[Story] Story a Week 30 – Graveyard

Curiosity brought Stormpelt further away from the town. She had seen very little of her leader and his family, though she sometimes saw them from afar. There was a little hill she liked to sit upon and watch the town; they were mostly awake at night, like she had been once. She still feared the people with the sharp spears, though they usually did not approach unless she got too close to the town. The pup was big now, old enough to come out of their den and run on his own. Stormpelt saw him sometimes, with his mother. She could not be certain, of course, but they looked happy to her. They didn’t need her to protect them any longer — they had the town and the people with sharp spears. In fact, they probably never thought of her at all, and the realization left her feeling restless. Was it sadness? Perhaps it was, or something like it. Her first master had betrayed her, leading her to this place in between alive and dead. Now it seemed the second had forgotten her. That was not as bad, but it still hurt. Stormpelt did not wish to give up on him just yet, however. He had saved her, and she had sworn to follow him and keep him and his family safe. There could be danger lurking here that she had missed, she could not afford to be complacent. 

Dawn rose over the dense forest, illuminating the dew that clung to the grass and low brush. Stormpelt knew it would not be long before the leaves began to turn color and fall to the ground. Then the rain and the wind would come, and she would have to seek shelter. While she could not really feel the cold, being wet was still unpleasant, and Grub Grub preferred to be warm and dry. The trails of deer — and perhaps their predators — were visible through the grass where the dew had been brushed away by their passing. Stormpelt faintly remembered the smell of them, the excitement of finding a path and calling to the rest of her pack, noses all to the ground as they hunted. Those days seemed impossibly long ago, just a fading memory. One day she would be dead longer than she had been alive, and she worried that she might forget everything good from those days. She did her best to hold onto them, but scents were the most difficult. No matter how she tried, she could not smell them as she did then, they were dull and faded.

Stormpelt moved past some crumbling stones, in a place she did not recognize. She knew the stones had been put there by people; they were carved and arranged into buildings and pillars. Or they had been, once. Now they were a jumble, overgrown with vines and thorns. Why had the people left? Stormpelt didn’t know, and the stones gave her no answers. The grass grew soft and green between the stones, and she thought she might rest there among them, not that she had to, but because it was so lovely with the morning sun. Something caught her eye though, further back beyond the ruins of one of the buildings. More stones, but these were not fallen, but stood on end in the earth. Words were carved into them, and though Stormpelt could not read them, she knew at once what they were. She had seen such stones back in Silverpine. They were graves, marking the places where bones lay beneath the earth. A place for the dead to rest at peace, not to wander as she did. Stormpelt went among them carefully, her nose to the ground. She took care not to knock any stones over or stand where she thought someone might be. What would they think, if they could see her? But she knew they could not. They were somewhere else, wherever people went when they were really dead. She liked to think they were warm and happy and peaceful, wherever they were. They could not feel cold or wet or abandoned any longer. Even so, she felt a strange sort of kinship with them. They needed someone to keep watch over their resting place. She could guard the stones, pull the vines from them and put them upright if they fell over. She could ensure that no people came to walk over the bones or dig them up. She would be their guardian and their keeper, for as long as she was able.

[Screenshots] Class Mounts

I’ve been keeping up with my weekly chores on the alts, so I was able to start working on getting class mounts Tuesday. I haven’t finished them all yet (more about that in a second), but I thought I’d post the ones I have so far. I do like the little cut-scenes you get at the end where you actually get the mount, some of them are pretty cool.

Like the class campaigns, though, they vary widely in difficulty. Most of my alts are around 850 ilevel, so they’re not especially well geared. Monk was really easy, and didn’t even have an elite to kill. The only one that’s really given me trouble so far is Warrior, even at 862 in Prot spec I’ve been unable to kill even the first challenger. I need to wait for a nerf or for him to get more gear, I guess. Warlock had to get an item from a Legion invasion, so I had to wait 7 hours for that. He also had to buy expensive crafted things from the Auction House. But hands down the worst is Rogue. They have to assassinate a target in each of the enemy faction cities. Which would be okay if they were scenarios, but nope, they’re on live. From what I’ve read, the Silvermoon target (the first one for Alliance rogues) also has a super long respawn time. I’m hoping for a nerf, otherwise it’s going to be a very long time before I get the rogue mount, which is disappointing because it’s one of the ones I actually liked.

Druid is very underwhelming, too. Not only do I find it incredibly ugly, it’s not actually a proper mount, it’s just a change to flight form. If you bought the very expensive Glyph of the Sentinel, you have to pay to switch back and forth between them. It also lacks an idle pose, a perch pose, a walking/ground pose, uses the old form sounds, and cannot be used in no-fly areas.

All the mounts (that are proper mounts, not druid form) can be used by other alts of the same class, however. I’ve read that druids can use the new owl if they have flying learned, in Moonglade. I haven’t gone to test it though, because in all honesty I don’t want to use it.

Visually, I think I like the Death Knight one best so far. Their movie was really cool too. (Though the actual quest I didn’t like! You’ll see why if you do it. I corpse ran rather than follow orders.) I also really like the Monk cat because he talks to you!

[Story] Story a Week 34

[[ Prompt: A story about loneliness

I have two characters who are very lonely, and both are undead! Sora, the mage, and Stormpelt the worgen. I chose Stormy because she’s needed to help watch over Feathermoon while Ornasse is away. ]]

They had all forgotten about her.

Stormpelt had roamed the woods for a long time. How long exactly, she could not be sure. She did not have to sleep, so she could not count the days easily. In this dense forest, the seasons ran together — it never got very hot in the summer nor very cold in the winter. It was either wet, or not wet. She could not feel the cold, though she enjoyed laying out on a warm rock in the afternoons. Stormpelt could not remember how many times she had done that.

Sometimes she saw others, but not often. If she got too close to the town, she’d see the ones with the sharp things. Stormpelt didn’t like those, so she was careful to avoid them. There were others sometimes, the big ones that smelled bad, but she could not remember the last time she saw one of them. The most interesting were the small people, in their makeshift camps. Once Stormpelt came across one as she roamed, and she had to stay and investigate because she had never seen anything like it before. They had food hanging out, meat and fish and berries drying on racks, and though they looked delicious, Stormpelt had no need of them. She found a place to rest and waited for them to return. What she saw surprised her. They were covered in fur, and they smelled warm and alive. They chittered excitedly to each other, eating together around the fire. Stormpelt felt a stab of emotion — she wasn’t exactly sure what, at first. Remembering her own pack, guilt for what had happened since then, a desire to be among these small strangers. But if they were like any other living people, they would not want her there. They would snarl and show their weapons and shout at her. No matter how much they might be alike, there would always be that one difference between them.

She had almost been welcomed, by the leaf-person and his mate. He had saved Stormpelt in the fire place, tended to her burnt paws and brought her back to safety. Stormpelt could tell that they were still wary, but they had been kind to her. She remembered how they used to wash her and comb her hair. They had a tiny pup, and Stormpelt would help watch over him while he played. He must be a lot larger now. Stormpelt wasn’t sure she would recognize him now, but she would surely remember his scent. But she hadn’t seen them for a very long time, since they had arrived here in the forest. They lived in the town, safe inside the strong buildings, but Stormpelt was not allowed there. Had they forgotten about her? It was likely so. They had their own lives — real lives, not the strange version that Stormpelt had, somewhere in between alive and dead. She longed to see them again, not only to see that they were safe, but for that sense of belonging. It was the thing she most missed about her pack — aside from Frostmoon, of course.

At least she still had Grub Grub. He, at least, had never left her. She withdrew into the cool darkness of her den, curling around herself. Grub Grub liked the warmth of summer, he was more active and hungry, and searched her open paw for the berries she had brought him. Berries weren’t his favorite food, he preferred meat, but he hungrily ate them, all the same. Stormpelt had just laid her head down to rest when she heard the whisper of feathers outside her den. She perked her ears curiously.

“Worgen?” a voice called, and Stormpelt’s heart leapt. It was the leaf person. He hadn’t forgotten about her after all.

[Art] ToV Doodles

Over the summer I raided with my friend’s guild, since my own had stopped for the expansion. They were so nice and fun, I’m sad that I probably won’t be able to go with them again for a while because our raid nights are the same. Maybe a bit later in the expansion I will be able to!

Here’s two little quick drawings I did of the raid leader and one of the other healers!

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[Story] Springtime

Stormpelt knew the season had changed by the way the forest smelled. Even her dulled nose could smell the rain soaking into the soil, the fresh green leaves unfurling from their buds, and the little flowers that dotted the ground with speckles of color. The birds had returned too, from their hidden places in the trees, and now twittered from the first blush of sunrise. Most of all, Stormpelt liked the way the sun shone through the treetops and warmed her fur in the afternoons, if it wasn’t raining that day. She was not sure exactly how many times the moon had changed since they’d come here, but she knew how many springs it had been. It was easy to lose count when time didn’t change you anymore. She saw the whole rest of the world change — the forest, the animals, even her strange furless master and his family. Their small pup was not so small anymore, it seemed his legs had grown longer every time she saw him. She didn’t see much of Leaves and Berries now; they had the entire pack to look after them, and they still eyed Stormpelt with suspicion. Still, she often crept close to their den during the daytime, when most of the pack slept, to check on her master. It was her hope that one day the pup would be allowed to play in the woods, and she could meet him there. Stormpelt remembered playing with the pups before, in her old life. They tumbled and wrestled and gnawed on each other with endless energy. She had never had any of her own, and the thought filled her with sadness sometimes, but at the least she could help raise Leaves’s pup, and ensure that he was taught well. That was what the pack was for.

More distressingly, she had lost Grub Grub sometime over the winter. The worm had been her companion since those days with the bad master, her one small comfort. Normally she took very good care of him, and always ensured that he was tucked away somewhere safely, but one morning last winter, he was simply gone. He didn’t have much smell, and her dulled nose was not keen enough to sniff out where he had gone. She searched her resting spot, and the area surrounding it, but she could find no sign of him. The winter this year had been more harsh than usual, ice forming over the streams and riming the branches even deep in the forest. A few times, Stormpelt felt snowflakes accumulating on her back, and she had to retreat to her den underneath the tree. She had learned early on that they would not melt if she stayed out, and would eventually find herself coated if she did not seek shelter. She was always cold, but Grub Grub’s absence made everything more miserable. She paused to sniff every worm and caterpillar hopefully, if she should happen across one while walking. They weren’t the same sort of worm, though — some were thin and pink, others fat and green. Once she even found a hairy one, and that tickled her nose. None were the right color or shape to be Grub Grub, though.

Rain began to spatter the ground, big drops that splashed when they landed, and Stormpelt went into her den beneath the big tree. She did not mind the rain, but she did not like the way the mud felt if it dried on her fur. Even if it did mean that Berries would wash her with the soap that smelled like flowers after. She went to the back of the den, nosing her dry leaves into a pile, and curled up on top of them. She heard a crinkling from underneath her paw, and lifted it to look. One of the leaves was moving. Underneath were several small worms, more than Stormpelt could count. They were very tiny, but they were the right color and shape to be Grub Grub. Her heart leapt, and she curled her paws protectively around them. She would ensure that they were safe.

[Art] Orledin’s Hawkstrider

Happy Birthday to Orledin’s player! (I can’t draw bird skeletons!)

orledin_bday

[Art] Too Ghoul for School

An idea for a silly picture I had. I was going to make him on a chopper but I can’t draw them, haha.

I guess you could also put “You and What Army” for the text.

tooghoul_final_jpg