August DWC 2025
Day Two – Wither/Layer
The hills gave him distance enough to see Withermore whole. Dreadmist Peak rose above the province of Redridge, its slopes painted in the soil’s muted crimson, the forests dark as spilled ink beneath the fading light. Mist pooled in the valleys, rising and curling like restless ghosts, just as it always did in morning and evening. Below, the river shone silver as it cut along the mountainside, carving its quiet path toward the world beyond.
The estate itself stood stark against it all, walls sharp and bare, windows dim. The manor was no home in the ordinary sense. Its halls had been as spare as its master: dark colors, dim lights, decorations few and severe. Purple-black plants curling from stone urns had been the only splashes of life. Still, Stone had come to know those walls, to find order and discipline within them, to serve. To endure.
His hand rested against the revolver on his hip, the custom made six-shot Cade Highflare had given him. The weight was familiar now and grounding for him in this moment. The memory stirred sharp and clear. Smoke in the air, the world raw with victory and loss but at last there was calm over Withermore. Cade’s voice steady as he'd come to know it reflected within his memory. "You came here a sellsword, nothing more. But honor guides you more than coin, and in the depths with my father you turned the tide. Without you, we would not have stood triumphant. From this day, you are Stone the Blood Breaker. And this," the revolver pressed into his hand now, "...may it serve you well, just as you serve us."
Stone had said nothing then as the title, the weapon, the weight of it all had been enough. Much like the weight of coming to know each of Vynlorin's Elite. They had each earned a place within Stone's loyalties without asking or trying but simply as comrades in arms despite how estranged they each were. It was nothing like it had been of his life in Suramar with his own Elite forces and in many ways he struggled while here. But he'd learned to adapt and accept them each for who they were and the silences they each carried much like his own.
Now, watching from afar, he let it settle into him again. The layers of armor he had worn during his time in Withermore, the silence he had cultivated, the walls mirrored in Vynlorin and in every servant of the house for that matter. Layers upon layers, as sharp as the mountains themselves. And yet... fondness. For Cade, for Roma, For Sin, Aleron and even Elexie. For those mountain people who had not trusted him, who had looked at him always as an outsider, but who, in the end, had allowed him to protect them. Fondness for the harshness that had made him harder as he was a stranger in a strange land, and for the rare warmth that had softened him too found in Elexie's morning coffee's and gentle talks.
But he had chosen to leave. To trade certainty for potential companionship. To let this chapter wither so another might grow.
Stone drew a slow breath, mist curling low across the slopes. He let his hand fall from the revolver. The revolver was his still. The title was his still. But the estate in Dreadmist peak, the mountains, the barony, they were all no longer his to protect as he'd made the choice to try another life.
He turned from Withermore’s calm quiet silhouette on the peak and walked into the gathering night with the very last of his things, carrying both the weight of its memory and the warmth of what lay ahead.
((A small ode to Stone's time within Withermore and the people he'd come to know there as he sadly parted ways with them after choosing his own path in life. A story I greatly enjoyed writing and rping live in game over the course of this year. Good people and great rp, my thanks to them all for letting Stone's story continue on with them.))
@daily-writing-challenge @shandaumath
((Farewells in RP make the writing that much more real and meaningful and impactful. Today is a farewell to Vynlorin’s bodyguard, Stone, but they will certainly cross paths many more times in the future. 🍷))
