#dwc2023

DAILY WRITING CHALLENGE 2023 IS BACK!

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO USE THE ACTUAL WORD FOR THIS CHALLENGE, YOU MAY SIMPLY BASE YOUR STORY AROUND ONE OF THESE IDEAS!

Choose one or both words/IDEAS and write a story, drabble, poem, or anything else once a day, every day, for a week!

Tag @daily-writing-challenge so we can reblog your stories.

Write the number day/challenge somewhere on your story.

LIST CONTENT WARNINGS VISIBLY ABOVE STORY! (Use a ‘read more’ line if content gets too graphic.)

Tags that will be used: #maydwc2023,  #maydayX2023 (X=whatever number day you’re writing for), #yourtumblrurl

There will be no optional challenges for the weekly DWC’s, but please feel free to make up some of your own challenges!

The next writing challenge will be in MAY!

CLICK HERE FOR OTHER IMPORTANT INFORMATION!

Good luck and more importantly, HAVE FUN! Encourage your fellow writers and show them some love and support with likes/reblogs/comments!

We look forward to reading some amazing writing!

((Written word list below the cut))

Vixannya’s gallery itself was meant to warn against overindulgence in sin, yet the afterparty explicitly promoted A LOT of sin. It was all on purpose, of course, that was her brilliance. At least no one died, although surely quite a few felt like death when they awoke the following morning or afternoon. Thankfully, Ryland was still young and spry, so alcohol and drugs didn’t readily leave their lasting effect on him for very long.

The first half of the night was strictly for work, so he chose not to indulge as that would hardly be conducive to performing on various aerial apparatuses. He enjoyed showing off on the lyra and the pole, and then later partaking in some fun for those playing voyeur in the peep shows. Envy truly was the perfect sin for him to represent, whether it was making others want to be that other person with him, or even want to be him. Which, in retrospect, was ironic given he had spent the first half of his life wanting to be someone else.

The latter half of the night was spent committing just about every other sin. When he woke up butt naked in Vixannya’s bed he wasn’t surprised, even if he didn’t remember actually getting from Point A to Point B. Sera was there too, and…some other nude form he didn’t quite recognize. Totally normal.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he wandered into her kitchen and helped himself to the cup of coffee waiting for him. Annya herself was already awake, looking somehow perfectly rested and not at all hungover. There were a few other sleeping bodies scattered about in various states of undress. Really just like any other gallery ‘after-afterparty’ he attended. No one would ask questions, what happened, happened, and would never leave this flat.

Annya ruffled a hand through his hair, “You’re looking better than last time.”

“Am I? Not sure I’m feeling better. You really outdid yourself this time, an absolute success”

She simply smirked into her mug before taking a sip. She knew. “You drew quite the crowd in those peep shows, you know. Thought I was going to have to start hosing them down.” A brief pause before she turned to look out towards her living area, “Speaking of hosing down, help me throw these strangers out? They can go sleep off their hangovers elsewhere.” She flicked her fingers towards the mass of after-afterparty guests. “If you get Sera to help I’ll have you boys pampered for the rest of the day.” “Yes ma’am!” Annya truly was an excellent sugar mama.

At this age, Garren knew that he had plenty of time to discover his life’s purpose. The feelings of uncertainty and of being lost were probably normal, especially given his own past and the collective, recent past of the Kaldorei. Even to this day many of them were still considered refugees, having no true place to call home and merely bouncing around like vagabonds. Yes, he had a small apartment in Dalaran now thanks to his father, Xylaes, but it wasn’t really home, was it? It had never felt like home. Nowhere had, except Darnassus, and there was no going back there.

So when he first stepped through the portal into the Emerald Dream and witnessed Amirdrassil for the first time, the abrupt wave of emotion told him everything he needed to know. 

This was home.

His once lackadaisical approach to the mercenary work had flipped in that moment. He would do everything and anything to protect this new tree, including giving his own life if necessary. The handful of other Kaldorei in the crew had felt the same pull, this had become extremely personal to all of them. To his credit, Xylaes had recognized the importance of this moment immediately and eagerly adopted and matched his son’s sudden passion. Despite being a Sin’dorei, the older man knew what this meant to Garren and would, naturally, put his own life on the line first.

They set up their camp near the Central Encampment where both military and other mercenary crews had collected for safety. It was difficult for Garren to keep his eyes focused on the ground when all they wanted to do was drift skyward to gaze at the massive World Tree growing above. It was almost impossible to differentiate between leaves and sky, the two blending in luminous harmony and emanating a feeling of tranquility. It was so easy to forget what was going on when everything felt so at peace. The days to come would bring fire and death, something Garren was all too familiar with, but at least in this moment he could cherish the serenity.

Even in the middle of the night the Encampment was abuzz with anticipation of what was to come, but Garren managed to find himself a quiet corner of the world, near one of Amirdrassil’s massive roots. Tenderly, he tugged off his gloves, one finger at a time before setting the pair aside. A hand hovered over the root, the energy radiating from the powerful being sent a chill up his spine. Almost reluctantly he flattened his palm against the bark, and at that exact moment he felt a hand press atop his bare shoulder. Immediately he startled and fell backwards over his pack as he frantically searched around for whomever had disturbed his privacy.  No one was there.  At least no one that he could see.

With a furrow in his brow, he shifted to face the tree once more, pressing a hand against it without hesitation. The feeling of warmth, love, and home was present, a sensation he hadn’t felt since… 

His breath caught in his throat. He knew this tree was born of the souls of those lost in Teldrassil. He had lost so many friends there, and the only family he had ever known for the vast majority of his life. It had to be…

“...Grandma, grandpa?”

The tree glowed beneath his touch.

No photograph nor verbal description of the Emerald Dream could ever do it justice, this was something everyone needed to see first hand for themselves. Dicenne had a good excuse to do so, as with other campaigns he would go and offer his blacksmithing services to help with repairs for broken weapons and armor. He had brought his own armor and weapons too, just in case.

He had been an on and off member of Talonoa’s mercenary crew for years now. After having spent so much time in the military, it was difficult to completely give up that lifestyle, and a mercenary crew suited him much better. The majority of the group were ex-military themselves, so it operated in a similar, albeit less strict manner of what he was already accustomed to.

Dicenne had set up his camp with them, focusing first on their repairs and then wandering about the other mercenary units to see if anyone needed his services. Despite never asking for gold, doing this had become quite the profitable endeavor. Mercenaries were great about tipping, and often followed up post-campaign with visits to his shop to get more repairs or new weapons.

One late evening, he found himself lounging near the communal fire with eyes focused upwards on Amirdrassil herself. She was a thing of beauty for certain, and born of the souls from her predecessor. A fresh start for the Kaldorei. It made him wonder if maybe the Sin’dorei should have done the same with their own city; while not all of Silvermoon had been destroyed by the Scourge, the memories that clung onto that place were difficult to move past at times.

His gaze fell onto the only remaining member of the crew still up and looking towards Amirdrassil with a thousand-yard stare. With the way the fire and shadows highlighted the half-Kaldorei’s angular jaw and shape of his nose, it was easy to see the resemblance to the young man’s father. He was never actually told that Garren was Xylaes’s son, but the observant could easily figure it out.

“You were there, right?”

Garren’s eyes drifted down to look at Dicenne, giving a slow nod of his head. There was no need to question what ‘there’ meant in this situation, it was obvious he was speaking of Teldrassil.

“I’m sorry for what you had to go through. How are you, are you doing okay here?”

Garren shrugged out of habit, but eventually spoke as his gaze drifted skywards once more. “I’m afraid of what will happen to us if we can’t save the tree.”

Dicenne nodded in agreement, “Me too, but I have faith. Practically the entire world wants, no needs, to see this all succeed, and I think we will.”

“How can you be so optimistic?” 

It was Dice’s turn to shrug. “Better than the alternative options, yeah? It’s not a belief that things will automatically get better, it’s a conviction that we can make things better.”

Garren offered a small smile in response, looking up once more. “My grandparents are a part of this. They died in Teldrassil, and now they’re here. I feel like I’m meant to be here too, with them. Together again.”

A part of Dice wondered if he spoke like this with Xylaes. Probably not. In a way, he almost felt guilty. “I’m sure they are very proud of you for being here and helping. You should be proud of yourself too, this is a huge moment in history.” 

The words clearly resonated with Garren, and shortly after the young elf excused himself for the evening, leaving Dicenne alone by the fire. In all honesty, the words had resonated with himself as well. He was never great at staying on the sidelines when he knew his friends could use his help. Maybe it was time he strapped his armor back on and threw himself into the fray.

It had been some time since Rhys had socialized with any of his fellow Tarts. There were a lot of new faces he had never met, who no doubt had no idea he was a ‘behind the scenes’ member of the troupe. He picked things up and put things down, and helped to build various props and set pieces for the performers. It was a rare occasion to find him helping at any events due to his rigorous work schedule on the farm, but he was well overdue for some socializing and Dicenne’s Harvest Celebration was just the event for it.

There was a moment prior to his arrival where he almost turned around and left, worried that he wouldn’t fit in or that there would be too many questions about Aurelia. While on paper she was the daughter of the family he worked for, the Padleys, in reality she was Mrs. Padley and Rhys’s own daughter. It was quite the scandal among the farms in Elwynn Forest, but the more he learned of the local drama, the more he realized this was quite typical. Apparently attractive, young farmhands often found themselves the target of the wives of Elwynn Forest. 

The squeeze from the small hand held within his own gave him the courage he needed to keep going, and he was glad for it. Everyone was so welcoming and had no expectations, and while some may have raised their eyebrows regarding him having a daughter, it wasn’t because they were being judgmental, but only because they had no idea in the first place. She was quickly accepted into the Tart family and made fast friends with Lynesse’s similarly-aged son, Ash.

After dinner, the two sat together in a nearby grassy area where Aurelia introduced Ash to a local bunny family by name that she had just met, while Ash made the grass grow longer for their new furry friends to munch on simply by asking it politely to do so. Everyone had found it endearing, but also quite intriguing since the duo clearly displayed some serious prowess in magic. 

This was the first time that others had questioned his daughter’s skills, wondering if she was able to commune and understand all animals. Is that what she was doing? Is that what he had been doing? He always felt a kinship with the farm animals that he took care of, often finding them easier to ‘understand’ than most people. Not to mention they usually did what he asked of them. Was that magic? He just had assumed he was always good with animals and had passed that compassion down to Lia. She had a tendency to attract animals of all varieties, and Rhys had never feared them bringing harm to her.

Maybe he wasn’t as completely useless as he had felt for so much of his life. The orphan boy who couldn’t even speak until the age of ten, was never adopted, failed most of his studies; he never had much confidence in himself and could do nothing right. Until now. He did at least one thing right, and she was perfect.

The Emerald Dream truly was a green thumb’s paradise, and Taric couldn’t resist answering the call. No matter how much he tried to pull away from the dangerous areas and the fighting, this particular campaign had proved far too tempting for him. The Emerald Dream had always been out of reach for the vast majority of the world, so the opportunity to see it in its full glory, along with a World Tree, would be silly to pass up.

He entered and set up camp with Red’s crew, although made certain to let them know he would not be participating in battle this time. The man wasn’t a fighter, he could fight, but he preferred only doing so in self-defense. He was strictly here to study the foliage and collect samples and seeds to hopefully use for alchemy purposes. The same plants existed within the Dream that also existed in that particular part of the waking world, yet they were at the same time strangely different. 

The first time he went to gather a sample of hochenblume, the entire plant jumped out of the ground and scurried off, leaving him confused and honestly a bit hesitant to try that again. Clearly the plant did not enjoy that one bit. Future possible samples would be given a little shake prior to taking any snippings, just in case.

When not out collecting, he made and distributed potions and salves to not only the crew’s camp, but to others in need as well. He had a bit of healing Light magic he could perform on smaller wounds and was more than happy to aid in the menial tasks so the fighters could get enough rest.

The thought of being set ablaze by Fyrakk’s shadowflame was always lingering in the back of his mind, but after spending time within The Maw, this felt like a cakewalk. Of course, he never traveled further north to witness the full spectrum of horrors, but seeing the wounded and weary return told him more than enough. As easy as it was to get lost to the Dream’s beauty, failing here meant everything would fall to flame.

Fingers ran along the thick coat of Shabby, the once stray cat, now completely settled into his domestic life within the small Silvermoon City apartment. Kara’s foot bounced to the Winter Veil music playing from her record player as she occasionally sang made-up lyrics towards Shabby himself about what a good and fat boy he was. She had finished decorating weeks ago for the holiday, and honestly considered just leaving it up all year long since colorful lights and the baked-goods scented candles were absolutely her aesthetic.

Although all of that came to a screeching halt when there was a sudden knock at the door. Kara stilled completely as her attention darted towards the closed and locked door, slowly reaching for the record player to turn the music down. She wasn’t expecting any visitors, and while it was likely something or someone completely harmless outside that door, she couldn’t help the spike in anxiety that suddenly took hold. Pressing a finger to her lips, as if Shabby would know what that meant, she stood up and tiptoed over to peek through the peephole.

No one was there, but maybe someone could still be there just hiding out of sight. She kept her gaze plastered to that peephole for five minutes….ten minutes. Still nothing. Surely whoever was there had left by now. Fingers curled around the pepper spray she kept on a nearby shelf, then unlocked and swung the door open in one quick swoop. Eyes darted left, then right, and then down at…

Flowers?

Her nose wrinkled in confusion as she set the can of pepper spray back on its shelf and picked up the bouquet of shimmery violet and white flowers arranged within a Winter Veil vase. The door was shut and locked, unlocked, then locked again just for good measure before she walked the flowers over to her table. The card was plucked from its holder and in fancy script read:

‘You’ve always been my favorite Amberlight. ~Your Secret Admirer’

Her cheeks flushed as she pressed the note to her chest, the anxiety now completely gone and replaced with something much happier and warmer. “Shaaaaabbyyyy, did you buy me flowers?” Said in a singsong voice as she looked around for the cat, who was now on the table chewing on the flowers. “Shabby, no! Silly boy, those are not good for you!” The cat was scooped up off the table and promptly spun about the living space with her as she danced to the holiday tunes.

This was going to keep her in good spirits for days to come!

tw: brief murder in 1st paragraph

Pollux silently emerged from the shadows behind the Druid of the Flame currently protecting and shielding the flame ward, covering the druid’s mouth with a gloved hand from behind while expertly driving his dagger into the jugular. It didn’t take long for the druid to fall dead at his feet, at the exact same time three others did as well, thanks to the rest of Pollux’s team.

The four members of the Elite Forces placed explosives along the ward before stepping back to shoot a flare up into the air, signaling it was safe for Alexstrasza to destroy the final ward. The four melded back into the shadows and headed towards their rendezvous point a safe distance away from the incoming blast.

“That was easy.” Gaz remarked as they watched Alexstrasza ignite their explosives with a breath of flame, destroying the ward in a fiery eruption.

“They’re unorganized…” Pollux’s attention darted up towards the sky in search of other dangers, mainly Fyrakk. Unorganized, yes, but also completely unpredictable which made the whole situation extremely dangerous. He prided himself in often being able to predict what his enemies might do, but with this particular one it was almost impossible.

“Do you think it’ll work?”

The portals to the Emerald Dream had been blocked for nearly a week at this point, no one was able to enter and no one was able to leave. Supplies had been cut off, as had any extra aid. It wasn’t a good position to be in, but eventually a possible solution had been found. It was now or never, especially since Fyrakk had become more and more agitated with impatience. There was no telling what he would do next.

“It’s all we have right now, so let’s just hope the portal goes back up and reinforcements are able to get through…in time. If not, we’ll go to plan B.”

“What’s plan B?” Baen smirked at Pollux, almost anticipating the answer. Pollux grinned in return, flourishing daggers in both hands, “Today is a good day to die, my friends.” With a sharp whistle, four dragons emerged from the skies and landed just long enough to pick up their respective riders before heading back towards the battlefield. It was time for him to get his hands extra dirty.