Since I did not make a regular page, I must use things to comment on things, request to join communities, ect. This blog is for Jursol and is used for inspiration and RP blog, character on WRA. Available for discord anytime and planned RP in game. DM me and we can talk!
Jursol stood outside the ship as she ran her fingers over the flower bracelet on her wrist, her eyes no longer full of sorrow, but of hope. “Everything be as it should, but da Loa whisper of changes ta come.” She sighed heavily as she looked up at her raptors. “It be da way of things. Da eb and flow.”
One of the raptors nudged her as it made a soft sound as if speaking to her. Jursol smiled as she reached a hand to pat the raptors head. “Yes, soon we make land again and we shall hunt ta our hearts content once again.” Looking over the others as she gave each one a pat on the head. “Den we be makin our way once again on de seas till we reach our next destination.” Jursol moved to look over the side of the ship as she smiled taking in the sea air. “Der be new adventures ta be had. Thank da Loa for watching over us all dis time, and prey dey Loa continue ta watch over us. Whatever may come.”
(Jursol is making a return to in game and discord alike! She may appear slightly different but who doesn’t after so long!)
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(Look at the Jursy!!! All thanks to @syrista!!! I love this!!!! Though I am off WoW as a game, I am still doing some things via discord as certain characters!!!)
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A single shot rang clear through the promenade and entryways into the demonstrators pavilion on the outer edges of the Stormwind Gardens. Protestors and Supports alike for the swift rectification and proper reparation for all displaced Darnassians and Gilneans quickly scattered throughout the square as the unknown assailant undoubtedly fled among them.
Screams of panic and horror filled the streets shortly after, an unknown bystander had been struck. The hysterical citizens quickly dispersed the scene as the Stormwind Guard rushed into action.
Despite being only feet from the rally and potentially the shooter; when the victim was being attempted to be found; the guard came up empty.
The victim is being identified as Mr Nestor Blacksun; local shopkeeper and land owner. Blacksun was well known for his reading in the parks, and also contributions to both the Arts and Public affairs within the community. He will be missed deeply; his property remains in Guard custody pending a first of kin coming forward.
For more information please contact the local guardsman or contact our office here at the paper.
T.M Whitmore
Elsewhere....
Sitting in the alley between the darker and my seedy parts of the old district, Lazarius had ducked into a shipping warehouse, a trail of black liquid coagulating and skittering behind the shuffling of his feet.
The dark eyed Inquisitor clutched his stomach and with the other hand his chest; a third wound leaking from his shoulder continued to spill onto his robes with each pump of his decrepit black heart. He had no time to notify; no time to quarter relief and rescue; he slumped against the wall of the warehouse desperately
trying to quell the bleeding. But alas, he continued to evict copious amounts of his blackened miasma with every passing moment.
Short radio bursts of temporal energy rang across the cosmos, waves of energy being shot in every direction attempting to locate an ally, a friend or potentially someone that may have been hidden in the recesses of his mind until now.
No doubt among those quickly to sense something was terribly wrong were Raven, Pyravari and of course Brin. They would have heard, felt or sensed that their mentor/ brother / father was indeed in distress at that very moment.
But there was no time to notify location, scream out what had happened or even begun to send a doorway or gate to summon them to his location. Instead the dark eyed man would gaze deeply into the black abyss slowly clouding his vision as the parasite began attempting to seal the wounds and stave off its own inevitable demise.
This left Lazarius in a weakened and helpless state. Alone and without any type of aid, and slowly slipping into unconsciousness; he would calm himself into what was about to come.
“We can save it...”.
A disembodied voice said in the darkness of his mind.
“If it is left to perish surely then we will be free; allowed to conquer this world and countless others. Allow this one to expire; allow our reign to begin.”.
Came another dark and horrific voice resonating from the chaos of empty space in and around Lazarius’ mind.
“Alternatively, loss of the host could mean extinction. This is neither beneficial or intelligent if the result means total Annihilation of both species.”
Lazarius clung to the last remaining words; before now he’d never once heard anything like this; the closest was the whispers of the old gods but they were madness and incoherent ramblings, this was speech.
This was conscious and sentient life; this was conversation. He was among the voices of beings determining his life and death. His fate; his time; his reality was not dictated by anyone other than himself.
“I am unarguably certain that it is I...that is in control of my destiny...and will not be predicated to as if somehow my choice in the matter is inconsequential!”
And thusly in his last breath, Lazarius would burst in a radiant among of plasma and chemical reactions to erupt on a wave of gamma radiation, literally tearing a hole through the fabric of space and time; only to be forcefully ejected into the Bastille.
His body limply flung through the solid walls and into the infirmary where he ultimately fell into a state of total vegetation and was fully unconscious.
“The sound. That awful, tapping sound. That driving, piercing, almost mind numbing sound of metal on metal, teeth to bone, what is that. Gods be damned. Its Rhythmic. “
TAP TAP TAP TAP
“Why does it mock me? Why is it there? Why wont it leave? Who is that!”
TAP TAP TAP TAP
“It is there again. What is it! Why is it there? Gods be damned why cant I see!”
TAP TAP TAP DRIP
Some sounds are often amplified by the extreme given the situation, the location and the amount of vibration echoing from wall to wall. The Oubliette down in the darkest regions of the Bastille was something that only those who were destined for great things would see.
Sound traveled forever here. Or to the mind of someone who had been secured there for several days without food or water; without anything outside of their own thoughts, to that person, Sound was the most terrifying beast in existence.
Strung by his arms; rusted links of saronite secured around each hand, there was a moderately handsome elf. Or at least he was at one point. He was chained to the ceiling, his ankles also secured to the floor. From what it smelled like; it was a dank sewer. The smell of musty water and iron were heavy here. Almost over powering.
The prisoner could not see. He was blindfolded and was only able to use his sense of hearing and smell to determine what was happening. Again, sound being the greatest ally, but also the most horrific entity ever known.
The tapping sound came from the rats that were gnawing at the other bones of victims in other cells. Their own chain links rattling against the bars where they had ultimately been left to rot. There was no shame in this. Dark actions meant dark consequences.
The dripping sound; well that was something entirely different.
The elven prisoner would start to feel an overwhelming sense of pain come surging into his body from the back; unbeknownst to him he had already had his clothing removed, there was a reason for the pain. A large series of stitch marks went along both sides of his spine and neck; someone had already operated and repaired the tissue.
“HELLO!”
He cried as his senses started to return to him.
“HELLO! SOMEONE?”
The response that would come was not only unexpected, but would also be dreadfully terrifying to hear.
“Good Evening Mister Morningstar, I trust you are beginning to regain some of the sensation to your brain?”
[A short little piece of original writing. I have been away for a very long time; I do hope everyone is doing well during these trying times. I have missed writing with a lot of tumblr and discord friends. I hope to see some new faces in my in box, and old ones as well! Please enjoy this little piece of content. Love to you all! Lazarius! – ]
Lazarius Kashebahl.
That was the name that was signed at the bottom of the document. A set of dubious and wretched obsidian eyes would look along the strokes of the letters as the ink began to bleed into the parchment so perfectly. It was as if the venomous blackness was seeping out; crying even as it was signed along the rough edges of the papyrus. Lazarius hastily tore his attention away; opting to reach of a violet stick of wax that was held aloft a candle on his writing desk.
Whilst he turned the hexagonal object in his mummified fingers, his mind would slowly drift away from the current task at hand. There was a part of him that was fully unable to resist the urges of the past. Always some how finding his way back into the nightmares of his youth and even recent. But while he twirled the wax stick over the flame he would ponder, silent; alone, the rhythmic strumming of the great grandfather clocks pendulum keeping an even tempo.
A tempo that entranced and captivated him. A tempo that would rock his mind slowly into a state of surreal cerebral memory. A tempo of the past…
“Ser”
The voice of his trusted old companion would float toward him as he entered the Masters chambers holding a tray containing the various items needed for the days events.
Kross was always punctual. He was always there as he was needed. Lazarius was sitting at the drafting table looking over plans. Plans for the Bastille. Plans to change something that was ultimately going to prove to be an ordeal beyond which anyone was capable of fully completing. Typical for the young man to draft so intensely.
“Right on time as usual…” Lazarius whispered softly as he turned to glance over his shoulder at the regal steward.
“Your tea. And also a letter from your former–” .
Lazarius interrupted immediately. “I would prefer to remove the title from the name. Let us just say rather than ex-wife or former partner…we just leave it at… her.”
“Of course Ser, well another missive concerning the details of your recent interactions. It appears as though you are being invited to another of her exclusive gatherings.”
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Jursol walked down the paths made in the jungle as the raptors followed close behind. It was time for them to once again leave their jungle home. A boat was waiting to take them back to the main lands, then they’d be meeting an airship to finish the trip to their second home with The Nine. Jursol brushed her hands over the leaves and others flora as she sang an old song.
“De way, de way, de way be made, home we go, home we neva stay, take da tears, toss dem away, let da rivers run, da trees whispa, as spirits sing.....” Jursol stopped as she heard the raptors attempt to sing with her. A smile creeping to her face as she hummed along with them now. It was just one of many moments she truly enjoyed with her pack. Small things that would bring a smile to the older trolls face. Memories she will always treasure.
After some time they made it to the docks as they boarded the boat. It was a nice evening to be leaving, with still waters, beautiful sun, perfect temperature as well. Jursol and the raptors bid farewell once again to their jungle home as they huddled together. They were happy to be back, but also missed the company of the others.
As the ship set sail they offered a silent prayer to the Loa for safe passage. Soon enough they would be back with the others, and the raptors can once again chase small critters again in the tunnels for fun.
Time passed by as Jursol and her raptors hunted the jungles of Zandalar. It was peaceful there, away from the hustle of big cities, away from the troubles of rest of the world. Out there it was just them and nature. The air had gotten cooler as Autum set in.
As the raptors ran around over fallen leaves playing a mock hunting game, Jursol was hiding nearby waiting to leap out at them as they ran by. She had put on a leaf mask, special cloths in gold, yellows, and oranges, and had a large stick covered in fallen leaves and flowers. Waiting and watching as the raptors got closer and closer, holding her breath as she readied herself to jump. Once the group was in front of her she made her move, leaping out from her hiding spot yelling “GOTCHA!!!” As she waved her arms around in the air above her head. The older raptors panicked as they saw her leap out. While the one leaped onto Mawa as he made a strange sound caused her to snap her jaws at the air. Jursol was laughing as she took the mask off smiling ear to ear. “It just be me!!! I be winning dis hunt now!!!” Her hands moved to touch the little raptor as she swooped him up into her arms. “And dis be my prize!” The raptors seemed entertained as they began to inch closer to her as if stalking. “Hey now, dat be cheating! Plus I can see jo clearly stalking forward.....” She cut off as she grinned slyliy. “Oh, dis be treason!” The pack began to prepare to run as Jursol held the baby raptor and dashed forward laughing. Clearly the game was not over yet.
They would miss days like this once the peace once again is taken away. For now however, they would enjoy this time together bonding.
Jursol had been busy tending to the little guy ever since. Herbs, potions, bandages over his eyes and body, she was trying everything to save him. “Drink dis little one, it be good for ya.” Her voice was calm and soft as she used a bamboo straw to feed him mashed up food. A bit of medication mixed in to prevent infections. Slowly the little raptor started to try and use his tiny voice. He was a fighter that’s for sure. Now and then he tried to bite at her fingers as she fed him.
A few days later Jursol started to remove the bandages and inspect the injuries. Everything seemed good so far, but his eyes were not healed enough yet.
Mawa was hovering over Jursol and the little one watching everything she did. She was worried for the little one and had been helping in her own way. Snuggling the baby at night, hunting for food to bring back, Mawa was even trying to talk to the little guy as if he was her own. It was such a precious site to behold. All of them worked together to help the little guy, as a pack should. They were a family.
Days went by and the little one got stronger and stronger. He was eating regular food with his tiny teeth at this point, and would try and play with the other raptors. It seemed to be time to remove the bandages from over his eyes. All the other injuries seemed to have healed nicely so far. ”Come ere little one!” She called out as Mawa guided him to her side. “It be time ta see how jo eyes be healin.” Slowly moving to pick him up in her strong arms as she smiled. Her hand began to unwrap the bandage as she prayed to the Loa silently. As the last of the wrap fell to the ground, she waited for him to open his eyes. “Come on little guy, it be time ta show me da beautiful eyes.” It was a long moment as she and the rest of the pack waited. His eyes slowly started to open as he looked around for the first time at them all. Jursol inspected his eyes carefully as she sighed softly. “Dis be ya family now little one.” The eyes were glossed over a bit, making it clear he was going to have a hard time seeing. While this was not great, it was not all bad either. He was safe with her and the pack, and they would be his eyes when needed. Teach him all he needs to know over time.
Soon enough they would once again leave Zandalar, but for now, they would enjoy the peace a little longer, together, as a family.
This was a long needed break from everything going on. They had went back to her old hunting grounds near her old hut. So it was something they still felt was home. Even the storm was familiar for them. It was pitch black outside, cold, rainy, a night most would hide out inside where it’s dry and warm. Jursol was not like others. She and her pack of raptors sat outside listening to the rain falling on the forest canopy, rain drops falling on their heads as the raptors tried to bite at the falling droplets. The Zandelari sat near them watching in amusement as they enjoyed this fine night, moving to join the fun after observing for a bit. Her body began to sway to the sounds of night music as she hummed happily. Everything was going well for a while till the storm suddenly got worse. Thunder boomed in the clouds as lighting started crashing in the sky. The pack of raptors looked to Jursol, who was already rushing them back to safety. Moving into her old hut as the raptors huddled together, their eyes watching Jursol as she made a fire to dry and warm them up. Outside the storm was just pounding the jungle. Jursol was nosy as one can be and went to look out a small window. For a moment she remembered her time caring for an elf she had rescued, and come to trust over their time working together. Her mind started to wonder on this.
*BOOM!* Jursol and the raptors all jumped startled by the loud sound that seemed like an explosion. The Zandalari’s raptor like eyes saw happened. Rushing out her door into the storm as she looked in horror. Lighting had struck a tree that was used for hiding stolen gun power!!! “Dis be bad, very bad.” Speaking to herself as she ran back in. They were not near the danger zone, but she was unsure who or what animals may have been. Her raptors looks to her when she came back in and knew something was wrong. Each one moved to stand in front of her as if waiting for orders. A wave of her hand had them ready to act. “We be helpin now. Spread out, find any survivors. Bring dem to me. Animal or otherwise. Herd dem if need be. Let us be goin!” Her voice was full of determination as the group ran out the door to the fire. Many animals were rushing and scrambling to find a safe place to hide. Raptors could smell them and did everything to make them move, but if all else failed they’d call for Jursol. She was doing her part as well as she tried to deal with the fire. Grabbing a huge handful of the wet dirt, or well mud at this point, her large clawed arm began tossing it at the fires base. One raptor moved to her side and started to dig a hole around the tree, as another brought her a bucket of water. Grabbing it from the raptor as she used that to fill up the hold. “We be needin more!” Yelling as she ran to the nearest water source, before running to collect it and get back. The raptors noticed and started to help by packin the mud onto the fire, each getting burns from doing so. Rain still pouring down probably helped a lot with this. Jursol noticed the raptors were being hurt and motioned for them to stop. She took over as slowly the fire was dying. Jursol continued to put it out until there was noting left of risk. By the end her arms were cover in burns. Mawa moved to her side nudging her back. “Mawa, I be alright.” She said petting the raptor. “A few burns not be killing me.” While it was clear she was in pain, she would live. A wave of her arm and they were off headed back to the hut. The animals that were near the fire were fine, none even got a burn. Sadly one of her raptors had found something left behind during the panic. A small baby raptor!!! His eyes seemed damaged badly, and he had burns that needed to be treated. Reaching out for it as she took the unconscious baby in her arm. “He be needin treatment before we be findin da motha. Glancing to her side she noticed a body, badly burned. A closer inspection showed it was a raptor. Female. Probably the babies mother. Her heart sank as she started to head for her hut. “Dis be a bad first meeting little one. Jo be safe now. Once back at the hut his healing would begin.
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