Postcards

Cryomancer Eyowyn Tidefire

"Greetings from the charming village of Dolanar. Fifteen-something Elders down, fifty to go. It's nasty, humid, and there's no good snow anywhere. I miss Northrend. So does Bubbles."










Liselle the Unbroken

"The Light of the Naaru is faint indeed in these lands. Villagers turned to savage wolfmen, terrible, barbaric acts committed out of desperation in these tangled woods. The Grizzly Hills have the shadow of old tragedy over them, but I will not be stopped. Nagasraka carries me well; her feathers are good camoflage against the snow. Be well, my friends."



Laia (Fang) Starwind

"Hmph. This is not unlike writing with the blood on my claws. Far less fun. Arthas' bouncer tastes funny. Like blueberries."



Talaia Blackpetal

"I rather like this holiday. Everything smells nice, and there's chocolate...oh, how I love chocolate. This dress doesn't show how fat I've been getting, does it? Heehee, if you tell anyone, I will rip out your tongue and feed it to the crows. Toodles!"



Hiemalis

"The healing arts come easier to me now. The path of flame and blood, the screaming bloodlust, it is still an escape from the world. Loosing myself in the rage of the elements distracts me from all that I have lost. Keeping life within others that I love, however, is a duty that I must not forsake. One day, my vengeance for what has happened to the Draenei will come to pass; for now, I immerse myself in the mysteries of what the Krokul have shown us. Bright future and good fortune, my kin."

T'kela the Stormbringer, Priestess of the Loa and Once-Clanmother of the Stormrocks

'ey dere, mons? Whatcha be doin' comin' ta see old T'kela?

Some 'a ma old buddehs tell ya 'bout meh? I know more 'bout da Loa dan any otha monessa alive, dis I can promise ya. But you nat be knowin' much 'bout dem, I be tinkin'.

The troll grins at you, the firelight catching the tattoos of flames that circle her wrists.

I know dere names, ja, and dere spheres of influence, da tales and da legends dat go back ta da time o' our great empire! I 'ave seen dem with mah own eyes, seen Samedi, Raven Goddess 'a da Aftahlife, take the dying under her black wings, seen the hoofprints of Lukou, Deer God 'a Life.

Perhaps I teach ya, ja? I tell ya 'bout da Loa?

She laughs.

Nah, ya a big, strong, adventurer type! Yah ain't got time fah a monessa's teachin's. Tell ya what, I'ma just give ya dis...ya wanna know more, yah seek me out. I ain't leavin' dis place aneh time soon.

The troll woman fishes out a crumpled, water-stained scroll and tosses it in your direction.

Spirits be witcha, mon, and Dambala nat touch ya.

Curious, you open the scroll. In bright, bold letters, T'kela's clear hand reads:

THE FELINE LOA

Shirvallah, the Tiger
-Domain/Trait: Ruthlessness
-Symbol: A claw that's dripping blood

Bethekk, the Panther
-Domain/Trait: Stealth
-Symbol: A moon, with some stars inside the crescent

Kimbul, the Lion
-Domain/Trait: The Wild and The Hunt
-Symbol: A pawprint on a leaf

THE ATTRIBUTE LOA

Hir'eek, the Bat
-Domain/Trait: Speed
-Symbol: Three zig-zagging blue lines

Hethiss, the Snake
-Domain/Trait: Agility
-Symbol: A small snake

Shadra, the Spider
-Domain/Trait: Cunning
-Symbol: A spider's web

THE SPIRIT LOA

Lukou, the Deer
-Domain/Trait: Healing and Respite
-Symbol: Sunbeams

Ogoun, the Wolf
-Domain/Trait: War
-Symbol: Two crossed swords

Ezili, the Dove
-Domain/Trait: Love, Beauty, and Dreams
-Symbol: A crescent moon

THE ARCTIC LOA

Har'koa, the Leopard
-Domain/Trait: Motherhood
-Symbol: Spots

Rhunok, the Arctic Bear
-Domain/Trait: Strength
-Symbol: A huge pawprint

Mam'toth, the Mammoth
-Domain/Trait: Endurance and Stamina
-Symbol: A cluster of rocks

Akali, the Rhino
-Domain/Trait: Brute Force
-Symbol: A rhino's horn, curving upwards

THE AQUATIC LOA

Ro'naeja, the Crocolisk
-Domain/Trait: Tenacity
-Symbol: A scale

B'klarna, the Seal
-Domain/Trait: Ice
-Symbol: An icicle

Jhafna, the Crab
-Domain/Trait: Willpower
-Symbol: A crab's claw

Aqi'kan, the Shark
-Domain/Trait: Cruelty
-Symbol: A shark fin in water

T'jenta, the Frog
-Domain/Trait: Mobility
-Symbol: A small tree frog

Hinsa, the Fish
-Domain/Trait: Generosity
-Symbol: Small fish with three bubbles at the mouth

THE RULERS OF THE LOA

Quetz'lun, the Wind serpent
-Domain/Trait: Magic and Vengeance
-Symbol: A glowing rune

Mueh'zala, the Vulture
-Domain/Trait: Death
-Symbol: A skull

Samedi, the Raven
-Domain/Trait: Cemetaries (Peaceful Resting of the Dead)
-Symbol: Three black feathers

Shango, the Eagle
-Domain/Trait: Storms
-Symbol: A lightning bolt

THE ELEMENTAL LOA
Note: These are other names for the Loa held captive in Zul'Aman.

Ata'latki, the Dragonhawk
-Domain/Trait: The Element of Fire
-Symbol: Flames

Ina'aeri, the Eagle
-Domain/Trait: The Element of Air
-Symbol: Lines representing a gust of air

Tedra'no, the Brown Bear
-Domain/Trait: The Element of Earth
-Symbol: A tree

Hy'nakra, the Lynx
-Domain/Trait: The Element of Water
-Symbol: Water

THE ETERNAL LOA

Dambala, the Scorpid
-Domain/Trait: Treachery
-Symbol: A scorpid's stinger

Zanza, the Owl
-Domain/Trait: Wisdom
-Symbol: A scroll

Raen'elda, the Rabbit
-Domain/Trait: Purity
-Symbol: A snow-white flower petal

Baladaezor, the Dragon
-Domain/Trait: Bravery
-Symbol: The head of a dragon, color depends on your particular skills.

Geres'tek, the Tortoise
-Domain/Trait: Time and Aging
-Symbol: An hourglass


At the very bottom of the parchement, there is her swirling signature, and a drawing of a lightning bolt striking a pool of water.

I iz feral, hear me rawr (Part 2)

( 3 more days till the weekend! And I'm giving up and making this into a total RP post)

Laia Starwind's occasional companion, the cryomancer Eyowyn Tidefire, gathered the few people she had met over her travels into a guild called the Stars of Azeroth. This was a small organization, not built to facillate delving into the deepest, darkest caverns in the land, but to bring real friends together.

The druidess was the first to arrive in the mage's humble home, a fat, two-story building on the outskirts of Dalaran City (then under its protective dome). She made her way past floating looms and cloth that burned as the grinning human wove it, and settled down to watch the door.

Next to come was the night elven hunter, Idoneus Swiftarrow, and the grey wolf Shiloh that followed at his heels, grown larger and more savage than others of his kind by, as peasants would whisper, licking up the drops that fell from his master's alchemical experiments. He greeted her with a gruff nod and stood by the door as if uneasy to be inside for long.

Pilaser Stonebeard and Tiglath Lightbearer came in together, swaying slightly. Laia smirked at the pot-bellied dwarf until she noticed his outline flicker in the sunlight.

Eyowyn greeted the three of them with open arms, not even noticing the treant that craned its head in through the doorway and dropped Laia a wink with a wooden eyelid, or the blue-feathered mookin that ran in, tripped over the mage's cooking pot and erupted into a mass of flames. Laia laughed, and lazily closed her eyes.

It was safe here. She could rest.


But not for long. The next day, Eyowyn shooed the three druids outside with howled instructions to find her old friend a mace called the Earthwarden. It was an old weapon, she said, made by Neltharion long before her mother's-mother had been born, imbued with the breath of Ysera and Alexstraza before the metal cooled. It would keep the "tank", Laia, from falling under enemy blows when the druids sought Anzu, the Raven God, on their quest to learn the shape of an impowered storm crow.

Idoneus dodged the irate cryomancer and joined them, and together they walked through the mage's portal to Dalaran.

(4 manning swift flight form quests for the win! This all happened back in the good old BC days, when the four of us ground Steamvaults until it begged for mercy and the Cenarion Expedition gave me my shiny mace.

Ah, those were the good old days. Not really, though, I love being able to set foot in a dungeon without 4 months of careful preparation.)

I iz feral, hear me rawr. (Part 1)

((I can not stand boomkins. I am sure that you are all lovely people in real life, but that stupid-looking chicken-bear-moon-thing grates on my nerves like they were soft cheese.

Shush. That metaphor totally made sense.))

Laia has always been a feral druid. From the very first moment that she started bouncing on my screen, I knew that a path of finger-twirling was not for me. I wanted Laia to be a savage huntress of the wild, with muscles like steel springs under thick violet fur. I wanted her to be the eyes in the darkness, beauty and ferocity combined, not some silly antlered owl-creature.

I thwacked things on the head with my staff for ten levels, eagerly awaiting my first form. The second I finished the questline, I smashed that icon with all the strength in my hand.

There was a poof of lavender smoke, and then a massive, hulking beast, covered in tattoos and wielding claws like scythes, sat scratching itself on my monitor. I nearly succumbed to helpless weeping on the spot.

Laia was strong now, her iron hide blunting the blows of her foes, the keen nose of the bear warning her of any that would dare to stalk her down. Her weak, mortal shell was no longer neccessary, the strength of the ancient forest spirit compensating for any elven weakness. She was unstoppable.

I have never stopped loving the sheer, raw power of a druid's bear form. Even today, I feel like Laia simply tolerates the trapping of civilization around her, that she could stalk off into the woods and return, unscathed, in a few years.

Ten more levels passed, and the shape of a panther was hers. This shape she (and I) liked even more. We were swift death in the shadows, mist in the hands of our enemies, the whisper of a growl on the wind.

We never gained another form after that, aside from the skin of a cheetah, and the soft hide of a sea lion, but those do not truly count because they are not specialized for combat. The silent hunting of prey through the wilds, the pounce and the feel of their throat between your jaws, the sweet blood that splatters on your whiskers as your fangs slice through their flesh and end their life, the meat of the kill, rightfully earned by skill and wisdom, these are the things that are the triumph of the huntress. These things made us grow stronger in the way of the predator, that endless cycle of life and death that is failure to the dead and victory to the living. We embraced it, gloried in it, chose moss-strewn hollows for soft beds and lapping water from forest pools for a mug of ale at a tavern.

We were wild, free, and unstoppable, with not a care in the world or an obligation to anyone. Until, that is, we found our family.

((This post sort of turned itself into a RPed one as I wrote it. It's rather nice, actually, I hope you don't mind, my non-existent readers. ))