A horrible storm raged around him, forcing Khesed to spend the night in Stonebreaker Hold on route to Shattrath City. Making sure his wyvern was properly taken care of, he headed towards the Inn.

Entering into the establishment, Innkeeper Grilka waived him over.

“Back from the front, paladin? What can I get for you?”

Khesed responded, “A place to rest, something strong to drink. What else does a warrior need?”

Grilka smiled at Khesed, pulling out a skin Sin’dorei wine.

“Something stronger please. I have memories that I don’t desire to entertain tonight,” Khesed said with very little emotion.

Grilka grunted, putting the Sin’dorei wine up and pulling something else out.

“It’s dwarven. Don’t ask me what it is, for I’m really not sure. But, I know it practically eats away paint, rust, and a number of other things. Just don’t ask me where I got it.”

Khesed nods, “I appreciate this greatly.” He places the fee for the drink and bed on the counter with a grateful nod.

The bed wasn’t much. It was more of a hammock attached to the wall and a pole. The walls were animal hides in true Nagrand style.

He didn’t care. What ever this dwarven drink may be, he was sure it would knock him out
before he finished it.

By the nether, it was stout!

It wasn’t that he was afraid to dream. He just preferred to not remember it the next morning.

He could feel it coming on as he drifted into the alcohol induced stupor.

The dream began as it usually did.

Looking up, he sees it. The sign of the World End’s Tavern. He and a number of other Scryers were regulars there. They liked to show up the night before, toasting the future exploits they would have in battle. They would show up when they got back, toasting those whom they lost in battle.

He’s sitting inside now, raising his glass with the others when she walks in. A Draenei woman walks in with a group of Aldor.


Usually, that isn’t a problem. Khadgar’s Servant made it very clear to him that violence would not be tolerated within the city. Also, Khesed really didn’t care about the Aldor. Not that he liked or disliked them. He just didn’t care about them.

She was good looking…for a Draenei.

Soft blue glow to her skin. Petite horns, slightly curving back over her white gleaming hair.  The thin robe she was wearing left little to the imagination.. To say she was healthy would be an understatement. She had both an air of beauty, dignity with a dash of playfulness. There was no doubt that she could easily handle the staff she carried on her back.

He also had to later admit…she had a fine tail.


Eventually the jibes started coming. To be honest, he never can seem to remember how it all began. All he remembers is that he’s throwing sarcastic remarks back and forth with the rest of them.

Again, no one is really angry. No one was stupid enough to pull anything. But, the exchange does get a bit heated, especially with the Draenei female. Maybe it was the way she carried herself. Maybe it was the way she threatened him with her staff. Before he knew it, they went from arguing to their own private room there at the World’s End.

What a dumb move. What a stupid move.

“Dumb bastard,” Khesed mumbles to himself  tossing and turning into the night.


*a great thanks to Askevar for the use of one of her alts as the model for the Draenei in Khesed’s storyline!

2013 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.  I found some of this humorous, and all of it makes me love anyone who reads this blog. :)

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 5,400 times in 2013. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 5 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Flinging himself into battle, Khesed shouts; “May the blessings of our fathers be upon you!”

It seems that every Scryer on the battlefield was enveloped with a holy light. Each one gained strength, quickness, and keener insight.

Having blessed his comrades in arms, Khesed flings himself into the battle.

He runs forward, stepping upon and leaping forward into the air from the back of a foe doubled over from a stomach wound. He lands in the midst of a group of Kael’thas’ Sunfury Bloodwarders, seeming to land with one knee and one hand touching the ground.

“Burn with holy fire,” he mouths quietly. The ground seems to erupt with holy flames, burning every foe within ten feet of him.

He immediately strikes out with his weapon…Foe Reaver it was once called… not only striking the Sunfury Bloodwarder in front of him; but sending waves of holy power around him. Seeming to strike other surrounding foes, pounding into their bodies.

Calling holy energy from within, he strikes a Sunfury Magister a bit beyond the warrior in front of him. He immediately slams his shield into the warrior, as righteous energy seems to double the impact.

The warrior stumbles back, allowing Khesed to grip his sword even tighter; and with a thought sending more holy energy out around him as a holy shockwave.

The Bloodwarder drops, never to rise again and Khesed lunges into the Magister, impaling him upon his sword.

Other attackers decide to ignore their previous targets, deciding that he was more of a threat.

Attacked from three sides, his shield takes one hit; his sword deflects another, and his back plate deflects an attack from the rear.

Spinning in a circle of light, the ground erupts with renewed holy flames around him. Slashing the foe in front of him, he also calls forth the holy energy from within to burn the Bloodwarder even more with holy fire. Khesed seems to be mouthing words, almost as silent prayers with each slash, parry, and strike.

The Bloodwarder in front of him slumps over, taking the full effect of the divine judgment, expending his last breath.

The other two took advantage of Khesed’s concentration upon their brother in arms. One slashed down upon Khesed, beating upon his shield time and time again. The other had made his way around to his opposite flank, lunging for a mid-level strike to pierce his ribs.

While his armor took much of the impact, the weapon did make its way through. Khesed grimaced as the blade pierced his side. Calling forth the holy power, his wound began to mend. Yet, he was still wounded and he knew he had to finish these two off quickly.

Calling forth the holy power of the Naaru, his body seems to glow as a vessel overflowing with light. Letting out a massive surge of power in a holy shock to his enemies; they stumble back in pain. One falls, not getting back up. Khesed leaps towards the other before he recomposes himself. Slamming into him with his shield, then planting his sword into his chest.

Looking up, he sees that the battle is starting to wain around him. The forces of the Naaru drive Kael’thas’ forces back. They’ve secured the area as required, the last Manaforge was finally theirs. Khesed falls to a knee utterly exhausted.

He hates what comes next.

So exhausted that not even the adrenaline rushing through his body can force the thoughts out of his mind.

During the battle, there is no thinking. There is action and reaction. There are forms, immediate spells and prayers…all deeply rooted into his being. He does it all without thinking, one fluid motion of death. Reacting to each stimuli as it presents itself.

But afterwards, when his mental defenses are down, he remembers.

The memories, along with the wave of emotions, crash into him like a personal Holy Shock. Cascading through his body, with just as much pain as the spell he learned to cast so long ago.

His child. His first and only child, disappearing before his eyes in the shaft of Naaru generated light.

Getting up, he pulls his helm down tighter upon his head. People will assume that the tears are from his wound to his side. But, where the holy energy is mending that wound; it can’t do anything for his sundered soul.

He makes his way back to Area 52 with the rest of the formation. From there, a brief meal and then a wyvern ride back to Shattrath City.

This… This wasn’t working. He was going to speak with the Seer, Voren’thal.

unForgiven (nsfw)

*As he tromped along, you could hear him mutter under his breath*

“Dumb bastard.”

*a few minutes pass by*

“Sorry son of a bitch”

*a few more minutes pass by*

“All for what?”

*more silence*

“Dumb bastard.”

*He places one foot, violently in front of the other*

“What were you saving? Prestige? Family honor?”

*He spits onto the side of the path as he marches a long*

“Sorry son of a bitch.”


*His jaw tensed as his fists clenched. His nails bit into his flesh*

He could see his newborn be taken by the Naru.

Dematerializing they called it.

To him, it just looked like his child was torn apart molecule by molecule into a column of light.

And, he agreed to it!

*He choked back his sobs*

“Dumb bastard.”

*continuing to march forward*

“Sorry son of a bitch.”

*He began to weep angry tears as he continued to march along*

Clenching his sword and shield. What he needed was a fight. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would die and meet up with his child somewhere out there in the nether.

Or wherever that damnable light went.

All Khesed could do was march forward, not looking back, green eyes set as flint.

“Dumb bastard.” *He muttered one last time.*


I’ve an idea.

I have some thinking, some scouting and some planning to do.

Be prepared

A “ZKI”™ is in process…


We can mail BoA items between toons on different servers!!!!!

This is awesome!

You just need to make sure that you’re using the correct spelling of your toon’s name and server that you’re mailing too.

Oh, and there ARE NO SPACES between the words. Like this: “Dreah-Azuremyst”

“Dreah – Azuremyst” won’t get it there.

Ok, gushing over. You can now get back to your regularly scheduled #faffing.


I know I’m late to the party on this one.  It’s my superhero power!

I wanted to take a few moments and be thankful. I seem to remember it going around the interwebs during Thanksgiving.

I’m thankful for my online WoW friends.

This isn’t an exhaustive list, just some of the people I’m thinking of this morning.

I’m thankful for McTacky, Xyn, Aza, Navimie and Askevar.

These are all people that have taken time to interact with me in the game, making me feel welcomed and valued.

I’m blessed to interact with McTacky, Xyn and Aza via vent most mornings. For some reason, they are the late night Ausies of the guild! Xyn was kind enough to take me on his Warbringer kills. McTacky is always willing to help out in any way he can, and is the guy to go to for random conversation!  Aza saved my tushy with his warlock, when I needed some help with a group quest.  He’s always willing to lend a hand.

You know, that kind of describes the whole late night crew of the Frostwolves: Always Willing to Help.

Of course, Navimie is our tyrannical wonderful guild leader. She’s been awesome.

All three of these guildies have gone out of their way to make me feel welcome in the Frostwolves.  My play time is diametrically opposed to almost everyone elses, but they are more than willing to hang out (and not make fun of my TX accent!).

I also mentioned Askevar. She’s another of Navimie’s Lost Blogger Initiative™ reclamations.

You know that one don’t you?  It is when WoW Bloggers end up rolling alts in the Frostwolves. If they aren’t careful, they may end up abandoning their mains, and drinking the oceanic/horde cool-aide.

*cough* Not that I would know anything about that. *cough*

Anywho, Askevar is another of my WoW friends that is always willing to chit-chat. Not only that, but she let me in on an old content raid!

I only wiped the raid once. ;)

She even said that my Alliance toon could join her current guild as a social member! :D

I just wanted to say “Thank You” for allowing me into your virtual lives. It’s been a lot of fun, and I look forward to what WoD brings!



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