Bey&#x27;ron Everblaze

#ic letter #world of warcraft #ina'thia dawnblade #bey'ron everblaze

A shimmer of emerald flame flickers into existence mere meters in front of a tired cyclopian Knight-Lord, just outside the Hall of Blood. From it, a vibrant red envelope is cast out by an unseen hand. Black filigree decorates the edges of the envelope, and a wax seal binds it closed. It smells of brimstone. Within it, a note on plain white paper reads as follows: Ina'thia,

You had me a Eversong Red. Feel free to come by my estate at your earliest convenience. Your presence is always a welcomed one.

Sincere Regards, -Bey'ron

@inathia

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ronaestrider

An Unexpected Update

static.wikia.nocookie.net

Ruthar departs the interior of the Rangers' Lodge along with a series of other Farstrider leaders. They all look somewhat worn after what must have been a lengthy meeting of the minds. His bow and helmet are racked inside the lodge.

Bey'ron leans up against the doorway. "It always smells so... -rugged- in here, don't you think? I've always appreciated how Farstriders aren't afraid to get their hands dirty." he smirks, eyes meeting Ruthar's.

Ruthar halts in his departure, shifting to the side nearer Bey'ron. "Magister Everblaze," he begins, bowing his head in a small greeting. He turns a slight smirk. "Rugged is a...pleasant way to put it." He gestures behind him. "Please, come in - it has certainly been some time."

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inathia

Returning Home

The jewel-toned leaves of citrine, topaz and ruby crunched under the heavy footfalls of a child of blood long overdue for their return home. Black boots caked in enough mud, sand and blood made them appear dull, almost gray in appearance. The entire suit of armor had much of the same wear and tear after years of travel. A once pristine black tabard with a red phoenix was layered over the armor, with years of dutiful mending evident on the endlessly frayed and repaired hems.

Stopping just outside of Fairbreeze Village, the weary traveler looked up at the tall inn building. Memories of a past lifetime of chasing little lordlings caused a derisive exhale, though the days of walking had certainly taken a toll. A brief rest for a proper meal couldn't hurt, could it?

#ina'thia dawnblade #bey'ron everblaze #world of warcraft #wyrmrest accord #reblog

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Anonymous asked:

To Bey’ron: “Aren’t you afraid of ending up alone?”

#character prompts #Blindfolded and Listening

“Afraid? Come now, do I truly come off as someone who would fear loneliness? Loneliness and I are old friends, by now. You know what they say; It’s lonely at the top. No, I’m not afraid of ending up alone. Preposterous!”

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Anonymous asked:

Bey'ron "Why are you so afraid to be irrelevant?"

#character prompts #Blindfolded and Listening

The Magister was silent a moment. His expression, though partially covered by his blindfold, was pridefully amused. A chuckle accompanied shaking his head, lips curled to his usual smirk.

“An utterly ridiculous notion. Why would I fear that which will never come to pass?”

#Bey'ron Everblaze #Tydori Silentspear #The Sun Council #Tyrellius Duskfury #Warcraft #Blood Elves #Silvermoon #Politics #Quel'Thalas #Illidari #Character Story

By Any Other Name

Tyrellius Duskfury exhaled sharply out of his nose. His mask hid well the disapproving scowl on his face, as he escorted Lady Silentspear into Everblaze Manor. While the Demon Hunter didn't see in the same way as his elven kin, he could still perceive his surroundings well. Better than most, thanks to his prime bound demon. Observers saw the world through many different lenses. And now, so did he. Everblaze Manor was… gaudy. Crimson drapery with golden filigree, the grandiose portrait frames and statue busts lining the corridors-- most of which depicted Lord Everblaze himself, of course-- the vaulted ceiling crowded with dimly lit chandeliers... all of it shiney and extravagant! The manor was a monument to the Magister's narcissism, most assuredly. Tyrellius found himself glad, for once, that he'd gouged his real eyes out to spare them the true pain of seeing all this naturally.

Tydori, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. A rather slender woman, she walked the halls of the Manor with such grace and reverence, any passer-by could have mistaken her for master of the domain. If not for the garish horns protruding from her raven hair, perhaps. She dressed the part nonetheless; an elegant black dress with red and gold trim. A blindfold to match. Simple, but all the same displayed a fealty to the High Kingdom. And that wasn’t an accident. For months, since stepping into the spotlight of the Council, she’s long represented the side of Quel’Thalas often left too forgotten by those living in the luxury of Silvermoon. Soldiers and citizens, all who have made often-overlooked sacrifices. She needed no extravagant dress or peacocky attire. Hers was a platform of simplicity and fealty. And she wore it well in both the literal and figurative sense.

That’s why they were here, Tyrellius could only surmise; Lady Silentspear’s controversial propositions had tipped the Sun Council itself on its head. Outraged at her “radical” ideas for reformation, she was dismissed… much to the ire of the people whom she represented. Protests, riots, anger in all its forms from civil to ugly all erupted throughout Silvermoon. Unintended by Tydori, of course, but Tyrellius knew she wouldn’t have been invited to a Councilor’s estate if noise hadn’t been made on her behalf. Though, he never expected Lord Bey’ron Everblaze, of all the Councilors, to be the one who would reach out first. An odd move, even for him. Despite the support she’d garnered from her fellow elves, to any politician she was a poison; was Lord Everblaze truly so powerful-- or arrogant-- to host her like this without losing face?

#Bey'ron Everblaze #Character musing #vignette #Warcraft #Blood Elf #The Sun Council #Silvermoon

Alone

I have always been alone.

From the beginning, I was never understood. Surrounded by so many-- friends, family, everyone-- all of them having resigned to the decisions and machinations of someone else. Spouses to spouses, citizens to magistrates, criminals to gang bosses... No one I knew had any measure of self-assurance. No ambitions beyond surviving to the next day, or week. Content in their mediocrity. Pathetic! What manner of elf could abide such inappetence? Not me. I stood alone; the radiant phoenix among a flock of low flying dragonhawks. The sun’s warmth called on me to rise above.

Ambition alone means nothing without direction. I saw only one aspiration worth chasing; a crown. The Sun Crown. For too long, I had been told the Sunstrider lineage bore the sole claim to the monarchy. Why? Dath’remar’s undeniable achievements were wrought in blood, pain, toil, and sacrifice! And his progeny benefit from simply sharing his bloodline? No wonder my elven kin are so sated; no ambition thrives in a world where your lot in life is simply handed to you. Born into nobility, or spawned into poverty… should that define an elf? Did it define Dath’remar? An absurd notion. The High Kingdom was built on his ambition! It should not serve as ambition’s tomb! No… my people would see that bloodline alone means nothing. They are so content to be governed? So eager to be ruled over?

Then I shall rule them.

The path before me was clear; and yet, fraught with obstacles, both miring and dangerous. But I was not deterred by such adversity. In fact, it only enkindled my drive! All the opposition between my golden objective and me served only as proof that it was worthy of my pursuit! I started with the gift I had been given; an affinity for magic. Not uncommon among my people, but it seemed to be more of a curse than a blessing for many of the ignorant fools surrounding me. They used their arcane gifts to ease their mediocre lives… and nothing more! Magic made them all the lazier. Their sails may have already been closed, but what little arcane proficiencies they bore stilled the winds. None of them saw the potential I did. I fully grasped the Arcana before me! I shaped it, and molded it, and bent it to my will! I rode it to new heights, and became among the most powerful of my people! Finally, I was among others with ambition! But even they had their own self-imposed limitations.

The Fel is dangerous, they told me. Warned me. Shielding themselves from it like a storm. I didn’t run from the storm’s terrible thunder-- I reached for it! An investment in power would be the only way to earn my throne! And if that meant stealing the power from chaos to bring about order of my own design… so be it! I bridled the thunder of the storm; the dangerous and terrible Fel became another weapon in my arsenal! Another rung on my ladder!

There was something else of which I should have been wary, however. Something far more dangerous than demonfire. Love. I found another I thought shared in my ambition. Someone with which I believed I could climb to the top of the mountain of my greatest dreams! Only to learn she, too, had resigned herself to play the role of a pawn in another’s game. By the time the love blindness was lifted, it was too late. Love narrows one’s vision, setting a haze over the path to destiny. I was burned, literally and figuratively, by trusting someone too much. But even that misstep didn’t defer me from my path. Nothing would!

Now, I am closer than ever; the prestigious Sun Council dances to the steady rhythm I so subtly play with the tap of my finger. Do any of them realize it? Some suspect, I’m sure. But if I’ve learned anything in this ascent, it’s to be mindful. Subtle. Cautious. The masses are content to be ruled. But those who imagine themselves rulers do not. Still they dance; their feet move to the beat, the illusion of agency. Their decisions are more easily made when they believe them to be of their own design. I’ll call them colleagues. Peers. It caresses their fragile egos, and keeps them docile; revealing just how beneath me they really are will only agitate and antagonize them. And I’ve enough obstacles yet to face without adding more, needlessly.

It matters little, in any case; soon they’ll learn the truth for themselves. They’ve always been beneath me. I have no one. I need no one!

I have always been alone.

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kidcatgeminiart

Patron Reward - Bey’ron Everblaze

Completed Chibi Icon of everyone’s favorite smug ~~asshole~~ Magister <3 ( @lordbeyron / @thefugitivemango )

~*~*~

Like what I do? Support me on:

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#character art #patreon reward #kidcatgeminiart #Sinafay's Art Sanctum #Bey'ron Everblaze #Smug #Asshole #Condescending

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cebinaruavin

Truce

GIF by sudokuyomi

((Story co-written with @thefugitivemango / @lordbeyron. @pariker / @inathia / @phoenixguard for mention.))

~*~*~

Cebina waited in the foyer as Bey’ron finished his bath. She took her time to stroll around the room, picking out her favorite wine and helping herself to a glass. She sat herself down comfortably in one of the large lounge chairs, sitting back and crossing her legs.

She’d always enjoyed her time spent in the manor, as short as that time was. Bey’ron had good taste in lavish decor, always ready to entertain guests. She sometimes wondered if he expected Lor’themar himself to show up at his doorstep. Even the room he’d given her to stay in had been one of the fanciest she’d ever had. A shame that didn’t last. They’d worked well together, the two of them, before her switch to the void and exile.

Water under the bridge now, as it were. The war between Alliance and Horde was over now. While Cebina’s presence still wasn’t welcomed in Quel’Thalas, travelling there was no longer as big of a risk; as long as she suppressed her Void powers and kept out of sight, of course.

She swirled the wine in her glass and sniffed the bouquet before taking a sip. Yes. She’d certainly missed this.

Her presence wasn’t lost on Bey’ron; nothing happened in his manor that he didn’t know about. Eyes everywhere… but he figured Cebina knew that as well. He cut his bath short as he sensed her presence once more in his house. While he didn’t feel in danger of anything she might do, his trust in her certainly took a dive following her last big revelation. He dried and dressed himself casually, paced calmly as he always did, before stepping into the room.

“Pour one for me too, hmm?” he instructed, nonchalantly.

Cebina smiled from her spot on the chair moving her hair over her shoulder to show off more of her chest. A natural reaction for her, even though she knew it had no effect on Bey’ron. She pointed towards the counter, where a second full glass of wine sat waiting for him.

“Way ahead of you, Sweetie,” she hummed, “How have you been, Bey Bey?”

“Mm… considering my home’s been invaded,” he narrowed his eyes at Cebina, “not terrible.”

He scooped his glass from the counter, swirling it gently as he approached the Ren’dorei intruder, uncertain at what brought her here. To gloat more, perhaps? He didn’t think she would have come here to kill him… but then the void did alter one’s mind, didn’t it? How far had her dark studies taken her…?

“Why are you here, Cebina?” he asked, bluntly, tone indicative he wasn’t interested in going through the usual foreplay. “Haven’t you caused me enough of a headache already?”

Keep reading

#Character Story #Cebina Ruavin #bey'ron everblaze #blood elf #void elf #warcraft #silvermoon

#character prompts #Sinday #NSFW Alphabet #Dirty Secret #Masturbation #Orgasm Denial #Bey-Bey's pretty bland in the bedroom #sorry xD

syrielle asked:

D,J and O

[D] Dirty Secret

Bey’ron isn’t one to talk about his secrets, and his dirty secrets are no different! Still, his bedroom secrets are pretty bland by most standards. The worst of them would probably be him having sex with someone as a political maneuver early in his career.

[J] Jack - off (masturbation hc)

Bey’ron doesn’t do that often... if at all! He’s not one that’s overly driven in that regard, so tending to himself isn’t something he ever really feels the need to do.

[O] Orgasm Denial (how do they do it, do they like it done to them)

That’s not something Bey’ron’s ever tried, but he certainly wouldn’t enjoy it! He isn’t the sort to be denied something he’s after, and if he ever got into such a circumstance, he’d clearly want the big finish!

Thanks for the prompt @syrielle!

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#character prompts #anon #letter #Ina'thia Dawnblade #Aelissah Ambroise #Warcraft #Pandaria #WoW #Elves #Old Gods

Anonymous asked:

A letter arrives to Bey’ron, postmarked from Pandaria of all places. There are grummle-prints all over the envelope, which at one point was probably in great condition! “I’m sorry that I left. I felt trapped — by my armor, by the politics, by the... visions... I left to the only place I know to clear my head and my soul. I really did love you... I still do. I will never forget Midsummer, years ago. I hope someday you can forgive me.”

[[ Interestingly enough, I have a response to this prompt ready, co-written in part by @kidcatgemini. We were going to post it later on separately on its own, but with some amending, it felt proper to post it up in response to this! ]]

~*~

Night finally fell over Eversong. With the day concluded, Bey’ron shed his formal attire, causing his mantle to levitate up from his shoulders. He disrobed, slipping instead into a more comfortable evening lounger robe; These little comforts had become borderline necessities to him, over the years. After going without such things most of his life, they reinforced the progress he’d made in his life. Tonight’s robes were white-- unusual for him. Yet the golden flame-patterned filigree around the seams and deep red streaks at the collar and cuffs felt on-brand enough for him. He had already slipped it on and tied it closed, before he realized where he’d gotten in. A Midsummer gift… from Ina’thia.

He stood in silence a moment, eyeing the robe in the full-length mirror that stood tall and proud beside his eveningwear shrank. He hated this. He hated ALL of this. It was one thing to have something taken from you - everything else could be replaced. But not her. The void she left behind wasn’t just a vacancy. It was a cold-yet-burning tightness in his chest. He should’ve known better than to let anyone close like that again. He’d hoped Ina’thia would be different. A stronger, deeper bond that could withstand the test of time. The foibles of refamiliarizing himself with the notion of a relationship. The hardships of disagreements and conflicting interests.

He was wrong.

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pariker asked:

“I want to know what makes you happy.” For Bey

#character prompts #I want to know...#...what makes you happy

The Magister laughed. He idly tugged his gloves down taut across his hands one by one, as he shook his head.

“The same thing that makes everyone happy, of course; success.” he explained, tone condescending as usual. “While other people are content accomplishing their meager goals, the basis of the notion’s the same. We all like to succeed. And my successes are far superior to those of a common elf’s. So imagine how much happier I am, hmm?”

Thanks for the prompt, @pariker ^^

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Special Delivery

A follow-up from a scene with @lordbeyron!

As when it came to the special delivery of obtained goods via signed contracts and such, Dawnstide Harbor Trade & Supply usually sent out it’s own courier with the item and the idea for collection of payment for services. Although there were certain occasions where Asharri delivered the goods herself, she wasn’t always afforded such a luxury due to the nature of her status within the Farstriders. Such was the case as to why she sent out her official courier to Lord Everblaze’s estate with the tome he had requested. The Sin’dorei gentleman with auburn hair had been let in by the estate’s house-staff and led back to the study where the Magister would be waiting. Very carefully he carried the fancily dressed box tied with a crimson ribbon and a note attached in both hands, awaiting eagerly for the other man to take it from him once he had been announced.

“Lord Everblaze,” the courier bowed his head politely. “I come at the request of Ranger-Captain Lakefire to see to it that this is personally hand delivered to you and payment is collected for our services. The extraction was quite the success, I am pleased to announce.” Within the nicely wrapped box, the very tome asked for was within. ’The Inextinguishable Theorem’, written by Arcanist Lueni Destre. Naturally it had signs of being weathered over the millennia that had passed, even under protection enchantments and being locked away in a chest. Trapped beneath the depths in the ruins of Zin-Azshari, it was bound to not be in pristine condition, yet still readable for the most part. The letter attached to the package read along with a precise number for payment: Dear Lord Everblaze,

It is with great pride that we present to you the tome you asked of my trade to recover. While I will not bore you with the specifics of the recovery process, clearly our extraction was a success. Your tome is in remarkable condition given the location and time that has passed since it was originally written, but could naturally use some careful restoration work.

I have included the final pricing for our services on the next page and humbly ask that you send your payment along with my courier. Should you require our services in the future, please do not hesitate in reaching out. Dawnstide Harbor Trade and Supply is always happy to provide.

Signed,

Asharri Lakefire

{ @lordbeyron }

#character story #Asharri Lakefire #The Inextinguishable Theorem #Arcanist Lueni Destre

Elegantly written as the letter was, Bey’ron hardly set eyes on it. He tugged it from the box, and promptly handed it over to his attendant. His interest lay with the box, and the contents therein. Slowly, he withdrew the weathered tome, grinning wide as he beheld just how intact it remained. Not entirely unexpected, but indeed better condition than he had anticipated. He chuckled lightly, holding the book as if it were made of solid gold. Crystal, even! The tome was worth well more than its weight in either.

“Oh, Destre, you clever woman,” he spoke to the book as if it were the author herself. “You knew this precious book would find its way into my hands eventually, didn’t you? An arcane love letter, just for me...”

Few things in life could make the Magister this happy. He turned from both the courier and his attendant, carrying his prize off to take its place among his most valued treasures.

“Pay this man, Tali’nel. Whatever price.” he muttered nonchalantly-- before abruptly turning to eye the courier closely. “... And you; relay my sincere thanks to the Ranger-Captain. This momentous success is the firmest of foundations. The strong beginnings of a very beneficial relationship. For the both of us.”

He smirked, brow flickering as he titled his chin upward. Then he turned once more, retreating into his private study.

[[ Thanks @lakefire for the storyline! ^^ ]]

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syrielle asked:

Frisky - Syrielle and Bey'ron (not cannon)

#character prompts #Frisky #Non Canon #Bey'ron x Syrielle #not likely!

“I beg your pardon!”

Bey’ron frowned. And frowned deeply! His eyes ignited in brilliant green flames, as the rest of the flames in the sconces and fireplace flickered to dim embers. He scoffed!

“Are you drunk again, Lady Starfrost? Or do you honestly think the same tricks you pull on common bar patrons will be enough to lure me into your bedchambers? You ought to know better by now, my dear!”

Thanks for the prompt @syrielle!

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nocturne-dreamer-deactivated202 asked:

⌛️⌛️ x2 each for Bey'ron and Dahlyah!

#character prompts #little known facts #criminal record #law

Bey’ron:

Unbeknownst to most, Bey’ron briefly had a criminal record! During a visit to Stratholme, the Magister was arrested for unlicensed solicitation when he allegedly tried to sell an old spellbook he no longer needed to a magic-adept human woman. A misunderstanding, surely. He was fined 200 gold by some rather xenophobic and crooked city guards, and was restricted from the city for two week’s time. Stratholme burned in that two-week window, and any record of the “criminal offense” was lost. Nonetheless, the event has altered his opinion of humans overall.

Speaking of the law, Bey’ron is actually a lawyer by trade! He studied the subject extensively both locally in Silvermoon and in Dalaran for a broader-kingdom perspective on the subject. He was licensed to practice not only in Quel’Thalas but additionally in all human kingdoms and Ironforge. He hasn’t tried, obviously, but on paper he may still be able to do public defense work in the dwarven capital!

Dahlyah:

Dahlyah entered military service at a young age - only fourteen! Desperate for food and shelter after her father vanished, she lied about how old she was in order to join the Anvilrage Reservists. The Reservist Corps provided her lodging and food during her time with them, as well as combat and survival training that’s still helping her to this day!

Dahlyah met Queen Moira Thaurissan back when she was still Moira Bronzebeard! Once she was captured from Redridge and brought to Blackrock Mountain, Moira was restricted to a holding quarters. And as one of only a handful seasoned female Reservists, Dahlyah was tasked to guard the prisoner for a brief period during the Princess’ in-processing. She remembers being greatly impressed by Moira, and how unfazed she was even in the face of being detained deep below “enemy territory”. Somewhat reflexively, Dahlyah asked if Moira needed anything, to which Moira replied “Dunnae worry ‘bout me, lass. Won’t be stayin’ long.”

Thanks for the questions, @nocturnedreaming!

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prancingmad asked:

🍸 - Bey'ron - Have you ever felt betrayal?

#character prompts #drunken answers #betrayal #eriene #ina'thia #syrielle

The Magister swirled the wine in his glass, thoughtfully - it must’ve been his fourth, or fifth by now. He scoffed.

“Hm... what a ridiculous question. Of course I have. Everybody has.” he replied, taking another deep drink. “Listen well; everybody betrays everybody. Eriene betrayed me. Ina’thia betrayed me. Syrielle will betray me soon enough, I’m sure. It is not a matter of who will betray you, but when they will.”

He nodded once, firmly.

“... And only a fool would fail to plan accordingly.”

((Thanks for the ask, @prancingmad! @eriene, @inathia, & @syrielle for mentions! ))