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dont-trust-the-owls · 3 years

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What is in a name?

The winds that whipped and battered against the peaks of Darkshore grew silent for a few brief moments as a child was brought into the world, as if Azeroth herself had held her breath for only a moment.

Kouru looked on with swelling pride as the small babe was presented to Lyrae, its minuscule form clinging desperately to the warmth of its mother as it began to try and make sense of this frightening new world around it.

His fellow druids retreated after rounds of congratulations and praise, leaving the newly formed family to enjoy a fleeting peace among the pale light of the full moon. Lyrae pointed an exhausted hand towards Elune, a hand Kouru grabbed and gently placed against his greying chin.

"Even Elune comes out to see the birth of our child" Lyrae croaked with a grin.

Kouru turned his attention towards the moon watching the couple through the small window slats and chuckled. He was certain there was some old tale somewhere about a child being born under a full moon, but for now he was less concerned with ill omens and grand prophecies.

He leaned down and placed a kiss on Lyrae's forehead, and a second one made its way to the babe. The squirming bundle of grey flesh and blue hair gazed up with eyes as white as the full moon, cooing softly before letting out a sharp cry.

"There there child, I know your father is a grizzled old Owl, but he is a gentle soul" Lyrae said softly as she hummed and rocked with the small child.

Kouru stood with a grin and shuffled towards the window. Lyrae would miss the look of concern on her husbands face as he locked eyes with the moon once more. The old druid's concern was fleeting, but he could not feel the draw of the wild upon the child.

He is a brand new child, and I am an old, bitter Kaldorei. Even I can be wrong, of that I am certain, Kouru thought to himself as Lyrae called out to him, beckoning him to her.

Kouru returned to her side, crouching down beside the two of them. A feather was plucked from the mantle around his shoulders and placed in the doll like hand of the child.

"We shall call him Kouru, just as my father called me, and his father called him, and the legend shall be born again," Kouru said as he rubbed a clawed finger against a chubby cheek and grinned.

Lyrae laughed a strained laugh and nodded, her hand finding purchase against the old druid's jaw once more. "Just what will I do with two of you? The one of you has already worn me out completely, and he's not but a few moments old."

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dont-trust-the-owls · 3 years

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A brief matter of housekeeping.

Hello! I'll keep this short and sweet. I'm shifting Raewen to a sub blog of this, as I've got an RP character that I've grown far more passionate and interested in playing, thus the change of scenery.

Thank you for your time. Don't forget to drink some water.

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dont-trust-the-owls · 3 years

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has this been done yet

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dont-trust-the-owls · 3 years

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Sunday mornin’ comin’ down.

What would have been a peaceful and even idyllic morning had come. The sweet smell of the ocean breeze and the various goods from the Tradewinds Market flooded through Raewen’s open window. Warm sunlight kissed his face as the oaf began to stir, moved along by the unpleasant barks and chirps of a rather aggravated raven.

The elf's head pounded as he forced open his eyes to the brutal assault of the sun. Elisandreth sat in the open window, her head canted to one side as she hopped from side to side on the windowsill. Like some lumbering leviathan rising from the depths he managed to coerce his body to respond.

Raewen sighed as he clambered up from the wooden floor to the edge of the still made bed, looking with a bit of disdain at the neatly arranged armor and equipment laying just as it was when he prepared for the previous night's gala event. He tossed the perpetually errant tuft of blue hair away from his good eye and braced himself against the already aggravating day.

His feathered friend hopped down from the window and began to peck at the remnants of a rum bottle he couldn’t quite recall coming home with before that was nestled among the remnants of the silken shirt he’d somehow managed to wear. The former druid wouldn’t have needed to commune with animals to understand the disappointment in his longtime friend as she stared up at him from.

“Don’t look at me like that. I said I was going to socialize once our business in Drustvar was finished, so I socialized” Raewen said rather matter of factually to the bird as he began to kick off the preposterous shoes and strip off the sweat and dirt stained black trousers.

A fleeting moment of clarity came to the elf as he began to put on his linen trousers and boots, he was talking to a bird in his room after a night of heavy drinking. Raewen sighed as the clarity waned beneath the throbbing headache.

“Besides, it isn’t like it was all bad. You were quite popular among the crowd, especially with that Talon Druid” he said slyly as he pulled his well travelled shirt over his head.

The evening had gone far better than he had expected. He’d met a few new people, bumped elbows with nobility, and apparently nearly turned into a trophy for an elf he had to dance with. His interaction with the woman had lingered in his head for most of the night, though something about her presence told Raewen that is exactly what she wanted.

By now he had managed to pack all of his gear up neatly around the sheath and harness for his sword. He slung the makeshift pack over his shoulder and staggered to the window, jerking his head to one side as he let out a sharp whistle. In an instant the raven had given up her assault of the rum bottle to take flight, soaring out the window and into the Boralus sky with a sharp shriek.

Raewen tossed a handful of coins on the bed before reaching down to gather the tattered shirt and bottle on his way out. The Snug Harbor Inn was eerily silent as the elf crept down the stairs and out the door. The staff paid him no mind as he went on his way, their attention more focused on cleaning and preparing for what was sure to be another night of debauchery in the port city.

As he walked methodically through the throngs of people that roamed the Tradewinds Market the telltale feeling of being watched began to creep back from the darkest depths of Raewen’s mind. It was subtle at first, the elf would catch a passing glance or a surprised expression among the face of some human or another.

It was the worst among the druids, however. A look of disappointment from a passing Thornspeaker shot a jolt of embarrassment down the elfs spine, and a second glance from an aging Kaldorei lit the proverbial powder keg.

“Fuck,” he grunted as the unwanted attention seemed to grow. It had been some time since the elf had wandered city streets like this, and the people of Drustvar had been too preoccupied with having their problems dealt with to give the exotic eyed elf anything more than a passing glance.

Guilt began to ferment into anger as he finally arrived at the docks. A small crowd had gathered around the gangplank as, on the horizon, a blue sailed ship began to approach. Raewen cast a glance overhead as Eliandreth mingled among a flock of seagulls and exchanged lightning fast passes with a local falcon. At least she’s enjoying herself still, he thought.

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dont-trust-the-owls · 3 years

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Of Vipers and Ravens

As he walked along one of the dusty paths Raewen couldn’t help but notice how foreign Ashenvale had become to him. The past few years had not been kind to his one time homeland, first ravaged by the Cataclysm and the incursion of the orcs, then driven to the brink of death by the Horde war machine during their death march to Teldrassil.

The trees seemed to stand a little shorter, and the once vibrant greens and purples seemed faded and washed. Signs of the war still littered the forest, and every ruined camp and destroyed war machine set the wanderer on edge.

Sorrow seemed to fill the world around him as he walked. The flora seemed to almost cry out, and what had once been a forest brimming with symphonies of animals and insects was little more than a graveyard whose only song was the melancholy echo of the wind through the trees.

His days of tending to the beck and call of nature had long ended, and though he had sworn off his former duties and the powers associated with it, a small part of him still for the lands. He had come to terms with the impact his tenure as a druid would have on him, but even now as he reminisced on the old days he could still feel a faint call of nightmare that tugged at his soul.

In the distance the silence of the forest erupted with the shrieking and squawking of ravens. The Kaldorei stopped in his tracks and looked skyward, his ears twitching as he tried to hone in on the commotion. Viper eyes focused in the fading sunlight, conjuring up the image of the unkindness.

Normally the elf would pay such a thing no mind, but he couldn’t help but feel a certain sadness to the cries of the birds. It hearkened back to a time when, as an initiate, he’d come across a deer who had fallen victim to a young Chimaera.

He could see the birds all gathered in a circle, their close proximity to one another turned what would have been a faint heat source into a veritable bonfire to his exotic eyes. They cried out as if in pain and danced around something he couldn’t quite see.

Slowly the elf crept through the underbrush until he could make out the small gathering of the birds. In the center of their makeshift circle was a snow white bird laying to one side. Its feet kicked and its free wing fluttered but try as it may the bird simply could not regain its footing.

The former druid watched for what felt like an eternity, deep within him the once proud guardian of nature stirred from its slumber and came to blows with the cynical ex druid turned man hunter who wanted naught to do with nature anymore.

Their seemingly eternal struggle came to an end as the guardian stood triumphant, and Raewen emerged from the underbrush into the small clearing the birds occupied. He tried his best to remember his training from before he’d succumbed to the madness, and did his best to comfort the animals as he breached their small mourning circle.

He knelt down to take a closer look at the stark white raven who gazed back at him with red eyes full of pure terror. He froze for a moment, the frightened gaze of the poor creature stirred emotions in him. He remembered looking upon the waters of the Wailing Caverns, and seeing the same look of terror in his own eyes when he’d realized how far he had fallen.

At once the elf took off his leather gauntlet and stretched a hand out toward the bird. He took a deep breath and relaxed as he felt the swirling energies of life around him. Though they were far fainter than they had been to him as a student, he still coerced them to his will, focusing on mending the creature before him.

A verdant glow began to radiate from his hand as the life magics swirling in the air came to his beck and call. He shaped and gathered the energies with his mind and pushed them towards the bird, feeling them engulf the animal and begin to repair it.

The unkindness at once erupted in hoots and chirps of happiness, some taking to the sky and others hopping about him as the white bird chirped and managed to clamber back to its feet. It had taken all of his focus to conjure up the magics to heal the bird, a feat that not that long ago would have been a breeze for the former druid. He let out a labored sigh as the emerald glow dimmed and finally vanished.

Raewen opened his eyes and the stark white bird canted its head inquisitively at him. He could feel the gratitude from the bird, and offered it a soft smile. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps there is redemption for me somewhere in this world.

The bird spread its wings and began to take flight, but just as quickly as it lifted off it careened to the side of its bad wing and came back down. Raewen reacted quick enough to grab the bird with an outstretched arm, his look of joy fading to disappointment.

“I am sorry little one, it seems I am not as good as I once was,” he lamented as he placed the bird on his shoulder and stood up.

He turned his gaze toward the bird once more as he put his gauntlet back on his hand, offering it a soft smile once more. “Stay with me a while, and I will get you back to the skies, how does that sound” he asked as he procured a small scrap of jerky from his satchel and offered it up to the bird.

The raven chirped and canted its head to one side, pecking the bit of meat from the elfs hand as its talons found purchase in his chain mail. It was enough of an agreement to put a smile back on the elfs face. Above them the unkindness circled , though some had begun to soar off in different directions.

“I am Raewen, Raewen Mossbloom. I think, if you’ll allow it, I shall call you Eliandreth. How does that sound?” He asked as he gave the raven a small scratch on its neck.

The bird chirped a pleasant note and tapped its forehead against the side of Raewen’s as the two set off back towards the road.

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dont-trust-the-owls · 3 years

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The past runs faster.

A cool summer breeze danced through the grove as Raewen sat among his fellow students. The days lessons were on mending, and its applications on all living things the young druids may encounter.

Raewen couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting towards the glimpses of clear blue sky that stuck out between the vibrant greens and purples of the forest canopy. He had hoped by now that they would have been taught to change shapes, like his father had done when he was a child.

“To be a bird among the tops of the trees” Raewen muttered to himself as he imagined the wind coursing through his feathers, and how small the world would look from above.

Raewen’s sky gazing was cut short by the droning sound of hissing. It came quietly at first, but steadily the sound grew. The young Kaldorei looked down to see where once sat his peers and their instructor was now a pit of vipers, surging and hissing in unison.

He felt his heart race as the first of the snakes began to slither up his leg and into his lap. As he tried to stand more began to wrap themselves around his arms and, eventually, his torso. Their hissing culminated in a crescendo as they worked their way around his neck, and he could feel his ears ringing from the noise.

One massive viper crawled across the seemingly endless pile of snakes, coiling himself up and rearing back so as to stare the novice druid down. Its eyes glowed like hot embers, and the thin black slit of a pupil seemed as vast and endless as an ocean.

Slowly the massive beasts jaw opened revealing tenfold rows of razor sharp needles. In the fleeting daylight he could see pools of glistening venom begin to drip and roll down the endless forest of fangs.

Paralyzed by the strength of the creatures and the weight of his own fear Raewen tried to cry out. His lungs were empty from the weight of the vipers as he felt constant jolts of terror spike through his body like a lightning storm.

Just as the monster began to strike, its hollow fangs ready to sheer his head clean off, he woke up.

The jolt nearly sent him tumbling out of the thick branch he’d fallen asleep in just a few short hours ago. One hand clutched the sheathed sword he’d laid against his shoulder as the other did its best to steady him in the tree.

The distant sound of birds scattering through the trees kept his adrenaline running as he scanned the forest from top to bottom. The emptiness of the woods was both alarming and welcoming as he settled back against the trunk of the tree and brought his sword in close.

It wouldn’t be until long after the sun rose that Raewen would finally fall back to sleep, but in the back of his mind he couldn’t quite shake the soft hissing of a viper that seemed to be all around him.

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