SUN KING.

Hello! This is an independent, private, and selective roleplay blog for Kael’thas Sunstrider from Blizzard’s World of Warcraft, established in 2017.

To get started, please read the following information and links to get an idea of how I run things. Thank you for reading, and I look forward to interacting with you.

Bio | Rules | Verses | RP Tracker | Interest Survey

Quick Facts:

Multi-verse RP covering everything from Dalaran days to Shadowlands, complete with canon-divergent and modern AUs.

Mun is over +25. Blog will contain dark themes not suitable for minors. As such, I will tag NSFW as needed.

Canon/OC-friendly; selective with cross-overs.

Side blogs, multi-muses, and personal blogs are all also welcome to follow me. (See rules page for more info).

Anyone can send in asks/memes, but mutuals only for threads.

I am flexible with thread length (short, one-liners, multi-para).

My Discord is available for mutuals only.

“Very well.” Deuce waited a moment, allowing any last minute bandage changes and for Kael to put on his shirt. Then, he turned on his heel, opening the door wide and peering out into the hall. Deuce beckoned to Kael, and then motioned to some of the guards stationed by, who ultimately fell in step behind around and behind the prince as he exited the room. They trailed down the hall, Deuce careful to not take too fast a clip, both for the sake of Kael’s injuries and so he would have more time to be outside his chambers.

They passed down the halls in relative silence, save for the clank of the guards’ armor and weapons and the padding of feet. Each wall was decked in gold and crimson draperies, the stone floors each with a similarly patterned rug. Deuce still was not sure how the blood elves had managed to come up with the resources for such a large redecorating effort, but…he certainly suspected magic was involved. For when was it not, when it came to the Sin’dorei?

As they passed by guards stationed inside the Spire, each gave their acknowledgements to Kael’thas in turn. None seemed bothered by Deuce’s presence; in fact, their lack of reaction could easily have been interpreted as familiarity.

Within a few minutes, they had emerged out a side entrance into the Court of the Sun. Here the cobblestone streets were well maintained, clean and bright in the afternoon sun. A massive tiered fountain in the center of the Court could be seen from here, with sculptures of graceful elves and giant fish cast in gold and silver that spouted water that splashed into the pools below. The smell of baking bread wafted in the air and here and there elves milled about, window shopping in some of the higher end stories around the edges of the square, or sitting on the benches or gathering for discussion.

With the arrival of Kael and his cadre of guards, some wary eyes settled on the crown prince. None approached, not yet, only giving Kael’thas their cautious respects and then going back to their own business or skittering away.

The guards spread out a little, allowing Kael’thas some space to meander, but not much. Certainly, Deuce would be directly at his side whether the crown prince liked it or not.

But within about thirty seconds of their arrival, a small group of women had sidled up to the group as close as they could manage without being warded away by the guards. There were giggles and Deuce turned his head and stopped to regard the small crowd, who gasped and whispered amongst themselves when he looked. The Nightingale swept his cape back and gave a theatrical bow, which sparked titters and sighs and more whispering between the women. With a two-fingered salute, Deuce moved back to Kael’s side as they continued their walk of the perimeter of the Court.

Kael’thas grit his teeth. Jaw set in veiled disapproval of the one who made his intentions remarkably transparent. When this Nightingale escorted him out into the courtyard, Kael shifted to the side somewhat, insisting that he walk a few inches away from his makeshift bodyguard, whom he could not dare underestimate. The light of the sun gleamed upon the odd, phoenix head-shaped mask, running down the sheath of a weapon—a dagger or sword by the size of it—attached at the hip. If the prince had run, fugitive and captive as he still was, the man could certainly force him back to the infirmary.

Kael’thas was sick of the infirmary.

He was also sick of the way people looked at him. Caution and fear blazed in the eyes of every guard, every citizen, as if they lay in wake like scared children for their prince to turn on them once more. At this, he sighed. How could he blame them? Kael’thas had ample enough time in isolation whilst in the care of physicians and healers pricking him with just about every tool available to rid the disease of which he had allowed to plague Silvermoon.

He squinted. The women who had teeter-tottered up to them had sizzled away like the burning ashes of embers and left them in the good graces of Deuce. Then the blood elf narrowed his eyes, seeing how easy it was to be approachable. As he had once been. Had the man committed any crimes of his own? Why did he feel the need to dress in such a conspicuous, anonymous manner? As if Deuce had something to hide.

Kael’thas snapped out of it, realizing he would only get a few minutes of the outside pavilion to himself. He took a deep breath and tried to appreciate the intermingling of leaves running down the ivory branches of autumnal trees. To think it all would have succumbed to the fires of the Legion, sealed with empty promises in a demon’s breath. His kingdom had gone all but extinct in the wake of his shame and sin. He squinted, undeserving hand blocking out the radiance of sun. He couldn’t figure out why he was still here.

Circling around them, fish leapt in and out of the fountain, accepting bite-sized flakes from passers-by. Further out, the guards maintained their silent vigil, just as they had done in his stead. As this man would, too, out of such obligation.

Kael'thas smirked at the text, replied with a "yes," and asked if the older elf had any preferences. As he waited for a text back, he put on his coat and grabbed a messenger bag on the way out the door.

A wizard with an affinity for fire spells. Kael would dare say he perceived his character as a way to channel his inner power and work out his own anger issues. Personal as it was to him, he did not admit this sort of spiritual work to anyone. All they knew was that he had a penchant for strategy--and surprises.

He parked his car in front of his local grocery store, went in to purchase the snacks Verath requested, and started the 20-minute drive to Tranquillien where the campaign was being held at Windrunner's home.

A Sweet Lullaby

my sister and i used to make up nonsensical lullabies for my younger brother when he was little so he’d go to sleep and the laughter that engulfed the room at the time is what your soulmate would be like. no matter how weird the rhyme, it would always end with an “i love you” and a boop on the nose, and somehow, even if the lullaby was more befitting of a sea shanty, my brother would fall asleep. i wish you sleepful nights with sweet dreams, next to the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.

Tagged by: @lady-proudmoore

Raven

Ravens are true romantics. They love stories about brave yet doomed knights and noble ladies. In keeping with chivalric custom, they are dedicated and loyal friends. Ravens are supportive, emotionally and intellectually. Famed for their intelligence, ravens are the best kinds of scholars: they are open-minded and imaginative. For example, a raven would help you decipher cryptic messages in ancient texts to discover new incantations you test and improve together. A raven would have bonded with you in large part because you're scholarly, enjoying learning for the sake of learning. You challenge yourself intellectually. You also have an appreciation for beauty. Not only is your magic effective, but it's beautiful too. People are amazed by your work and abilities everywhere you go. You and your familiar are most interested in astronomy, attempting to make sense of the past, present, and future through the movements of the cosmos.

Tagged by: @lady-proudmoore

Red

you are angry, aren't you. how apt. you laugh and show your teeth when you smile and never ever let your audience forget that you are dangerous, and then when your theatre clears you do not stop performing. you have not stopped in a very long time, because when you do someone is going to see you as a person instead of a pedestal, and that is not an option. when you are vulnerable again, you will be held.

Tagged by: @lady-proudmoore​ (ty!)

A Knife Called Grief

You have left your house, you have left those people behind, but what are you going to do about the memories which have taken root in you? You can run but not without them. You want someone to sit with you on this cool marble floor while the sun burns everything.You want them to cut your rotten heart and theirs too. You want to sit with it in front of you, let them see you with all your flaws, which haven’t been your fault but you have been made to believe so, and you want them to love you anyways. Because you know you’d do that for them.

Tagged by: @lady-proudmoore (ty!)

Arson

"the willful and malicious burning of property." so you just wanna watch the world burn, huh? maybe you were that kid who had a fascination with matches, or a weird obsession with pyrotechnics. you're probably one of the coolest criminals out there, and have a flair for the dramatic. maybe you're a firefighter in disguise! either way, sick burn, bro!

Tagged by: @lady-proudmoore​ (ty! <3)

“Indeed,” Ahlayn intoned, watching Kael’s gaze wander to the tent flap. “We both do, of course. But I insist…you seem in need of some…” he lowered his voice. “Moral support.” Without another word, Ahlayn pushed himself up from his chair, and somehow managed to stand, balancing gracefully on one foot. While he could have helped himself with a hint of magic, now was not the time to expend his power unless necessary. Especially not here, where the air teemed with arcane.

“Come. Let us find a place where we can converse in relative peace. And no, I am not letting you out of my sight until I am through with you.”

@cloakoflame

Kael jerked up, the sight of his friend on one foot not sitting right with him. “No, Ahlayn. You needn’t trouble yourself with unduly exertion and effort for me. I will survive, and so will you.”

The redhead, however, did not seem to want to budge from his decision. Of course. Ahlayn Bloodwing was little more than a stubborn mule in regards to matters of personal care. Leader or no, Kael was going to futilely fight a man who would disobey him time and again if it was for good intentions.

And Kael needed good intentions.

“Very well, then,” Kael sighed after some consideration. “Wait here.” He stepped out to inform the healers of his decision then returned. “My tent is not far from here if you can walk the distance. If the pain gets any worse, we will have to bring you back.” He stood beside Ahlayn and placed his arm over the elf’s shoulders. Once the elf would grab his wrist for support, Kael moved them slowly onward into his tent.

The space was fairly medium-sized for a temporary abode, housing a bed, a sleeping bag, a desk and chair, and various other items. His personal sword, the Quickening Blade, glowed with fire as it twitched against the post nearest the headboard of his bed. Upon seeing the sword, Ahlayn might have recalled their battles and noted the sword’s tendency to spring to life, hovering without hesitation into its master’s hands with ease and determination.

Judging by its position, Ahlayn might also wonder if Kael truly was so stressed as to keep his weapon so close by as he slept. Such methods were required out here in the perilous lands of a world literally falling apart by the very throes of magic. Kael could sense it every day, wracking his brain and feeding on his addiction. He had no way of knowing whether it was his strong resolve to go next.

Kael placed the man down steadily where he wanted, then adjusted the bandages on his leg. Once settled, he eased himself onto the bed and conjured two glasses of water, handing one to Ahlayn. “It’s not ideal, but it will tide us over until my scouts can locate a new reservoir.” He drank from the cup, then glanced at his friend. “You wished to speak with me in private. What is it?”

Verath smiled and even laughed a little when thinking of his strong willed family. “Oh yes, they do excel at what they do and I’m proud.”

He looks at his book again then back at the prince, “That’s wonderful, I enjoy the ones with a twist. As for poetry, I have been meaning to read more than just my son’s writings.”

“I cannot say I blame you for reading much more than that. Young Lirath is talented, though much more can be said about the hectic nature of our responsibilities,” Kael said. He moved over to the bookshelf nearby and scanned the various titles--some he had read before, others unfamiliar--until he placed his finger on one such book entitled Kindly Suggestions Regarding Power.

“Our libraries see a weekly circulation of books, both old and new. I dare say you shall never grow tired, as you are bound to find at least a title or two that suits your taste. He picked out the book and glanced it over. “This one seems to have been published fairly recently.”

He placed the book down on the table near a seat across from Verath and helped himself to a glass of water by a serving tray. He placed it beside his book, then fixed the lights on the chandelier so that they shone equally on the table below.

Kael was in his living quarters at Dalaran, organizing the tomes on his bookshelves, when he received the missive from a courier. He beamed at the contents, then gestured in the direction of his desk. A red-feathered quill came to life, dabbled itself in a bottle of ink that opened all at once, and took to writing a reply on a piece of parchment that flew in like a leaf on the surface of his desk.