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homomenhommes · 1 month

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THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … March 14

Pi Day is a holiday held to celebrate the mathematical constant π (pi). Pi Day is observed on March 14th (3/14), due to π being roughly equal to 3.14. The Pi Minute is also sometimes celebrated on March 14 at 1:59 p.m. If π is truncated to seven decimal places, it becomes 3.1415926, making March 14 at 1:59:26 p.m. Pi Second (or sometimes March 14, 1592 at 6:53:58 a.m.).

The first Pi Day celebration was held at the San Francisco Exploratorium in 1988, with staff and public marching around one of its circular spaces, and then consuming fruit pies; the museum has since added pizza pies to its Pi Day menu. The founder of Pi Day was Larry Shaw, a now retired physicist at the Exploratorium who still helps out with the celebrations. The Massachusetts Institute of Technology often mails out its acceptance letters to be delivered to prospective students on Pi Day.

Some also celebrate Pi Approximation Day in addition to Pi Day, which can fall on any of several dates:

April 26: The Earth has traveled two radians of its orbit by this day (April 25th in leap years); thus the entire orbit divided by the distance traveled equals pi

July 22: 22/7 in the more common day/month date format, an ancient approximation of pi

November 10: The 314th day of the year (November 9 in leap years)

December 21 1:13 p.m.: The 355th day of the year (December 20 in leap years), celebrated at 1:13 for the Chinese approximation 355/113

On Pi Day, 2004, Daniel Tammet calculated and recited 22,514 decimal digits of pi.

Finally, Albert Einstein was born on Pi Day, 1879.

1864 – Alfred Redl (d.1913) was an Austrian officer who rose to head the counter-intelligence efforts of Austria-Hungary. He was one of the leading figures of pre-World War I espionage. His term in office was marked by innovation, and he used very advanced technology for the time to ensnare foreign intelligence agents. But he was also a spy for the Russians.

Alfred Redl was born in Lemberg, Galicia. His father was a railway clerk, and Alfred was the ninth child in a poor family that would grow even larger. On March 14, 1881, his seventeenth birthday, Redl joined the Austro-Hungarian Army. He was a good student and eventually won a place in the Imperial War College. Whereas others chafed under the discipline of the all-male army, Redl thrived in the homosocial environment. He made the army his true home.

On October 1, 1900, he joined the Counterintelligence Corps. He became responsible for recruiting, training, and dispatching agents for spy missions. In 1907, Redl was appointed Chief of Intelligence for the Army. During a tenure that lasted until 1912, he was known as an innovator: he was among the first to record conversations (on early wax cylinders), to use secret cameras, to adopt a systematic policy to intercept mail, to dust for fingerprints, and to "shadow" suspects. Redl also spearheaded a collaborative exchange of intelligence with Germany and trained an entire generation of Austro-Hungarian spymasters.

Redl's career had two extreme handicaps: money problems and the need to hide his sexuality. The army did not pay its officers well, but nevertheless expected them to live at a level befitting their status. Redl, as it happened, had expensive tastes in everything. His everyday financial life was killing debt.

The stress of Redl's situation was heightened because he was homosexual and had to hide that career-ending fact at all costs. One method he used to deflect suspicion of his sexual orientation during his time in Kazan was to pay court to a (supposedly) married woman. Her reluctance to commit while "married" and Redl's need for a "safe" woman made for a perfect match.

When the Russians discovered Redl was a homosexual, he became doubly vulnerable. The Russians moved in to offer a deal for money and silence. The homosexual, debt-ridden Redl was blackmailed (and bribed) into spying for Russia and betraying his country, his Army, and his Emperor.

Redl was already a veteran of a long and active sexual life when he met and fell in love with Stephan Hromodka. A handsome young cavalry officer, Hromodka had tastes and requirements as extravagant as Redl's and proved to be an expensive obsession. Although Redl and Hromodka both explained that their extravagant lifestyles were made possible by family money, Redl had to sell more and more information to the Russians to finance the arrangements.

When the couple attended public and official functions, Redl introduced Hromodka as his nephew. No one ever challenged him. If anyone had become suspicious about Redl's marital status and the constant presence of a handsome young cavalry officer who might or might not be his nephew, he could cite army regulations: officers had to obtain permission to marry, and there was a long waiting list because, at any one time, half the officers of the General Staff had to be single.

When Redl was transferred to Prague, Major Maximilian Ronge, one of his protégés, became head of counterintelligence in Vienna. Redl had trained Ronge in every technique he had developed and adopted.

Early in April 1913, Ronge received word from his counterpart in the German General Staff about a suspicious letter. Addressed to Herr Nikon Nizetas, c/o General Delivery, Vienna, the letter, unclaimed in Vienna, had been returned to Berlin and opened by the German secret police. The envelope contained the substantial sum of 6,000 crowns and the addresses of espionage centers in Paris and Geneva. The Germans suspected that they had picked up the trail of an important spy.

Ronge then ordered a stakeout at the General Delivery office in Vienna. In early May, two more letters for Herr Nikon Nizetas arrived in Vienna. Ronge's men patiently waited for the mysterious Herr Nizetas to arrive to pick up his mail.

In May Redl travelled to Vienna. He sttopped by the Post Office to pick up the mail he knew would be waiting for Herr Nikon Nizetas.

Ronge's men were able to track "Herr Nizetas" to the Hotel Klomser. Only then did they realize that Herr Nizetas was, in reality, their own Colonel Redl. In one of the classic reversals in the annals of international intrigue, Redl had been caught not only by the very men he trained but also by his own methods.

On the evening of May 24, 1913, the General Staff sent four officers to Redl's room in the Hotel Klomser. Their mission was to find out how much damage Redl had done and who assisted him. They were also instructed to ensure that he would cease to be a problem. Under questioning, Redl reportedly admitted he had spied for Russia since autumn 1912. He claimed that he had been driven to it by the costs of his lifestyle, including keeping Stefan Hromodka.

With the implicit understanding that Redl himself would take the necessary steps, the officers left a loaded Browning pistol on Redl's table and exited his hotel room. Outside on the street just after midnight, they waited until they heard the expected gunshot.

In his suicide note of May 25, 1913, Redl wrote: "Passion and levity have destroyed me. I pay with my life for my sins. Pray for me."

1941 – Today's the birthday of German director, screenwriter and producer, Wolfgang Petersen. Born in Emden, he studied theatre in Berlin and Hamburg and attended the Film and Television Academy in Berlin. His films include Das Boot (1981), The Neverending Story (1984), Enemy Mine (1985), Outbreak (1995), Air Force One (1997), The Perfect Storm, Troy, and Poseidon.

He's remained incredibly mum about his sexuality even though one of his first efforts was the 1977 Die Konsequenz, a b/w 16 mm adaptation of Alexander Ziegler's autobiographical novel of homosexual love, a movie considered "one of the best `70s gay dramas". In its time, the film was considered so radical that when first broadcast in Germany, the Bavarian network turned off the transmitters rather than broadcast it. As the 1980s began, he made the jump to action films, which occasionally featured straight heroes and a few who would ponder and dare fate itself.

His next feature was the World War II epic Das Boot, released in early 1982. The film chronicles the experiences of a German submarine crew engaged in the "Battle of the Atlantic". Though not a financial success, the film received positive reviews and was nominated for six Academy Awards, two of which (for Best Director and Best Adapted Screenplay) went to Petersen himself.

After The NeverEnding Story (1984), Petersen's first full-blown Hollywood effort (although filmed at the Bavaria Film Studios complex in Germany), he finally hit his stride in 1993 with the assassination thriller In the Line of Fire. The 1997 Petersen blockbuster, Air Force One, did very well at the box office, while getting a mix of opinions from movie critics.

If he is gay he deserves a some scorn for completely obscuring the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus in his swords and sandals epic Troy.

1956 – Sean Mathias is a British theatre director, film director, writer and actor. He was born in Swansea, south Wales. He is best known for directing the film, Bent, and for directing highly acclaimed theatre productions in London, New York, Cape Town, Los Angeles and Sydney. He has also had a notable professional and personal partnership with the actor, Sir Ian McKellen.

Mathias began his career as an actor, making his first appearance on screen in an episode of the cult BBC TV series, Survivors, in 1977 in a small role. In the same year, he played an Irish Guards lieutenant in the film, A Bridge Too Far.

In 1978, Mathias appeared in a production at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, during which time he met the actor, Ian McKellen, who subsequently became his partner of about nine years.

His acting career continued into the 1980s but his greatest achievements have come in directing and writing. Mathias's play, Cowardice, was produced at the Ambassadors Theatre in London in 1983, starring McKellen. Despite poor reviews, he was undeterred and followed it with Infidelities, A Prayer For Wings, Poor Nanny (1989), and Swansea Boys (1990). His writing also includes a novel, Manhattan Mourning, published in 1988, and the BBC TV film, The Lost Language of Cranes (1992).

In 1999, he directed a revival of Bent, the award-winning play by Martin Sherman that had opened on Broadway in 1979 starring McKellen. Performed as a benefit, this performance featured McKellen, Richard E Grant, Ian Charleson and Ralph Fiennes. After receiving critical acclaim, Mathias directed a full run in 1990 with McKellen alongside Paul Rhys and Christopher Eccleston.

Buoyed by this success, Mathias went on to direct hit shows in both London and on Broadway. Mathias directed his first Stephen Sondheim musical, A Little Night Music, at the National Theatre in 1995, with Judi Dench and Sian Phillips. He worked with Phillips again in 1997, directing her as Marlene Dietrich in Marlene.

Mathias has been based in South Africa since 1997 after visiting the country with the National Theatre in 1994 for a series of workshops. He has continued to direct occasional plays in London, the US and elsewhere.

Despite his focus on theatre direction, Mathias is also known as a film director because of his first - and currently only - feature film, Bent (1997), based on the play that propelled him to success.In 2009 Mathias directed two very different, high-profile West End smash hits: a dream cast revival of Waiting for Godot starring Sir Ian McKellen and Sir Patrick Stewart, and Breakfast at Tiffany's starring Anna Friel.

1965 – Kevin Williamson is an American screenwriter, producer, director and former actor, best known for the horror films Scream, I Know What You Did Last Summer and The Faculty, as well as the popular television series Dawson's Creek and The Vampire Diaries. Williamson's new television show, The Following premiered as a 2012-13 mid-season show on Fox.

He told Entertainment Weekly interviewer Melissa Maerz, "When I was growing up, my mom and dad took me to the Poe museum in Richmond, Virginia. It was a little house downtown, and 'The Raven' was written on the walls. You had to move from room to room to read the whole story. I thought it was the coolest thing in the world."

Inspired by the March 9, 1994, episode of the newsmagazine Turning Point on Danny Rolling, a serial killer in Gainesville, Florida, who preyed on college students, Williamson wrote a horror movie script, originally titled Scary Movie. Its characters had seen many classic horror movies (e.g. A Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween) and knew all the clichés. Miramax bought the script for $400,000 for their new Dimension Films label in the spring of 1995. Directed by Wes Craven, the film was renamed Scream, and released in The United States on December 20, 1996. It became a commercial blockbuster and critical success—ultimately drawing $173 million in ticket sales worldwide.

Paul Stupin, an executive at Columbia Tri-Star Television, read Scream after the bidding war for the script and was convinced Williamson was just the man to create a television series for his company. The result was Dawson's Creek, a semi-autobiographical tale set in a small coastal community not unlike Oriental. Williamson was the model for the title character, Dawson Leery, a hopeless romantic who is obsessed with movies—especially those of Steven Spielberg. Joey Potter, the platonic girl-next-door, was based on a real life friend of Williamson's when he was young.

Williamson has said that he knew he was gay "as far back as [he] can remember." He came out to his friends and family in 1992.

(Click for Full Monty)

1975 – Johan Paulik, born in Slovakia, Czechoslovakia as Daniel Ferencik, is a Czech pornographic film star who makes films exclusively for Bel Ami Productions. Like all stars for Bel Ami, which specializes in gay pornography, he was in his mid-twenties but he looked to be anywhere from 17-19 years old, with little to no body hair, a muscular body, a very boyish face, and a larger-than-average penis (18 cm).

Paulik's career began as a professional dancer. In 1993, he was discovered by American Bel Ami photographer George Duroy in Bratislava and photos were taken of him, which were soon followed by homosexual porn films. He got his first role in 1994 in the hardcore porno Sauna Paradiso, the second in Lukas' Story followed shortly thereafter. In 1997 the erotic illustrated book Photos of Johan was published in Germany.

In the first few years Paulik's hardcore films were not allowed to be sold or rented in Europe, but they have also been available here since 2001.

As part of the appeal of Bel Ami films, Paulik maintains his heterosexuality, proclaiming that he enjoys sex with men not because he is a homosexual, but because in Prague there is a more open-minded attitude about sexuality. It is the alleged appeal of watching "heterosexual" boys have sex with one another that has made his films (including Sauna Paradiso, his biggest seller to date) such huge successes.

He frequently co-starred with Lukas Ridgeston, with whom he is friends off camera.

He now works behind the scenes at Bel Ami as a director, editor and cameraman (through 2010). Although retired as a performer, Johan often cameos in the behind-the-scenes documentaries he films and edits. Often these are compiled for DVD release, such as in the "Johan's Journals" series.

1979 – Steven Greenstreet is an American documentary filmmaker, known for the controversial film, 8: The Mormon Proposition, which was selected to premiere at the 2010 Sundance Film Festival. Currently residing in New York City, he has also worked as a video investigative journalist for The Huffington Post Investigative Fund and a video producer for the US State Department.

The premiere of 8: The Mormon Proposition (2010) at Sundance was met with a lengthy standing ovation despite the intense controversy surrounding it. The film was inspired by ballot measures like California’s "Prop 8," designed to legally prohibit same-sex marriage. Addressing the estimated $22 million Mormons had raised along with internal church documents, the film unravels an extensive campaign carried out by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS Church) with intent to influence California’s voters.

Contrasting hard statistics with emotionally charged testimonials from gays and families, 8: The Mormon Proposition reveals the detrimental effect of the LDS church’s persistent stance on homosexuality.

The church has declined all of the filmmakers’ requests for interviews; LDS spokesman Michael Purdy has commented on the matter, “We have not seen ‘8: The Mormon Proposition.’ However, judging from the trailer and background material online, it appears that accuracy and truth are rare commodities in this film. Clearly, anyone looking for balance and thoughtful discussion of a serious topic will need to look elsewhere.”

1984 – Antoni Porowski is a Polish-Canadian television personality, actor, chef and model. He is known for his role as the food and wine expert on the Emmy award-winning Netflix series Queer Eye.

Porowski was born in Montreal, Quebec to Polish parents after they emigrated to Canada with his two older sisters. His father is a physician. He grew up speaking Polish, English, and French. He and his parents moved to Glade Springs, West Virginia when he was twelve, and he lived between there and Montreal throughout his high school years before finally returning to Montreal to attend Marianopolis College and then university. His mother and Porowski do not have a good relationship as brought out in season four of Queer Eye.Post-graduation from Concordia University with a bachelor's degree in Creative Arts, Porowski moved to New York City to study acting at the Neighborhood Playhouse School of the Theatre, from which he graduated in 2011. He taught himself to cook by referring to his grandmother's cooking techniques. He is also a close friend of the original Queer Eye’s first season cooking and sommelier Ted Allen who was a mentor.

Upon moving to New York City, Porowski began auditioning for various acting roles. He has stated that being Polish made it difficult for him to find work, which at the time made him consider anglicizing his last name. He has landed roles in movies such as Elliot Loves (2012), Daddy's Boy (2016), The Pretenders (2018), and as the lead officer in a 2014 episode of TV series The Blacklist. Porowski was also featured in the 2015 short docudrama about the Vinnytsia massacre, To My Father, as Adam Bandrowski. The short film was part of the 2016 Cannes Film Festival's Short Film Corner.

In the meantime, he worked in food service to cover his rent, first working as a busboy at a family-run Polish restaurant. He worked his way up in the restaurant industry, working as a waiter and sommelier, eventually managing a Bond Street sushi restaurant. Porowski lives in the same neighborhood as Ted Allen, the original Queer Eye food and wine expert, and current host of Food Network cooking competition Chopped. The two became friends, and for a time Porowski worked for Allen as a personal chef.

In December 2017, it was announced that Porowski would play the role of food and wine expert in the Netflix revival of Queer Eye, which aired in February 2018. The second season of the show was released in June 2018.In April 2018, Porowski signed a deal with Houghton Mifflin Harcourt for his first cookbook, released in Spring 2019. In June 2018, he announced that he would be opening The Village Den, a fast-casual restaurant in New York City's West Village. Additionally, Porowski deals vintage furniture.

Porowski states that his sexuality is "a little more fluid along the spectrum" and that he prefers not to label. He dated Joey Krietemeyer for more than seven years, but the relationship ended in October 2018. He confirmed via Instagram that December that he was dating Trace Lehnhoff. However, the two split after one year of dating. In October 2019, he confirmed via Instagram that he is dating Kevin Harrington.

Porowski and his Queer Eye costar Jonathan Van Ness trolled the internet by setting up a joint Instagram account, pretending to be a couple. Later they confirmed that there was nothing serious to it.

In the Queer Eye episode titled, "Lost Boy", Porowski revealed that he has struggled with addiction issues in the past.

1990 – The Idaho Court of Appeals finds a privacy issue in sex in enclosed restroom stalls.

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silriven · 1 year

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A bit of complaining about how Wrathion is written in the 10.1 PTR

So let's start at the beginning. I hear that's a great place to start.

Wrathion from the MMORPG World of Warcraft is a rogue (/rōɡ/):

Free from the constraints of a conscience, these mercenaries rely on brutal and efficient tactics. Lethal assassins and masters of stealth...Rogues often initiate combat with a surprise attack from the shadow. (...) Rogues must take special care when selecting targets...and they must be conscious of when to hide or flee if a battle turns against them.

- Official class guide for Rogue on the World of Warcraft website

Here are some examples of other characters from World of Warcraft who fall under the category of "rogue":

Mathias Shaw: Stormwind’s Spymaster and leader of the intelligence service, S1:7.

Vanessa VanCleef: Successor to her father, Edwin VanCleef, as head of the Defias Brotherhood and member of the Uncrowned.

Valeera Sanguinar: Advisor and bodyguard to the House of Wrynn, Shadow of the Uncrowned.

Lilian Voss: A Champion of the Uncrowned and member of the Forsaken’s Desolate Council. She is perhaps best known for assassinating prominent members of the Scarlet Crusade, including her own father.

You might recognize these characters as ruthless tacticians who employ subterfuge to accomplish their goals, noble or otherwise, and to protect the things that matter to them.

Wrathion himself has done this, many times in the past, to varying degrees of success. He even has his own network of loyal spies and bodyguards who he will often send into areas of interest to collect information that helps him formulate his strategies and schemes. So how does Wrathion, a character who has spent just about his entire life working the long game from the shadows, decide to approach dangerous situations in Dragonflight.

(Text screenshots are taken from Portergauge’s two-part walkthrough of the 10.1 PTR campaign, which you can read here and here. His follow up thread on the campaign is here.)

Sabellian says: Whelp! Stop your showboating! Fall in line and listen to my strategy!

Wrathion says: Your endless whining about a strategy will not win you the throne!

"Strategies are slowing us down. I especially don't need to have one in order to pursue this contested position as leader to a flight of wary dragons during this fragile period of growth in our tumultuous history."

Alexstrasza the Life-Binder says: Do not underestimate the Incarnates. Fair skies and strong winds to you all.

Ebyssian says: I must recruit Emberthal to our quest. Wait for me at the entrance.

Wrathion says: Why? Surely we four are more than enough.

"Why bother recruiting a useful ally. Its not like that's ever helped me in the past. Three dragons and a mortal should be '''more than enough''' to take on another Primal Incarnate when I know from first-hand experience that I alone was catastrophically outmatched against the first one."

Sabellian: I will not tolerate Ebyssian’s dawdling any longer. These incarnates grow stronger every second, as does my impatience. Wrathion and I are in agreement. You may choose to waste your time in wait for our slow-winged sibling, but we would much rather you join us.

"I will proceed with this mission without the older brother that I actually trust and am fond of in favor of the one I have a strained and tenuous relationship with and whose approach to strategy I often find ridiculous."

Sabellian says: Keep low. We have not been spotted--

Wrathion says: I usually prefer the stealthy approach as well, but now is the time to let dragons be dragons! Remind these weaklings who they are dealing with!”

"I usually prefer the stealthy approach as well...BUT...."

It's honestly worse that they even bring this up because it means someone, somewhere, remembered that it's out of character for Wrathion to act this way and they went ahead with it anyways, for little reason.

Also, where is all of this bravado about the innate strength of dragons coming from. Wrathion will fall back on that as an intimidation tactic now and then ("You do realize I am a dragon, yes? That I can breathe fire? Just making sure.") but he isn't one to flippantly overestimate his strengths and ignore his weaknesses when assessing danger. His existence as a dragon has always been fragile. That's why he has bodyguards. That's why he works closely with mortals. That's why he'll seek council from characters like Medivh. That's why he didn't try to fight the Burning Legion with just himself and maybe three other guys. That's why he didn't charge headfirst into Ny'alotha on his own and spent the entire patch training the Horde and the Alliance on how to battle the Void.

Sabellian says: Father!--Wait...Father. Yes. I knew that relic back there looked familiar.

Wrathion says: Are you walking away from me? Two can play at that game! If you need me, <player>, seek me over there.

"You're not walking away from me. I'M walking away from YOU!"

What even is this dialogue. One of the reasons why the Sabellian vs Wrathion thing is so grating is that it's not even clever banter that they're exchanging.

Wrathion says: Before we start...I know my relationship with Sabellian is certainly strained, but our behavior back there was out of line. I think it is this place. Something out there is testing my mental defenses. Worming its way through my mind and keeping my teeth on edge. I will speak to Sabellian about the outburst in my own time. Things are never simple with him. You both have my apologies.

So something that Portergauge covered in his recap thread about this patch that I agree with is that WoW, the game, does not do subtlety well. Putting aside whether or not Wrathion can be influenced by the old gods' whispers, this concept is never conveyed well.

WoW has tried a couple of times lately to use magical reasoning to explain or excuse a character's behavior and the way its handled is so unsatisfying because it's often muddled with other emotional reasons why a character might be acting that way.

So is Wrathion behaving brashly because he's being influenced by the old gods' whispers or is is it because he's under a lot of pressure and Sabellian has thrown him off balance and it's making him get sloppy? Or is it both, because it’s not like he acts any smarter or kinder when he’s in an area where the whispers aren’t so strong.

And where is this all going, what is the plan here? Is this just how Wrathion is going to be written from now on? Is he starting down a dark road that will lead to his own demise or is he going to make a come back? Following through on in-game plot threads is also something that WoW, the game, has a track record of leaving hanging at the end of a patch or an expansion (the night elves' narrative in BfA comes to mind, Sylvanas' loyalist campaign is another) so it's hard for me to be optimistic that this is leading somewhere or will have a satisfying conclusion for him.

And I have to mention that the LAST time WoW tried doing something subtle where specifically old god corruption caused someone to act out of character, that wasn't the audience's takeaway. It was: "Hell yeah, Anduin's manning up! He is Varian's son after all!"

This time it'll be: "Wrathion's an idiot and an inconsiderate asshole."

There isn't enough of Wrathion acting as his cunning, competent self in this patch to counterbalance all of the times when he's acting thoughtlessly, rude, stubborn, and self-centered. They take the time to find this balance with Sabellian. They do not with Wrathion.

I've been trying to keep my expectations reasonable (i.e. low), but when I first heard about the 10.0 storyline to pick an Aspect of the black dragonflight, I really did not expect it to turn into this extended exercise in not only why Wrathion would be a terrible Aspect but also why he's actually kind of a terrible and annoying individual, too. It's not enjoyable seeing him reduced to being just this foil for why Sabellian and Ebyssian would make better leaders.

Wrathion says: He defeated us as if we were nothing.

Sabellian says: He is surprisingly stealthy. I am sure we can devise an effective strategy if we are not distracted by...

Ebyssian says: The whispers...

Sabellian says: Yes. They distracted us at key moments. They are quieter when I use my visage.

And for all the talk of old god whispers, it's never brought up that this subject is Wrathion's bread and butter. He spent Legion researching how to suppress them, to the success of devising methods that would shield Ebyssian and the Horde/Alliance champions from them.

Ebyssian himself doesn't think to bring this up. He never once goes: "Hey, Sabellian, have you tried this neat potion of Wrathion's that will quiet those whispers? It's the only reason why I can even leave the protection of Highmountain in the first place."

Or: "Hmm, Wrathion, your potion doesn't seem to be working as well down here. Maybe that means something." As a bonus, this would also offer Wrathion an opportunity to show concern for Ebyssian's well-being and/or Sabellian’s or something. I don’t know. There's any number of ways this could've been brought up.

Ebyssian: Our assault will not be successful without the stealth and cunning of Wrathion and his Blacktalon agents. We must convince him to help us. Thankfully, I know in his heart he will not deny someone in need--especially if they flatter him.

This is just kind of horrible coming from Ebyssian, of ALL CHAR--

EBYSSIAN.

REMEMBER WHEN WRATHION SPENT *YEARS* PROTECTING AND WATCHING OUT FOR YOU FROM AFAR WITHOUT HAVING MET YOU *ONCE* FOR NO REASON OTHER THAN YOU ARE HIS BROTHER???

Besides when has anyone in the history of Warcraft *flattered* Wrathion for his help. He is almost universally loathed and has always taken action for the good of Azeroth IN SPITE OF THIS. (Please post here if you can remember a time. I would genuinely love to know.)

Wrathion and Sabellian are still arguing about who deserves to become the aspect and continue their father’s legacy. Ebyssian scolds them for acting like whelps over a legacy of fear, control, and lies rather than starting a new legacy, one that benefits the dragons in their flight rather than empowers themselves. Ebyssian and Emberthal then walk away, leaving Wrathion and Sabellian confused and thinking.

I get that this is placeholder text but in the midst of all of this, this in particular is just...disappointing. Wrathion's entire shtick, the core of his character, is supposed to be about forging a new legacy for his dragonflight outside the shadow cast by Deathwing.

Of course legacy is something that Sabellian and Ebyssian have to contend with too but that it's coming at the expense of Wrathion's character arc, in this way, as something he needs to learn...again...is a big let down.

I don't know how to wrap this up. I guess sorry I got a bit sarcastic in places and that this was very ranty and not very constructive. I had a lot of thoughts about the 10.1 PTR and I just wanted to get them all out in one place and off my chest.

In conclusion: Wrathion is a divisive character in the fanbase and I was kind of looking forward to seeing him shine in Dragonflight. So far he's doing the opposite. If this is just temporary then I don’t see a light at the end of this tunnel, either, this might be the only big patch where the black dragonflight gets center focus. I’d still say that I enjoyed the short story but I don't really see what I originally liked about this character in the game itself.

#dragonflight spoilers #dragonflight ptr spoilers #silriven: ruminations

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gerec · 2 years

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Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con

Category: M/M

Fandoms: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types

Relationships: Sebastian Shaw/Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier

Characters: Charles Xavier, Sebastian Shaw, Ororo Munroe, Azazel (X-Men), Raven | Mystique, Emma Frost, Erik Lehnsherr, Nathaniel Essex, Victor Creed, Moira MacTaggert

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Humiliation, Alpha Shaw, Alpha Erik, Omega Charles, Rough Sex, Forced Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Threats of Violence, Knotting, Come Inflation, Forced Orgasm, Double Penetration, Non-Consensual Spanking, Age Difference, Captivity, Chains, Verbal Humiliation, Public Sex, Forced Bonding, Forced Marriage, Blackmail, Oral Sex

Summary:

Sebastian Shaw attacks the kingdom of Genosha while its monarch Erik Lehnsherr is away at war, capturing omega Consort Charles Xavier as he flees with his subjects towards Westchester.

Shaw is determined to right a perceived wrong by taking an unwilling Charles as his mate.

Updated: Chapter 15 - Misgivings

Charles is reunited with his spymaster, then has a proper reunion with his mate.

#gerec writes #cherik #shaw/charles #your rightful place #chapter 15 #historical fantasy au #mind the tags

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boilingheart · 1 year

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best thing about mathias shaw is that there's just no sex appeal. zero. none. nada. this guy's got no rizz or whatever they're calling it these days. nothing. yeah he's like well built he's a master spy and one of the top rogues for sure, he's uptight and got that van dyke mustache and wears a corset 24/7 but he's just so fucking stick in the mud boring he's a vibe killer being around him is rancid he's so uptight and to the book you can't stand him. he curls his fuckin mustache he smiles at nothing. in theory he is hot as hell. catboy type of modern middle aged man babygirl. my girlfriend in theory. right. but he's so comically unfuckable. old white guy child soldier who's never fucking smiled in his life until flynn fairwind showed up. shout out to flynn fairwind, who is overflowing with raw sex appeal and charm and charisma, who took one look at this boring unsalted alliance spymaster who curls his mustache and hides his personality behind 37 reinforced walls, said "i can fix him" and then he DID. it's so funny to me. i'm correct about everything btw.

#bheart talks #sorry guys i'm coming back to wow and like every old wow hyperfixation is slowly rising from the dirt and reanimating #also i say all of this with love i love mathias shaw so dearly #if y'all remember he was my blorbo for the entirety of 2020 and i am background obsessed with him #but like. for me personally unlike with all the other blorbos of mine where i'm l #i'm like ''hey babygirl'' and i sit here and objectify my collection of middle aged grizzled jaded men. mathias shaw just. does NOT fit #he is simply NOT in this category and that is SO FUNNY TO MEEEE #in theory and on paper he could be absolutely yes he hits all the boxes yet in execution? negative points in sex appeal #and flynn is smitten and in love with him they are madly in love with each other #mathias shaw you are so boring /affectionate #my dearest fucked up ginger whose background is mostly duct taped cardboard cutouts and my personal hcs and imagination for the rest #mathias shaw

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legendaryevokercupcake · 1 year

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Why do I only ship things that end in tragedy :(

Like, Vanshaw (Shaw/Edwin Vancleef), Maltherion (Malygos/Neltharion), Blightrunner (Nathanos/Sylvanas), Thornlexton (Lieutenant Thorn/Baros Alexston)

Why can't I have a healthy, normal ship.

#Vanshaw #Mathias Shaw #Spymaster Shaw #Edwin Vancleef #Defias Brotherhood #Malygos #Neltharion #Deathwing #Blightrunner #Nathanos Marris #Nathanos #Sylvanas #Sylvanas Windrunner #At least I have Fairshaw

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the-unseen-servant · 9 months

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Call of the Void (Part 3 of 3)

This is part 3 of 3. You can find part 1 here. You can also read this post on my website here.

Recreation of elven painter Alois Vidius' "Unnamed", by Ezra Shaw, half-elven painter. (Image is AI Generated)

---

She thinks she was too hard on him. Another month had passed before Cillian returned. It was the new year, and when Belle saw him, he just looked tired.

"I returned the damn painting," he had said, softly, and then he left.

He hadn't come down to Artefact Storage the day after, and he had barely responded on the many times after when she came to knock on his door.

It had been like that for three days.

Now, Belle is sitting in her office with Marlin, the Academy Spymaster.

"So, you're telling me that you sent him off, on a four week trip to Reseggia, to return this painting?"

She sighs, guiltily. "Yes."

"And now, after he came back, he suddenly won't even show up to class. Completely retreated from his studies."

"I've tried talking to him, I really have, but I don't know why he's acting like this any more than you do. I'm sorry, I really am, but I genuinely don't know what you're wanting me to do here, Marlin."

"Well, perhaps, before you sent my student off on a potentially dangerous mission, you should've at least consulted me? or Jan? You say you were worried about this going public? Half of my whole job is to make sure this sort of stuff doesn't. And even then, if you were certain we had to return the painting, you could've asked me to send someone more capable to do it instead of... instead of sending my pupil off blindly!"

"I... I'm sorry," she said. "I realise I should've handled it better, I'll admit that. But what are we able to do about it now?"

He glances away for a moment. "Cillian always was hanging out with you. If something went wrong, it's your responsibility to make sure he's okay."

"Well, clearly something went wrong, but he doesn't seem to want to talk about it." She sighs. She really was worried about him. "I think... I think that, whatever happened, Cillian wants to be left alone right now. And if that's what he wants, then I'll leave him be."

There is silence for a moment. Marlin speaks. "Talk to him."

"Just, give him time, Marlin."

---

8 Gynae 2030

Dr. Hart,

I am writing you concerning the offer I previously made you regarding the sale of what I believed to be one of Vidius' lost paintings. I am afraid I will have to rescind this offer. It is dreadful news.

In the period since I wrote that letter, I have oft been occupied with the handling of affairs in Milfordshire, and have been away from my manor in Silomouth. With a retrospective eye, I wish I had never left, as, upon my return, I found a terrible sight in my living room. The painting lay on the floor, torn to pieces.

It really is such a shame for such an artefact to have been destroyed so ruefully, and it truly was such a valuable piece. I will be looking into finding the culprit of this act, and I assure you I will be doing so with the utmost effort.

With deepest apologies,

Mr. Pedigree Shrew Chief Barrister of Standard Holdings, LLC. 36 Whitbury Park Silomouth, Reseggia

---

Belle hart knocks on the door.

"Hello, Cillian?" she says, nervously.

There is no reply.

"I'm sorry for being so hard on you. It- It wasn't fair of me."

There is silence for a moment, and then she knocks on the door again. This time, it slowly rolls open.

Cillian's dorm room was small, and it was dark. Despite the fact it was two in the afternoon, he had the window blinds folded up. At the moment he was sitting on his bed, with his knees up, looking at the floor.

She closes the door gently as she can, and sits down beside him.

"I got a letter this morning. From Shrew."

He doesn't look up. "Did you?"

It wasn't really a question.

"Is it alright if I ask what happened?"

"I... I don't know how to explain what happened. You won't believe me. You won't understand."

"I'll try to."

He looks up at her, and she feels as though she sees distain in his eyes for a moment. She feels terrible.

He begins, anyways.

---

"I... I didn't realise immediately, but the morning I arrived in Silomouth was New Year's Eve. I got in the same way I did the first time. But this time, of course, I was carrying the painting. I remember, I was holding either edge of the frame." He raises his hands and mimes it out. "But I never touched the actual painting. Not in my whole trip here and back had I ever touched the painting.

"It felt darker then last time in that room. There was still nobody home. I set my candle on the table and looked up at that blank spot on the wall above the mantle where the painting had been. I remember climbing that mantle, holding the... holding the painting in front of me. At some point I had to twist around so I was facing away from the wall. And that's when I slipped. I placed my foot wrong somewhere, I think, and I suddenly lost my balance. I instinctually tried to catch myself on the painting below me, and in doing so, I went to place my hand on the actual canvas. I was worried, at the time, that I would break it, that my hand would go right through."

He seems to take a while to figure out how to say this next bit.

"My hand, however, never hit the canvas. I had my eyes closed for a period of time, and I didn't see what happened — but I remember gasping, and feeling my heart skip a beat, as I could feel myself fall farther than I should have been able to. The air around me went colder, and I felt light on my skin, and behind my eyelids. I continued to plummet until I felt my other hand desperately get a hold on to something." He covers his face in his hands. "My eyes were closed for that entire time, but knowing what I know now I can picture it. I can picture exactly what had happened."

He shivers.

"I had fallen through the painting.

"When I opened my eyes, I wasn't in the same room anymore. I was... I was surrounded, on all sides, by a sea of golden clouds looming like mountains in the distance. And then I was there, in the middle of it all, dangling by one hand, from a tiny, floating picture frame.

"When I looked down, there was nothing. No ground, just an obscene drop into oblivion. There was nothing else there but me and the clouds. I..."

He doesn't say anything for a while. Whenever he opens his mouth, as if to speak, he abruptly shuts it again. Eventually, he manages to say something.

"You can't... You can't comprehend what it was like, in there. I was in a place bigger than I had ever seen before. There were clouds there that were more massive than I had ever even attempted to comprehend. I was like a speck in an unknown spot of the universe. A spot that continues forever, that had no beginning, and will have no end. I carried that despicable painting the whole way here and back without knowing, without even knowing what it contained. It's not right for such a place to exist.

"I was so afraid of losing my grip, of falling into that abyss, of feeling my own weightlessness as I dropped, and of the frame receding away until I couldn't see. You can't imagine. I can't..." He pauses for a moment, seemingly unsatisfied with himself. "I can't describe it. I can't."

She tries to place a hand on his shoulder, reassuringly. "I... I think I understand."

"No, you don't." He says, firmly. "You haven't seen the painting. You haven't been inside it. How could you possibly understand? How could you understand anything? You just sit in your ivory tower and collect things others have left behind for you, things which you have no experience of, and yet you pretend that you comprehend anything of which you talk about."

He turns away briskly. They sit in silence for a moment. Eventually, he slowly turns back and looks at the ground.

"I eventually got out. It was horrible. It was like crawling through a window. I don't know how long I had been in there. I don't think I care. It could've been minutes or days. How could such a place possibly care for such a measly thing as time?

"I sat in the floor of the living room for several minutes after, looking around. I described it like this last time, but I mean it now. Everything felt different in there. Everything was unfamiliar, as if, as if the uncanniness of the painting had spread to everything around me. Nothing's... Nothing's felt familiar since. Everything feels off." He glances briefly at the window blinds. "I can't stand to see the sky any more. It reminds me too much of that place.

"I remember feeling, as I sat, that that room felt like the entire universe. That there was nothing outside but an endless dark." He pauses for a moment, and then starts chuckling softly. "It was New Year's Eve that night, wasn't it? It was bloody New Year's Eve. I didn't even realise. When I looked back at the painting, I felt so... so... Ugh, god. It's this horrible feeling. You feel like you're in awe, but you're absolutely disgusted at the same time. I didn't think. I just drew my knife and swung it in front of me.

"In my mind, that thing still looked like a window. I couldn't imagine it as anything close to a painting anymore.

"And yet, as my knife cut across it, the thing split in two."

He doesn't talk after that. Neither does belle know what to say.

So they just sit in silence.

---

A month has passed. Belle sits in her office, thinking. Cillian had since returned to his studies, but Marlin said he still never seemed fully present.

And he hadn't come back to Artefact Storage since.

She had had an artist try to recreate the painting just how Cillian had described it. When he saw it, he said it wasn't right. It now hangs in the Vidius Gallery, in absence of the real thing.

But what really occupies her mind at the moment is what Cillian had said to her. He said that she couldn't understand. Not that she didn't, but that she couldn't.

She thinks she gets what Cillian meant.

She had never seen the painting that she had heard so much about. She finds herself regretful of that fact, but reckons that, if she had ever actually seen the painting, then she never would've had Cillian return it.

#fantasy #worldbuilding #ittoril #i wish i could fall into a painting and have a life changing experience where i could never see the world the same way again #thanks for reading #im actually really happy with this piece

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shxwmaster · 1 year

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// where's my si:7 hearthstone expansion god dammit

#leave no trace ; ooc #( i don't play hearthstone i just REALLY love seeing all the wackshit art and trailers that come from it )#( please please please si:7 trailer musical ft. spymaster mathias shaw legendary card or something )#( or the playable rogue )#( IT'D BE SO MUCH FUN IT'D BE SO FUNNY BLS. EVEN VANCLEEF MADE IT TO HEARTHSTONE )#( just make it a massive james bond parody )#(( in actuality i'm really just starved for ANY official shaw art. given that there is exactly ONE and it's from VANILLA ))#( PLEASE )

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greeniehorn · 1 year

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❛ i can’t leave you alone for one minute, can i? ❜

You know, it wasn't that bad! A little glue, maybe a nail here and there, and no one will ever know the shelves were ever brok-...oh. The hair on the back of Cam's neck stood on end; there was absolutely no mistaking that voice. He turned his head to look up at Shaw and flashed a wide, sheepish grin at the Spymaster. "Hellloooo, Spymaster!" He squeaked, casually hiding the book behind his back. "Didn't hear you come in!" He tugged on the hem of his hood, as if he were tipping a hat. "Of course you didn't hear him come in he's the bleedin' Spymaster." Cam thought to himself as he shuffled awkwardly to the right. "Quick, think of something to say you idiot!" He was silent for a moment as he eyed the window. "Bye!" Cam flashed a quick wave before whistling like a nervous bird. Windowwindowwindowwindow annnnnd it's stuck. @shxwmaster

#cam what did you think was going to happen #shxmaster

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kaldorei-shadows · 1 year

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Hexphae, Time-lost Shieldmaiden of Stromgarde

Al's new mission is to help someone dangerously beautiful and very, uh... special.

Alessandre didn't like dealing with Mattias Shaw. The Human was full of himself, and being a spymaster, a spymaster for Stormwind, made him worse off than most. Well, Al conceded he had his own vanity, few in the roguish line of work were lacking in confidence. (Al remembered how he had insisted on being called something better than master rogue if he was going to share the title with two colleagues, for example.)

However, Al was furious at Shaw for giving him mission orders, to his face, as if the Kaldorei worked under him. A ridiculous notion that the Alliance badly needed to shed, if they all were going to be actual allies. Treating whole races of people like your personal errand boys, rather than it being a real collaboration, just rubbed Al the wrong way.

"Not that everything needs to be run by a council vote, but I don't need to be sent and fetched!" Al let his complaining be as loud as he liked. The other rogues lingering in the halls of the SI:7 headquarters turned their heads as the tall, darkly handsome Night Elf spymaster headed into Matthias Shaw's office.

Al's friend... frenemy, Sharpen Jadescythe, anyway, he was an in-law, once told a story about punching Shaw in the face. Sharpen's outrageous tale had also involved wrestling sharks, and kicking a Dwarf in the face too during a botched SI:7 Seals swim test, all planned by Shaw himself. Al, seeing Shaw's prickish 'I own your secrets' grin again after so long, fully believed the stinky fish tale was true.

Al glared.

"Have a seat, please."

Al didn't sit.

Then, it was awkward, as both men had something to prove. Shaw could hold the entire meeting hostage, Al began to realize. Then again, Shaw surely knew that Triumvir Alessandre Shademoon was among the most vocal Night Elves petitioning Tyrande and Malfurion to withdraw from the Alliance. It was all because of how the War of the Thorns got botched, leaving the Kaldorei with far less support than many believed they should after putting so much into the Alliance over a lifetime.

"Standing is better for one's health anyway. I hear," Shaw let out a breath, drummed fingers on his desk. "I'll begin, then. There is someone we can't officially handle--"

"But the Kaldorei are fine with getting their hands soiled by messy Human matters?"

"Hear me out. It's for the good of everyone that we hold Arathi, Stromgarde especially, and keep the Forsaken in check. A wayward kingdom of Undead were being ruled by Galen Trollbane until recently, if you recall."

Al remembered it. He'd hated hearing about the rise of another cult-like kingdom hungry for revenge, under a demagogue like Sylvanas. It had been a tenuous waiting game to see if these Undead were going to be more loyal to their Human predecessors or the Forsaken of the Horde.

Al still wasn't saying anything useful. Shaw itched his scalp, smoothed red hair back, "There is a contact I want you to make, who has invaluable knowledge of the Arathi Highlands. Not just strategic knowledge, but a real grasp over the history, the ancient rituals, the tribal, uh, magic used around that time. Much of it was lost when Humans turned to the arcane teachings of the Elves."

Al smirked, "You mean the Highborne, specifically the Quel'dorei. My people were not involved, we were on a whole other continent."

Shaw snapped his fingers as if he'd simply forgot the name of a particular flower or something. "Nice! Thank you."

Al went to leave, "You've mixed us up at your own peril. Go talk to one of Alleria's lapdogs."

"I can't!" Shaw stood from his desk. "Hexphae dislikes the Quel'dorei."

"Oh, I see..."

"You don't see, actually," Shaw came around his desk quickly. "She never liked arcane magic. One of those odd sorts there to witness Humans use magic for the first time, at the dawn of time, and resent it so much, she quit Arathorian society and never returned. She's the daughter of shamans. Or, we think she is."

"Well, she and I can agree on one thing. I'm not so sure about having the Highborne back, using magic in our cities the way they do. What is left of our cities. "

"But, Al. Your people have learned to accept the magic users of the Alliance. If you could persuade Hexphae to do the same?"

Al paced away from Shaw, lingered near an interesting looking bookshelf, "It has to do with reining in the Forsaken and it has to do with someone who dislikes the Humans about as much as I do right now. I can see why you singled me out for this mission. But you're forgetting one little thing, Shaw." Then, at last, Al sat. Put his feet up on the edge of Shaw's desk. "What’s in it for me?"

Shaw came over quickly, pulled the other chair close. Al mused at how Shaw resembled a used cart salesman, but didn't realize it. "We want to hold Arathi, for good this time. Aggression with the Horde over this land is supposed to be over."

Al nodded, "Supposed to be. But I'm a posioner, a killer, a man who wants an independent Kaldorei nation that can fend for itself."

Shaw squinted an eye, "I hate to tell you that Night Elf world-domination ended with Azshara."

"I wonder how much insult you think I'll take, cornered in your office, before my dart-throwing arm begins to twitch."

Shaw was menacing, "Get over yourself, Al."

"I still don't hear my incentive on the wind."

"This is all about runestones. This potential contact, Hexphae, must know all about them. We're sure she does. Those are supposed to be deep underground beneath Arathi, all over the plains. It turns out, runestone magic predates arcane magic. Ancient Quel'dorei and Humans, even shamanistic Humans, were able to use runestones. But that's a secret forbidden to us in Stormwind even now."

"Well, your sin'dorei spy network broke down under Sylvanas." Al leaned in, his fine black leather creaked, "You telling me that the Quel'dorei or Void Elf contacts the Humans got a hold of won't betray tradition, either? Ha! Good luck!"

Shaw defended himself as Al got up, edged his way out of the office. "That runestone tech would be invaluable, to all of us, ontop of everything else! Al, don't be a stubborn ass like always. We are so close to results. Just go and see her for me. Please!"

Al strutted down the halls of SI:7, with Shaw yelling for him to just listen. But maybe it was for show. Maybe both of them knew it was the only way to end that meeting with neither man losing face. It was a bitter situation, asking any Kaldorei for a political favor these days. Beyond the loss of Darnassus, the shame was great. Night Elves were strapped for manpower, resources. There wasn't much they could contribute to the Alliance, among those who still wanted to. That nagged at Al as well. He covered up for it pretty well with his lofty ideals, but the reality was, the Kaldorei were coming up short. Alliance superfriends or not, it couldn't last.

Anyway, if Shaw was as good as everyone claimed, then Shaw saw the light in Al's eyes when the word 'runestone' was mentioned. Al played it off as well as he could.

Runestones kept the Quel'dorei safe from the Scourge and nearly every other threat for thousands of years. It took espionage and assembling a fifth pillar among the elite, Dar'khan, to infiltrate and get the runestones down at long last. Arthas Menethil had done that.

But what about in an era of mortals who had learned better? In an era where Arthas and the Dar'khans of the world had been defeated? Runestones had been done so well, proven true before. What if the Night Elves used them this time, to seal their lands? Or, great swaths of Kalimdor? Hell, why not all of it? Al wasn't ashamed of his greed when it came to protecting his people.

So, Shaw had to be left thinking that Al wasn't voraciously interested in this plan. At least, for now. Never let a rival know when they've got you in the palm of their hand.

Later, in Duskwood...

Al spent a few days at the Duskwood inn before he realized Shaw meant it when he said the Human woman Hexphae was a hermit. With no sign of her, the almost wild woman was apparently happier in a tent surrounded by feral Worgen and spiders, than inside the walls of civilization.

After scouting her out in the forests, Al literally dug himself a pit downwind of Hexphae and laid in it for a day, before he caught sight of her. That would have been the other reason Shaw wanted Al on this mission. He'd lived for an age as a hermit himself. He knew the mentality.

Rather than approach her outright, Al played it safe. He built a fire and cooked a delicious-smelling dinner. However wild this cave woman was, it would be better to meet on her terms, not trespass into what would be seen as her own territory. And he'd hidden well just beyond her doorstep till now. Any hermit would at least investigate. It was like waving a white flag from across a battlefield.

Around suppertime, this tall brown-skinned woman with bare, muddy legs walked into Al's camp. She was armed, but didn't have any of her weapons in hand. He also noticed that she was far from some tribal savage. Al had assumed animal skins would be involved.

He beheld a true daughter of Arathor, wearing thick, but finely crafted armor. The ancient plate was done over in runes that had a dull glisten, as if the metal was aware, sort of alive. She wore light cloth skirt beneath the wide betal belt.

Time-lost, definitely. She somehow had stumbled out of a rift from her time, into this one. She'd got beneath the gaze of the Bronze Dragonflight so far. Or, she was using powerful means to hide herself from them. Al would need to deduce that, fast. He had no intention of getting involved in some dramatic Twilight Dragon war.

"Hail."

That greeting reminded Al of an Orc or a Tauren.

"Evening." Then, he gestured for her to sit and share his fire.

"You know my name. You've been sent."

Al thought over how to handle this. Pretty quickly, they had both got on the same page. As if she were a decent spy as well. He told himself that it was just good instinct, from living outdoors. You always had to work out where and why you had new neighbors near your camp, man or animal.

"Hexphae, I believe. But am I pronouncing that right, my lady?" Al hoped charm worked in any age.

She warmed to him. She relaxed her shoulders. But Hexphae wouldn't sit just yet. "You're not Human."

"Does that make you trust me more? Or less?"

"Did the other Humans send you?"

Al couldn't hide how that irked him. This made her smile. She sat down and reached for the venison Al had roasting over the fire. She used her own knife to carve off a piece.

"You're not the first one they sent. But you are the first who didn't worship this Shaw idiot. They speak of him like some god. No man is a god. No magic is some god to be worshipped. Also, all of them wanted my armor. Do you want my armor?"

Al blinked. That definitely came off as some kind of invitation, however subtle. Usually, he did rely on a little flirting to get what he wanted. It was a part of who he was as a person, he couldn't help how people, especially women, responded to him. And, well, he'd started it.

Al stretched out, folded arms beneath his head. "It is very fine armor. What is that made of, exactly?"

She chewed meat for a while. "No one ever asks if I'd like get home. This must mean... it cannot be done."

Al felt terrible about that. "You feel used, I can understand that. I'll level with you... it may be partially because, the same ones who would send you back may also punish you for being here at all."

Hexphae balked, greasy meat in one hand, dull gray knife in the other. "Who has the right to choose that! Or the power? To damn people for things beyond their control."

Al sighed, "Dragons."

"Those are real?? Well, I suppose like magical lanterns that turn themselves on with a flick of your wrist, and orbs for scrying on people. Portals that take you halfway across the realm. Damn magic! Damn Elves!"

Al chuckled, "My people resisted practicing, well, a sort of full-on magic until recently. I feel your pain."

"Hrmph!" Hexphae finished the meat she had. She glanced at Al, who nodded, before she went in for seconds. "I see you're a kind of Elf. But I never met one who cooked meat this good. It's like home, over a simple fire." She blinked, "This isn't magic, is it?"

Al shook his head.

"That's right! The way to a girl's heart is through her belly. This is deer. It is delicious."

"A Kaldorei recipe. My name is Alessandre Shademoon. Call me Al. My people worship the night, the stars. We were made to rely on Humans in recent memory. Before then, we were a great nation, and we did that on our own backs. We were not addicted to magic, like some others. Like the ones who came and taught magic to your people so long ago."

Hexphae ate more slowly, she was getting contemplative or full, hard to tell. "They worshipped the sun."

Al wasn't sure what to say next. He seemed to have Hexphae on his side, but he didn't want to go straight into asking for big favors. Right now, they felt like neighbors, having a chat.

"I am called Hexphae. But you must understand, it is not a name. It is who I am, it is what I do. My true name... that belonged to my family, my loved ones. That is lost."

Al decided to let the silence continue to work for him.

She wiped a hand on her mouth, and then her cloth skirt, as if remembering her ancient manners. "I know you want to learn about the runes beneath Arathi. My clan, we tended to those."

Al tried not to sing and do a dance right there. "So, the runestones do exist."

"You can guess my price for tending them again, and you can't cheat me. You'll never manage it on your own. There is no way down, no tunnels. It's in my blood, and my bones. When I die, and I must be the last of the Hexphae?" She looked off through the trees, "The secret of Human runestones will end with me."

Al nodded. He sat up, and cut free some meat for himself. It seemed rude now not to share, to deal with her like some lost, hungry animal.

They ate together and talked of the land, the stars, the seasons. The eternal and natural way of things, the things that never cease to make one wonder at the world, for some time.

Al decided to be straight with such a kindred soul, "So. You would risk dragons to go back home? And that's after helping me--us, that is. The Alliance. The Bronze dragons may forbid you to go back. Or, worse. You could get caught up in their squabbles with the Twilight dragons."

Hexphae bowed her head, hearing all that. "I miss the old ways. I want to revel in the runes again, before I die. It may be that the means justify my end."

"I see."

"And to be called my true name again, after so long. By my own people. Eventhough I walked away from them, back then. I must not give up hope."

Al gave Hexphae a hard look. "You may have to begin again. Many on Azeroth have found themselves in this same position, their old ways destoyed. It was hard, but they made a new life, new family. I am not saying that it is fair, nor easy to do. But that may be the real hopeful end to this."

It began to rain. Al grimaced.

"Come, Elf." She thumped her chest and gave a weird smile. "My tent is dry."

"Uh, I'll give you an example of what I mean. See this?" He hastened to get the damned stone out of his vest.

Hexphae flinched, and her hand went for her greasy stone knife in the dirt.

"No, it's alright!" Al ducked as the rain kept falling on them, "It's a hearthstone!"

"Oh, a little runestone, how cute!"

"Yes. Cute! That's what it is. Here, hold onto me and watch what it does. Perfect for situations like this one."

Hexphae was not opposed to going over and squeezing Al at his inviation. Something that made him flinch this time. "Uh, hold on! Here we go!"

Al used his hearthstone. Hexphae squealed like it was a thrill.

The green magic faded, and the warmth of Darkshire Inn was suddenly all around them.

"Yes!!! Do that again!" Hexphae was still hugging him.

"Eh, kind of a one-way trip. That's the point, a hearthstone takes you home." He was nice about it, and smiled until Hexphae let him go.

Then, she growled and snatched it. "Mine!"

Al looked over this cave woman he'd suddenly adopted. "Uh... innkeep? Can I get another hearthstone? Seems we're staying."

"Can you make more meat! Hexphae hungers!"

"Uh, and some stew please? Calm down, we're in a house, not a cage."

But then it occurred to Al that he was the one in a cage. At least until he could teach Hexphae to be indoors around other, modern people.

"And after the meal, we will wrestle!"

Then, maybe things might calm down? His wife Opal would kill him.

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