#rhianon

(( DWC February 2026, Day 2, Hide/Golden, @daily-writing-challenge CW: none ))

Dolraan stretched his neck, turning side to side to remove some of the discomfort from a few hours of focused work. The soft whirring of the small, crystal-powered buffer wheel filled his office as he set his magnifying lenses and gently applied the golden hoop to the wheel, restoring its shine after plenty of grinding and sanding.

It wasn't uncommon for jewellery worn in a fight to suffer damage, any adventurer worth their salt knew that. Soft metals and carefully cut gems could only be made so tough with magic before it interfered with the power they could imbue after all. But when it came to his wife's jewellery, he always insisted on performing the repairs himself.

Pulling the hoop away from the buffing wheel, he examined it with his magnifier in the light. A perfect, unmarred shine, as though it had never been sundered when that elemental had taken unexpected offense to their presence. He smiled in satisfaction as he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, another beautiful repair, my darling." Rhianon said, placing her head on his shoulder and pressing her cheek to his as she looked at the earring. "You spoil me."

"Yes and no, to be honest, there's something truly relaxing about making or fixing one of my pieces. There's no squires running around, no sergeants in need of orders, no endless piles of paperwork needing my attention. Just me, my tools, and the gold," he replied, sighing and leaning into her embrace. "And I suspect I'm going to want to build up as much relaxation as I can before the other shoe drops."

"Ah, so you have been listening to my wisdom?" she grinned as she took the earrings, returning them to their rightful place on her ears. "Sadly, I'm here with news that Alynore has a new set of reports for your eyes, and has already arranged dinner to be served in the war room, and I must sadly attend my fellow shaman in tonight's soil cleansing ritual."

Dolraan groaned in frustration, that level of forethought meant it was going to be a long night ahead. "Thank you, my love. I will see you late tonight, assuming I survive."

HEHEHE I LOVE YOUUUU

(( DWC November 2025, Day 6, Echo/Wilt, @daily-writing-challenge CW: none ))

The Plaguewood. One of the most enduring harms upon the Eastern Kingdoms, second only to the dead scar. Oppressive heat and humidity at all times thanks to the twisted, poison fungus that had overcome so many of the trees, and consumed the other plant life. Restless dead constantly restored by the plague that infects the very soil. Every creature within, living and unliving, a vector for the plague that claimed Lordaeron.

(( DWC August 2025, Day 4, Direction/Languish, @daily-writing-challenge CW: none ))

Across the sands of the ruined world of K'aresh, heroes and mercenaries battled against the forces of the void, seeking to prevent the rise of Dimensius, and aid the friendly brokers and ethereals in reclaiming their home.

Far from there, in Light's Hope chapel, Dolraan sighed in frustration, reading the reports that were waiting for him. The champion who'd faced foes from the Lich King to the world soul of Argus had only recently returned from Khaz Algar, and his frustration was obvious for all to see.

DWC November 2022 Day 5: Lush/Damage @daily-writing-challenge

Dolraan nodded to the various shaman, druids, and priests who shuffled out of the meeting room, and sighed as he gathered up the documents he'd spread out during the meeting. While tedious, the monthly progress meetings on the efforts to heal the damage suffered by the plaguelands were among his favorite duties. It felt good to be able to discuss the progress that was making in healing the lands, and how to allocate their efforts for the month to come, in his case arranging crusaders to provide protection to the druids and shaman as they did their work.

"Slowly but surely, we're turning the land green again. Emphasis on the slowly." he muttered to himself, relaxing back in his chair. Between the severity of the plaguing on the land, and the efforts of the two-silver lich king wannabes popping up here and there, the corruption of eastern Lordaeron had proven to be particularly resilient. If nothing else, it had given him something to focus on. Three years since returning from the shadowlands, and no great threat or grand war had raised its head.

It turned out that peace looked a lot like work meetings, training, and one other thing that was much more delightful than those two, Dolraan thought as he heard the door open, and felt a pair of hands reach around him from behind, hugging him tightly. He opened his eyes and placed his hand over Rhianon's, their rings matching in the steady light of the wall lamps. "Hello my love, how went your morning?" he asked, pulling her hand up to his lips for a kiss.

"Swimmingly," she replied, giggling. "You'll be happy to know your new recruits are now fully acclimated to moving and fighting while under the effects of water breathing. Most of them barely panicked at all. And now, my afternoon is free," she continued pointedly, moving around the chair so she could plop herself on his lap. Their fingers intertwined as he shifted to let her sit comfortably, and hugged her close.

"What a conincidence," he declared, then raised his voice towards the half closed door to his office, where his adjutant was hard at work. "My afternoon is clear as well, my beloved wife!" he grinned as he saw Wyota's head peak out through the door, then offer him a big tauren thumbs up to let him know she would see it done.

Today, he sat in the golden fields of Bastion, his wife at his side, her hand gently entwined with his own, and together they enjoyed the ephemeral breeze that rustled the beautiful grass. A moment of peace as reward for a job well done.assion, was seeking to bring a better purpose to the Shadowlands than simply powering some great eldritch machine. Sylvanas had been judged, sent into the Maw for an eternity of service, rescuing every soul bound there, supporting Pelagos' judgment that no soul's sins could possibly earn them such a terrible, eternal fate. Peace and purpose had returned to the covenants, and the injustices of death were being addressed.

There was no doubt in Dolraan's mind that some new threat, some new mystery would appear ere long. Though he labored endlessly towards it, a world at peace was something that would ever require heroes to stand to protect it even if it could be achieved. But that was for tomorrow.