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𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥

@undeadxdarkspear-blog / undeadxdarkspear-blog.tumblr.com

Supposed to be 𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝑦, but I'm only getting 𝔠𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔢𝔯.    Wear a 𝔰𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔢 on my face, but there's a 𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫 inside.
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windwxlker-blog-deactivated2022

“So, uh, watcha been up t’ lately?”

Arzog had been oddly quite over their meal; perhaps coming into the presence of Akirlia again had made him uneasy, given their history, and while the Draenei new that, she was still warm, welcoming. By the Light, she’d missed him, and she just wanted to make sure he was alright. But even as he barely touched his food {which was an oddity, as far as she remembered} the monk decided that maybe the open air was a better place for them to be.

“Eh, just trying to find a place I really like, you know? After being on Draenor for so long, I finally decided to figure out where I’m supposed to be.” There was a slight curve to her lips, a small frown crossing her features. “It took a while, getting my father back to the Exodar from there…it was terrible; his entire family had been lost to the Iron Horde.”

Arzog’s lich-fire eyes flickered to the woman, sensing the pain in her voice, seeing it very clearly upon her features. Instinct told him to take her into his arms, give her a comforting hug…but would she even accept that? It was one thing for her to hug him; their past relationship had been nothing but her comforting him…but as much of a monster as he had been, would she accept affection of any sort from the troll?

However, his second guessing lost him the opportunity, as her tone took on a brighter note, her eyes back to their usual glimmer. By the spirits, she was pretty, Arzog thought as she continued to chatter on, lips curving into their usual smile. Had he been living, his face would have darkened into the deepest of blushes, but thankfully, there was only a fondness that the Draenei was oblivious to.

“What about you?” she asked, bringing Arzog out of his daydream, causing him to jump slightly, clearing his throat. “I know you’ve done more than just keep away from everyone. No one can be alone for so long, even if you’re with Skullslinger and Rascal.”

Lich-fire eyes glanced to his dog, whose drooping eyes looked back to him, almost encouraging him to open up. A heavy hand reached to the back of his neck, rubbing his skin absentmindedly, and though he avoided Akirlia’s gaze, he wanted nothing more than to look into them.

“Ah saw meh mum,” he murmured, brows furrowed together. “Went t’ Stranglethorn Vale after we…ah, before Ah started travelin’…she was ‘appy t’ see me, after given’ me a good smack on da ‘ead wit’ ‘er mace. She encouraged me t’ go search mahself, so Ah went t’ Booty Bay, where Ah met Kyana.”

Shit. Why did he mention Kyana? Sure, she had helped him clear his head, figure out where he wanted to be, especially being a Death Knight herself, but would Akirlia think that they were…

“She ‘elped me get mah ‘ead on straight,” he added quickly, side-glancing at the Draenei, who was watching him curiously. There was a hint of amusement on her features, as though she could see right through him, and that thought caused Arzog to panic more. Could she see how he still felt? Shit, shit, shit! He didn’t need this yet.

“She ‘ad ah ‘usband an’ a little girl who ‘e wouldn’ let ‘er see, so Ah ‘elped ‘er see ‘er kid again,” he continued, just as fast as before. Akirlia was surprised he hadn’t yet stumbled over his words, but his actions and expressions seemed oddly off, almost awkward, which caused her smile to spread even further.

“Was she pretty?” she asked casually, causing the troll’s features to erupt into something akin to horror. “Give me details, Arzog, I want to know!”

“She wasn’t!” That was a downright lie, and he knew that Akirlia could see it. “Well, ya, she was pretty,” he continued grumpily, nose wrinkling as he folded his arms over his broad chest. “But she ain’t like you are.”

Fuck.

Slowly, he glanced at Akirlia, and the moment he saw her smug features, he wished he could have evaporated on the spot. He had said what she was waiting to hear; his attraction was too obvious to her, and her smile grew even wider as a soft chuckle escaped her lips.

“Are you staying anywhere?” she asked offhandedly, shrugging her shoulders as though nothing happened, though the grin still remained on her lips. Clearly not amused with Akirlia’s antics–spirits, how he missed her spunk–Arzog’s lips frowned around his great tusks, and he huffed glancing away.

“Nah, ‘aven’t gotten ‘round t’ findin’ ah place, girlie.”

“Well, looks like you’re staying with me then,” she replied, nonchalantly. “No use spending money when you’ve got a friend here in the city. That would be stupid.”

Turning on Akirlia, Arzog had just opened his mouth to retort when suddenly her finger was on his cold lips, silencing him before he could even say a word. Ears drooping angrily, his eyes narrowed as he shut his mouth, pouting in Akirlia’s direction. Amused, no doubt by his childish expression, she pinched his lower lip between her fingers, tugging lightly before booping his nose with her own.

“No arguing, Kurenai,” she mused, tugging his lip once more before releasing it. Sniffing, Arzog reached to rub it, straightening to his full height, causing Akirlia to crane her neck backwards to get a good look at him.

“Come on, you weirdo,” she mused, tugging on his hand. “Let’s get back to my place. Get your feet up and a comfy couch. And out of that plate, it looks like it could use a good cleaning.” Pausing for a moment, a wicked grin suddenly lit up her features, causing Arzog’s eyes to widen, his ears drooping further down. But before he could say a word, she had turned away, and Arzog couldn’t help but to watch her swinging hips as she walked. 

“You know making yourself big like that isn’t going to intimidate me,” she called, glancing over her shoulder. “I have a thing for big, tall guys.”

#drabble#long post
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Reblogged protectoralyndrah-blog

@protectoralyndrah

Alyndrah had only wanted some extra ore for a set of rings someone had begged her for. She was such a sucker sometimes, she’d bend over backwards for some people as long as they said please. Did some take advantage of that? Yes. Did she know it? Yes. Did she help regardless? Of course, it was simply in her nature. But she’d run into some trouble when she had entered the cave, for one, it was a massive system of maze-like caverns that didn’t seem to end, and it was not empty. She had been ambushed by a pack of feral wolves, though she had managed to fight them off, sending them running, the sighting of such aggressive wolves in a cavern no less troubled her. They attacked as if they had been ordered, there hadn’t been a warning growl, or anything of that sort. They had simply lunged for the kill. Perhaps it hadn’t been there before, or perhaps she’d been ignoring it, but something suddenly felt wrong within the cave system. Pursing her lips, she decided to make her way out, only to stumble upon a troll that she hadn’t seen in the caves before. Her first thought was that he was injured, she quickly took a step closer, worry clear in her features. She holstered her axe, but kept her shield in hand, in case the troll attacked out of knee-jerk reaction. “Are you okay?” Alyndrah asked as she neared the slumped figure, there was dirt on her face and in her blond hair, decorated with Darkspear tribal beads and Tuar-ahe feathers. One of her ears twitched slightly, half listening for an answer and half listening to check if the wolves decided to return.
“It’s not safe here.”

    “Woof!”

    Sound of Rascal’s bark stirred Arzog out of his stupor, glowing eyes blinking slowly several time, waiting for them to come into focus. The Alterac hound was standing, his head down, the hair along his spine raised. Slowly, the troll rested his had on the dog’s flank, shushing him as he gave him good scratch.

“Shush, mon,” Arzog murmured, his eyes gazing into the darkness ahead of them. Whatever it was that had started Rascal, and in turn, Skullslinger, seemed to be approaching, and though he could vaguely make out an outline of a figure, he could not hear whomever, or whatever approached.

    However, it would appear that the form belonged to a female, a Sin’dorei woman who appeared to be gazing at the slumbering troll with worry in her gaze.

    “Aye, Ah be fine,” Arzog rumbled, rising slowly to his full, eight-foot height, rolling massive shoulders. “Just got ah bit...” He paused, a grimace crossing his features. “Lost. Dis cave ain’t what Ah be used to...normally, Ah’m great wit’ directions. But dere’s somethin’ off ‘bout dis one...”

    Brows knitting together, he surveyed the area, before returning his gaze back to the woman, pursing his lips in though. “M’name’s Arzog,” he said simply. “An’ Ah be thinkin’ dat it ain’t smart t’ be splittin’ up...”

#rp: protectoralyndrah#protectoralyndrah#don't worry about replying quickly!#i take foreeeeeeveeeeeeeeeeeeer lol
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Reblogged warcraftspeaceblooms

@warcraftspeaceblooms

The man that approached was…nothing terribly impressive.  A traveler, clad in plain traveling robes and a broad-rimmed hat, his only visible weapon being a blade sheathed at his belt.  From a distance, he looked like nothing more than a mere passing traveler.
Well, if not for the tentacled, spiked abomination snuffling at his heels.  A felhunter; a vicious, unholy creature summoned from another world, marking the man as a warlock.
Closer and closer still the odd duo drew, moving at an almost relaxed, unhurried pace.  What their purpose was or if they were even aware that they were about to cross paths with Arzog and company yet remained a mystery.

    The hair on Rascal’s back raised, and the dog stood his ground as the stranger approached. From what the troll could see, the man didn’t appear to be particularly exceptional in any way; the only clue to the stranger’s calling was a grizzly beast which trailed behind the man, a warlock’s pet.

    A felhunter.

    Arzog’s nose wrinkled at the prospect of dealing with demons. While he held no outright animosity for the creatures, they were still enough to cause a feeling of unease to course through the Death Knight’s frigid body. No wonder Rascal was so irate.

    “’Ey.”

    Carrying the reverb of his undeath, Arzog’s voice was just loud enough to reach the man’s ears, his brows raised as he gazed on the other. “We ain’ lookin’ fer any trouble, mon. Just a couple o’ travelers, passin’ thru.”

#rp: warcraftspeaceblooms#warcraftpeaceblooms
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Open Starter

She had been sitting before the Tavern for a while now.

It was a rather warm evening, the air was fresh and a little chilly from the early spring but nonthless it was warm enough to sit outside, specially when the  the last sunlight was sneaking through the leafcanopy above and painted dots of yellow and red on the paved ground of the alley. Therefor it was not a strange sight to see somone sitting before the tavern with a mug of heated up mead standing on the wall they were sitting on and enjoying the last bit of sun before the Nightfall would bring back the yet too well remembered memory of the Winter with stinging coldness and frost.

Mar however was not sitting there for enjoying the warmth of the sun or the chilly freshness of the air, but from this spot on the low wall she had the best look through the Taverns window, without beeing seen herself. The Halforc had pulled the Hood of her Gugel deep down in her face and while the spicy smoke rising from her pipe draw thin grey lines in the air, she was watching very attentive somone inside the tavern. Somone she was suppose to bring to her client.  Alive and kicking at best. Since Mar knew that a drunken mans kicks were nonetheless alive but by all means not dangerous, the Halforc for now was statesfied to watch her target getting more and more drunk with every passing minute until they would be drunk enough for her to handle without problems. Seeing her target lending their attention to yet another mug of beer, the Halforc blew out a wreath of smoke and  made herself a little more comfortable on her place on the low wall, like a lazy cat in the warm sunlight.

This would be a long evening.

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    “Heh.”

    Night was just beginning to fall, and as the sky steadily darkened, the glow of lich-fire eyes became steadily more prominent in the fading light. Arzog, accompanied both dog and ghoul, swaggered onward, the heavy plate of his armor clanking, his plight less than silent as the tavern approached.

    Though he was one to make camp well out of town than to seek shelter, the longing for food and drink ached in his core. True, it wasn’t necessarily required of a Death Knight to take in sustenance, steak and ale were among some of the joys Arzog did take pleasure in.

    At first glance, the tavern seemed relatively normal; the atmosphere was boisterous, laughter could have been heard from a mile away, or more. But instinct told the troll that something, something he could not quite place, was amiss. Glowing eyes scanned the area; few eyes were upon him briefly--a troll as large as he was uncommon in the area--before returning to their meals and mugs.

    “Your ghoul will have to stay outside.”

    Ears twitched forward as the Death Knight’s gaze found the bartender, who immediately shrunk at the piercing glare of the troll. A grim chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head, running a finger down a single tusk.

    “Ah don’ tink so. Ah’ll ‘ave an ale.”

    He seated himself a good way away from the bar, Skullslinger taking a seat awkwardly beside him. Something was amiss...across the way, a hooded stranger had their gaze fixed on a rowdy one.

    A little too rowdy.

    “Keep yer eyes open, boys,” he muttered to the ghoul and dog, Rascal. “Somethin’ ain’t right...”

#rp: halforcmercenary#halforcmercenary#hi i hope you don't mind i responded to this!#i couldn't come up with anything for a starter! D:
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@warcraftspeaceblooms​

    The Arathi Highlands were not a place Arzog had visited in the past; true, he had flown over them, giving him a pretty good aerial view of what he needed to know, but other than that, he had not had any sort of need to travel to such a place.

    Until his adventurous nature got the better of him.

    If asked about Arzog from anyone other than himself, it would be told that he was not a very adventurous sort, and a grumpy being as it was. But his need for exploration had never been a subject of conversation between the troll and anyone else. Well, anyone willing to speak with him. He might as well have had a sign around his neck, reading ‘DO NOT APPROACH’ as anyone in his vicinity seemed to do just that.

    Taking a rest under a singular tree upon the vast expanse of the valley, from forth his pack he drew a hearty amount of dried boar, immediately tearing into the meat. Though it was true he did not particularly need to eat to sustain himself, he did enjoy meat too much to let it go.

    A soft growling reached Arzog’s ears, and he glanced to Rascal, the hair between his shoulders fluffed as he saw someone in the distance, his tail wagging stiffly. “’Ey, shh,” Arzog murmured, patting the dog’s head. “Ah’m sure we’ll be fine...”

#rp: warcraftspeaceblooms#warcraftspeaceblooms
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warcraftspeaceblooms asked:

Favorite animal?

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Character Questions #003: Animal Edition - accepting

Arzog regarded the question for a moment, lips pursed in thought as he traced the length of one of his tusks. “Ah like dogs, if it ain’t obvious already wit’ Rascal,” he said offhandedly, reaching to pet Rascal behind the ears. “Though, if Ah had t’ pick somethin’ else, Ah’d say bats. Ah’ve always liked ‘em; when Ah was ah kid, Ah wanted ah whole mess o’ dem. Ma wouldn’t let me, though.”

#arzogcanon#warcraftspeaceblooms#ask: warcraftspeaceblooms
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@osyra​

    Even after a few minutes, Arzog remembered why he rarely visited Stranglethorn, despite his mother living there.

    The humid climates had always left something to be desired, and though he had been raised in jungle, Arzog never had liked the hot weather. Thank the spirits that his skin was always much cooler than it had been, otherwise his situation could have been a lot worse that it actually was. Still, his plate armor was feeling heavier by the second...was he sweating? Could he even sweat?

    Fuck it.

    Rascal and Skullslinger had been left with his mother who, despite a dog and a ghoul getting into constant trouble, loved Arzog’s companions and assured him they would both be safe while he went out. Maybe he could find a pool of some sort...it may have been ages since he actually lived here, but he remembered there was a waterfall around, somewhere...

#osyra#feel free to do whatever you like to him!
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@ismory-dawnshadow​

    God he felt out of place.

    Bright colors, warm crimson hues and sparkling golden tones seemed to blind lich-fire eyes, and as large as he was, Arzog had a very difficult time remaining inconspicuous in Silvermoon. Hulking and broad, the span of his shoulders could have easily made up at least two women, and his frayed, crimson braids were enough to cause the prissy race to sneer in his direction. Never mind he was undead or anything, but just the state of his dirt-covered hands had elves avoiding him by a wide perimeter.

    “Fer fuck’s sake,” he growled loudly, causing the pair of women before him to speed up their stride, casting frightened looks back to the troll, whose lips were twisted in an unhappy grimace. “Ya’d think anyone could summon me ah portal ‘ere, but dese shits be thinkin’ dat Ah’m ‘bout to eat ‘em!”

    Rascal whined at his side, pawing at Arzog’s hand for attention. Glancing at the creature, a thin grin lifted trollish lips, and Arzog gave the dog a good scratch behind his ears, before leading them both to an unoccupied bench, the wood groaning under his massive weight.

    “Shoulda brought Skullslinger, dontcha tink?” he asked Rascal, the dog’s chin resting on the troll’s knee. “Woulda given dese people one ‘ell of a time.”

#rp: ismorydawnshadow#ismorydawnshadow
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bartmeise asked:

ヽ(´ー｀)ﾉ ?

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Send me a face for a headcanon about my muse! - accepting

What calms your muse down?

His recent solitude makes it difficult for anything to truly calm him down, but as of late, Rascal, his dog who’s been his steadfast companion all during his time of self-discovery, has managed to learn to sense when his master is becoming uneasy or is angered or roused in any sense of the word. The Alterac Brew Dog will lead his master to safety and calm as soon as he possibly can.

Previously, in his relationship with Akirlia, her soft singing in her native tongue did wonders to help him calm himself. Nowadays, he finds himself longing to hear her voice again.

#arzogcanon#baifeng#ask: baifeng
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