompto, if either of them died earlier during the fight.

“Noct will pay everyone’s repairs!”

Because Gladio does actually handle the game mechanics.

He’ll cheer everyone up with his motivational speeches.

“We can do this! Just 10% more!”

Occasionally he does arena, but he isn’t as passionate about it as Ardyn though they team up from time to time to get some honor points.

Gladio also loves the Brawler’s Guild.

He spends his free time there.

Or practicing his rotation on dummies while waiting for queue to pop.

Iris really hates it, when he smashes his keyboard while doing his warrior rotation. She can hear it all the way to her room.

It must be a warrior thing.

Inscription is his character’s profession and he eagerly volunteers to mill all the herbs in the guild bank for free.

He also loves crafting those Steamy Romance Novels.

He will often transmog his characters in silly non matching outfits, but he also has transmog sets if he needs to get more serious about it.

Badass warrior tiers sets look cool.

Battlelord is a cool title for him.

Gladio will be playing male dwarf, if on the Alliance side and male tauren, if on the Horde side.

Because dwarves are badass.

Ignis Scientia Subtlety | Rogue

At first, he wasn’t interested in gaming, but Noctis had him change his opinion of World of Warcraft.

He actually started playing, he began reading all the possible tips and guides online.

Now he knows everything.

Ignis could do his rotation in his sleep and he still practices it.

He was voted to be the Guild Master, when Noctis, Prompto and Gladio decided to form a guild of their own.

He secretly enjoys being the Guild Master.

He also became the raid leader due to his knowledge of raids and tactics. He knows exactly what classes to use in a boss fight and will instruct anyone if needed.

Ignis has to reassure Noctis and others that the key to beating a boss isn’t a DPS race.

He is often so immersed in his raid leading role, that he has his Cheat Death on cooldown constantly.

And he is also dead quite often.

If he happens to be the cause of a raid wipe, he’ll literally send an apology letter to everyone participating in the raid.

He is the loot master despite Noctis’s protests. He is also naturally a member of the loot council as his knowledge is invaluable.

But Ignis will gladly pass the loot for Noctis if he’s whining that he hasn’t gotten any loot again.

Ignis can often be found standing in the Auction House with a campfire placed next to him.

He knows his business and makes sure that the guild bank has enough money.

He has cooking skill maxed out.

And he is always looking out for new recipes!

Will desperately beg Noctis to share some of the fish he has caught.

He will be the one crafting all the buff foods and feasts for the raids.

Ignis loves to earn all the raid and dungeon achievements. He’ll make sure there is an event in the calendar for the guild to attempt the most hardcore ones.

So he does have all sorts of fancy titles and mounts from those achievements.

But he still uses the title he worked the hardest for: The Insane.

He also has the Loremaster, because he needed to know everything.

His characters would be a male worgen, if on the Alliance side and a male troll, if on the Horde side.

#ffxv fanfiction #ffxv imagines #ffxv headcanons #ffxv scenarios #world of warcraft #noctis lucis caelum #prompto argentum #gladiolus amicitia #ignis scientia

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rawcatlawnchair · 6 years

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Chapter 7 - Octavia

After a filling breakfast, the party set out, gear in their bags, ready to take on the world. They took the eastern road out of the city, a winding wooded path through the Walled Forest. The nearest town was a two day hike away, so their first night out of Shuxin would be spent in the wilderness. As Jirei led the party out the gates, Octavia finally got a glimpse at the country beyond the city walls. Travellers streamed in and out, guards checking their goods and belongings, men and women from all over not just the Alliance, but all over the continent.

Life in the Elven Alliance outside the cities was simple and peaceful. Ever since the Alliance Pact had been signed nearly five hundred years ago, not once had the southern nation gone to war, beyond dealing with small-time criminals and roaming bandit parties. A council made up of leaders from every region of the alliance ruled from the capital in Shurei, guiding it into a prosperous period.

Octavia, however, noticed a subtle omission. As they wandered beyond the crowds at the gates, she whispered to Jirei. “Have you noticed the lack of goblins around here?”

She nodded back. “I haven't seen one since we passed the border line.”

“Any idea why?”

“I’ve got one,” chirped Trixi. “Most goblins with any kind of ties to their homeland have headed back into the Aurum Basin. See, they're hunting for the goblin mandate.”

“Mandate?”

Trixi nodded. “The goblins declared that any man or woman who wielded the mandate would rule all goblins.” He pulled out a notebook, revealing a hastily scribbled sceptre. It was long and spiny, a large chunk of rock embedded in its tip. It looked unwieldy and awkward to use, and seemed pointless beyond a ceremonial function.

“So why didn't the old king just give it to his most worthy successor?”

“Because he had none. Half his children had effectively been exiled by the time he died, sent to rule useless pockets of land across his empire after failing their father. Instead of just handing it to some fool who would burn his empire down, his reckless, chaotic side kicked in, and he personally hid the sceptre somewhere, before taking the location to his grave.”

“A foolish move,” said Ruzuli.

“No, a risky one. Goblins are inherently chaotic and ambitious, willing to push the boundaries to achieve greatness. In his death he declared the throne open to anyone, not just his own kin, spurring a race for the sceptre. Plenty of factions have popped up, and many have crushed each other in the search of power.”

Octavia slowed down her pace, frowning. “Survival of the fittest? I wonder who will come out on top. Might even strengthen them.”

“No, it won’t,” Ruzuli shot back, pulling them into an uneasy silence, pace grinding to a halt. Octavia immediately regretted her words, recalling her knowledge of the shattered Fang Plateau. Her homeland too had been pulled into a bloody, drawn-out civil war that had spanned three generations and led to the once-united dragonflights separating for good. “They’ll tear each other apart for just a shred of power. I’ve seen what it can do to a people.” The words were almost spat out, spitefully and forcefully.

Octavia stared back at Ruzuli, not sure what to say. Did she apologise? Thankfully, Jirei saved her, speaking up and pulling them out of their stupor.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get a move on while we can.”

Jirei resumed taking the vanguard position, with Octavia near behind, and Trixi alongside Ruzuli covering the rear. As they had travelled, their stamina had slowly increased, Octavia noted. In the first week of their travels, her inexperience with hiking compounded with her injuries, leading to them having to rest frequently, and even stopping walking for the day after a mere handful of hours. Now, with some help from her own essence, she could walk for a good seven hours a day, through the morning and the afternoon with only a short break for a midday meal, without feeling too tired or worn out. Her companions had also improved, with Trixi’s complaints of exhaustion slowly decreasing and the more physically fit Ruzuli marching on strong and steady.

The group made a good pace, making it well past the halfway point to their destination by nightfall. Beside the road, a small trail led to a clearing, a perfect spot to camp overnight, with a small creek winding through it. Jirei led the way, and as they reached the mouth of the clearing, she made a sudden gasp and stopped. Octavia looked around and saw naught but her teammates, all with awestruck faces. That was when Trixi pointed a finger upwards, and so up she looked.

What filled her vision was not darkness and a moonless night sky, but rather countless fireflies, dancing and flittering about, illuminating the clearing. They moved effortlessly, rising one moment and falling the next, like miniature shooting stars that never had the patience to stay in place. Her mouth fell open but no words could come out, struck by the natural beauty of the woods.

For a minute, they stood and watched, enraptured by the grand display before them. Eventually, Octavia broke the trance they were all in, loudly thumping her bedroll on the ground. The rest quickly followed suit, setting up a fire, as well as their bedrolls. Trixi jutted a small block of earth upwards, giving him a stool to sit on as he kept watch over them. Octavia remained unconvinced of his combat prowess, but would have to trust that he could keep them safe overnight.

Lowering herself down onto the makeshift bed, Octavia yawned, tired from a long day of traveling. Almost instinctively, her eyelids began to shut, and she would not fight herself to stay awake. She would need rest to continue fighting the next day. Soon, a dreamless slumber would find her.

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The next day, progress went well. They continued a good pace, watching the unending sea of trees pass them by. From her position in the back, Octavia noticed some changes. She noticed Jirei's newfound jitters, turning behind every so often, before hurriedly turning back forward. Since they had gotten back onto the road, not a single word had been uttered by the elf.

Trixi, on the other hand, had not stopped talking since they set off. He spoke so quick that she struggled to catch every word that flew from his mouth, excitedly yammering about the ruins they would be visiting soon. Ruzuli was unfortunately trapped into a conversation with him, as they had discovered she was the only one who could tolerate his lengthy rambles.

As the gnome finally paused to take a breath, Ruzuli pinched her nose and responded. “So these ruins are within Elven territory, but the elves didn't make them?”

Trixi nodded, motioning with his hands, painting a picture in the air. “They’re goblin ruins, from the era of the Silverwing Wars.”

“This far west?”

“The goblin empire once spanned a third of the continent, you know.” Trixi flipped his notebook to show an image of a forge. “When they discovered how to make steel, they smashed apart other civilisations who had merely began to dabble in copper and bronze. They conquered as far north as the Valley of Gears, and as far west as current Shurei.”

“Then the Silverwing Wars started, am I right?” In the distance, they saw a tall wooden tower, two or three storeys high, a telltale sign of civilization.

“The bloodiest conflict in written history, and indirectly led to the downfall of both the dragons and the goblin empire.” Trixi grimly nodded as he slid his notebook back into his pack, pulling out a map in its place. “And this town is...”

“Kaijian.” Jirei spoke for the first time that morning, slowing down to keep pace with their navigator. “Kai is the Elven word for small town, with Shu being the word for city. You'll see most places have either word in their names.” Trixi rubbed his chin, absorbing this newfound information.

After another half hour of walking, they finally reached the village gates. Unlike the guards of Shuxin, no one came up to meet them at the entrance, just a pair of simple bamboo gates and it's accompanying bamboo fence. Jirei rapped her knuckles against it, making a sharp sound. After a few moments, a villager ran up to open the gates, an elf dressed in light cloth armour.

“Hello! Travellers from Shuxin?”

Jirei bowed and replied, “Yes, headed for Shuyong.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “Why are the gates barred? And since when was there this fence here?”

The villager sighed and waved them over, allowing them passage into the town. As they walked, he spoke. “Security reasons, ever since those damned goblins began roaming into the countryside. We made them as a last resort to keep them from raiding villages. Thankfully, they haven't been so brazen yet, but-” He stopped to cough, before pointing at a dilapidated caravan, with arrows sticking out of it and a charred wheel. “It’s only a matter of time before they strike at us. Now if you'll excuse me, the paperworks need my help.”

As he walked away, Jirei could only sigh. “I remember when these lands used to be safe,” she said as she gestured around her. “When the biggest worry was a bad harvest or a wild bear breaking into the town silo.” Near them, a large yard full of fibrous sheets sat in the sun, a crucial part of papermaking. A small river ran through the town, powering a water wheel, usually used to mill various plants such as sugar or beets. The town was quiet, with its people hard at work, but their presence had already earned suspicious stares from the locals. They whispered to each other, pointing fingers and gossiping. The goblin threat had gone a number on the people, not just physically, but mentally too. Here in the rural areas the paranoia was palpable, and Octavia could feel it in every villager looking at her, wondering if she was the newest threat to their livelihood.

Octavia slid next to Jirei and whispered, “I don't think they quite like us.” The dirty stares were a new experience for her, as humans were a common sight no matter where they went, and rarely felt out of place. Trixi seemed to agree with her, looking around nervously, not even bothering to take down any notes. He managed to get a few words out, saying, “I think we should get out of this place.”

Octavia was inclined to agree. They quickly moved through the small town, heading to the trading post to grab more supplies. The owner offered them to stay the night in the local tavern, but Octavia hastily declined. After quickly packing their bags, they set off, not stopping for more than a minute that they had to. As they pushed open the gates on the opposite side of town, she could feel a hundred pairs of eyes staring into the back of her skull, watching her leave. She did not dare to turn back.

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Summer was the season of hot afternoons and sweltering nights, the season of bright yellow flowers and energy, the season of the spirit of adventure. Many a poem had been written, speaking of the beauty and passion of the season, inspiring the people of the land.

Right now, summer was none of those things, with a sudden evening shower drenching the party, soaking them through their clothes. Stray sunbeams from the setting sun shone through the stormclouds above, giving Octavia a strand of false hope, tempting her with a glimpse of what could have been. Ahead of her, her teammates were faring no better, with Trixi hastily attempting to stuff his map back into his bag, sheltering their one means of navigation from the pouring rain.

Finally, they found a shady tree to hide beneath, safe from the rain. Over the relentless downpour, their voices were drowned out by the wailing of the sky. Octavia could barely hear herself think, let alone hear her companions speak. She saw the mouths move but could not make out the syllables. Eventually, she caught some stray words from Trixi’s shouting, like ‘ruin’, ‘shelter’ and ‘run’. The rest seemed to have caught the gist of his message, and buckled down for a march in the rain. Evidently they would be staying there tonight.

Serving as the rear guard once more, she took the time to reflect as they settled into a steady pace. Over the two weeks, they had grown closer as a team, yes, but Octavia still felt distant. Like an outsider. Like something that didn’t quite belong, a thorn in their side. They weren’t four adventurers, traversing the Elven countryside. They were three and she was one, they just happened to be headed in the same direction. And she didn’t know what to quite think of that.

In the White Tower, being alone was the norm. Monks and priests alike were encouraged to reflect inwards rather than outwards, relying on self and self alone. Meditation. Prayers. A thousand ways to disconnect from the outside world, to create a monolith in living form, a physical dedication to the greater good. Duty wasn't just another word, to them it represented their destiny. And before fulfilling their destiny, they first had to cut ties to everyone and everything. They came to this world with nothing, and would leave behind nothing but a legacy when they left.

That part of the philosophy had always troubled Octavia. ‘Wouldn’t we fight harder and stronger if we had something or someone to fight for?’ She had asked that many a times to her teachers, but her words had only earned scoldings for not understanding their purpose in the world. Eventually she conceded. She would stand alone, fight alone, and one day die alone, hopefully performing enough heroics to make it into a book or two.

Except she had never stopped hoping. She still yearned to have a team behind her, that sorely missed human connection. Someone to share her joys and pains with, to have her back when it was just them against the world. That could be Trixi and his boundless desire for knowledge, could be Ruzuli and her dauntless heart, could be Jirei and her worldly wisdom. She wanted this badly, maybe even more than anyone had ever wanted anything. It mattered not to her. No one could always have what they wanted.

Up ahead, a sharp yelp pricked her ears, and she snapped out of her internal monologue, ready to spring into action. In the vanguard, both Trixi and Ruzuli’s natural superior vision in the dark had served useful, and they had evidently spotted the ruins they were to reside in tonight, even amidst the low visibility of rainfall.

The ruins were in pristine condition, well, as pristine as ruins got. It looked like no one had lived here for the better part of a millennium, and nature itself had taken back part of the settlement, with trees growing through buildings and creepers slithering up the walls like snakes ascending to the sky. She struggled to see anything beyond a metre or two, but still she managed to follow her leaders into a collapsed building, getting some well earned reprieve from the rain. Almost immediately, the sound of rain became muted, muffled percussive hits on the brick roof above her. She ran a hand through her hair, squeezing whatever out whatever water she could. It flowed out onto her already-soaked clothes, not bothering her in the slightest. Around her, the rest did the same, recovering from the rain and preparing to make camp. Ruzuli had laid out some firewood and tried shooting sparks into it, but to no avail. The damp wood refused to light, and she cursed at the inanimate object in her native tongue. It must have been something particularly graphic, for Trixi’s eyebrows raised as far as they could go, being the only other one who was remotely familiar with her language. Octavia decided she would help with the light, lightly holding her fingers together and closing her eyes.

Slowly, a dirty light emanated from her body, not seeming to begin or end at any one point. She let the light warm herself first, ignoring the awestruck looks of the others. And then she thrust her hands upwards, firing the essence orb into the air. But unlike the others she had fired in the past, this one was not destructive, but rather constructive. The orb reached the ceiling, staying there, now shining a soft, but still dirty light around the room. Octavia looked upwards, rather proud of her handiwork. A surprising amount of finesse had been required to make that little trick possible, the products of weeks upon weeks of practice. It lacked the warmth of a fireplace, but the light would be sufficient for them.

“It’s no swarm of fireflies, but it’ll do.” Ruzuli gave her a wry smile. “We should get some rest, the rain did a good number on us.” “First watch?”

“I’ll take it.” Thankfully, the dragonling seemed to still be full of energy. She watched as Ruzuli pulled out a dried piece of pork and heated it above her hand. In a corner, Trixi was already asleep, weary from the long hike, slumped against a cracked pillar. Jirei was still up, having stripped down to the cloth clothes she wore underneath her now-soaked robe, dark green above and brown below. Just like a tree, Octavia mused to herself. Already feeling the lethargy hit her, she let out a loud yawn and lay down, laying beneath her essence orb, listening to the sound of falling rain and a dragonling loudly devouring her meal. It was soothing, calming, a rarity out on the road. She let her eyelids shut slowly, drifting into the abyss of her own mind.

Her rest was rudely interrupted by a huge shockwave.

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Her eyes flashed open and she looked around. She felt another wave, and another, shaking her to her core. No physical damage, no one around her even seemed to notice. Immediately, she shut her eyes once more, not to rest, but to focus. She shook off the annoying need to sleep and tried to pinpoint the source of the shockwave. Reckless essence usage, she thought, someone’s trying to find something, and I hope it’s not us. She felt two strong sources, stationary, pulsing their essence all over the place with reckless abandon. It has to be the Order of Lua’s agents. No self-respecting essence mage joined their ranks, with their brutish measures and reckless use of essence, not to mention the cult-like . She could feel one of them coming from a mile away on a good day, but perhaps she had been so absorbed in her own thoughts that she had missed their telltale signals.

Nevertheless, they had maybe minutes before they were descended upon by them. She already sensed the two sources moving towards them, and at a pace that exceeded any living being, likely on horseback. The essence orb she had made had consumed a fair amount of her own essence, and would raise suspicions, no matter how incompetent the essence mages were. She hastily informed Ruzuli, much to her surprise. But within a moment they got back to the plan. They had always known the day might come where they would be pursued. Granted, their party was not the most subtle, with the large height disparity between the elf and the gnome, not to mention Ruzuli’s eye-catching blue skin. Hence, the plan was to run like hell with their faces covered up. In the dark, their pursuers would hopefully be unable to identify them properly. She swiftly woke up both their sleeping teammates, Trixi still moving groggily, while Jirei didn’t hesitate in gearing up, throwing her robe on in a matter of seconds. When she heard that someone was coming for them, she somehow remained unfazed, merely steeling herself for whatever came for them, her face not displaying a single ounce of hesitation or surprise, as if she had expected it. From Ruzuli’s pack each of them grabbed a black cloth, wrapping it around their faces, obscuring their mouths. Octavia reached up above and swiftly pulled her hand downwards, pulling the orb back into her and plunging them back into darkness. From there, they split up, Ruzuli with Jirei and Trixi with Octavia, each pair having at least one with natural night vision. Whoever was chasing them would have to take them out separately.

Trixi and Octavia had hunkered down behind a cracked wall next to the main road of the ruins, while across the road Ruzuli and Jirei hid on a roof that was barely structurally sound. Octavia crouched and waited. In the darkness, the ones who struck first won, and she had no intention of giving up that tactical advantage.

In the distance, the thundering of hooves swept into the ruins, bouncing off every broken wall and splintered ceiling. The rain was forgotten as she zeroed in on the faint silhouettes approaching the ruins. The time for running was over. Now was the time to fight.

Next Chapter ｜Start from the beginning

Authors note: As of this chapter being published, the intro, as well as Chapters 1, 5 and 6 received updates. Story details may have changed, and hence rereading them is recommended.

#authors on tumblr #original story #my story #original content #the compass of faith #chapter 7

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