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Monthly Archives: December 2018

Two months ago..

Booty Bay, as usual, was bustling with excitement as merchants peddled their wares in private shops, Patrons hurried along the main thoroughfare and travelers came and left by mount, boat, hypogryph or windrider. In the eastern corner of the sea dock barter town was a bar named the Salty Sailor Tavern. 

 The Salty Sailor Tavern much like the Broken Keel was owned by the Steamwiddle Cartel.  The Sailor was run by Nixxrax Fillamug, a tall, pleasant goblin; that’s tall and pleasant for a goblin.  The average goblin stood at about 3’ tall. Nixxrax, was a firm 3’2” high.  He was always an outcast with other goblins whom he felt were just jealous of his enormous size. He took his size a blessing, thus the pleasant demeanor. Of course, it also helped that he regularly tasted the Goblin Ale for freshness.  The Sailor also like the one in Ratchet was frequented by both Alliance and Horde alike.  There were very few altercations though, due mostly to the Cartel’s Bruisers.  Nixxrax  was cleaning some mugs when saw a surly Orc storm in, followed closely by a Tauren and an Undead. He smiled as they walked by,  always the pleasant professional, even though this lot  made him nervous.  The three new customers wore the emblem of the Mute Assasins.  The very thought of that name sent a shiver down his spine and shook his head. “Shame what they did to that poor “s”.  He said quietly and went back to his bartending.


The trio made their way upstairs and approached a table in a corner.  Sitting there was a Tauren with his head on the table with an empty mug in his hand.  There were several empty mugs in fact, indicating the he had been there drinking for quite some time.  When the three Assasins neared the table the drunken tauren spoke without lifting his head to see who it was. 

“I hope you four have better news than I .”  The three seemed amazed.

“Baar, how do you do that?” Gndgekleg replied.  He appeared to be the most surprised.  A troll suddenly appeared from seemingly nowhere. 

“I’ll fool you one of these days, Baar.”  Hiruskiya said laughing.

“One day… perhaps, but not today.”  He laughed and gestured for his friends to join him at the table as he lifted his head and leaned back in his seat.  A waitress came over and took new orders and returned with beer and fresh bread. It wasn’t till after the waitress left them that anyone spoke again.

     “Have you heard nothing else from Quista, Baar?”  Wolf guard inquired.  Wolf was the powerful leader of the Mute Assasins. He voice was gruff and almost growled with every word like most Tauren but his inflection had a calming warmth to it that was not very common in Tauren and even less common to Warriors which he also was.

“Baar, we’re gonna find her, buddy.”  The Orc warrior added taking a sip from his mug of Thunderbrew.  The stocky warrior slammed his mug down  on the table “ Damn, good brew.” He grunted slapping the butt of a elfven waitress as she passed.  Startled by the gesture she nearly dropped her tray.  The nightelf glanced back with a disapproving glare.  Wolfgaurd shook his head.

  “G, we can’t take ya anywhere.”  A loud belch echoed across the table. Hiru wiped her mouth, feeling better to have relieved the pressure.

“Yes, G, you can be so rude.”  Rastorem the mage, who been quite quiet up until that moment let out a loud cackle.

“Enough of that, you two! We have more important things to discuss.”  Wolf scolded.

  Rastorem replied suddenly turning back to all business. 

“I have heard rumors of several disappearances all along the golden road just north of Crossroads and as far south as the Great Lift.”  He let that hang for second before continuing.  “There are also rumblings that the Scarlet Blade is involved.  That however is as of yet unconfirmed.”

“Yes, we’ve heard that were operating in Kalimdor.  Baar, didn’t you have a run in with them.” 

“Meh.  Some of their new recruits tried to rob me but they were dealt with.” Baaradon groaned clearly unhappy about discussing the matter.

“Really, ta way ir eard it,  yu gut yur ass handed ta yu.”  Hiru teased.

“Well you can always ask them.  Their remains are still down in the marsh.” Baaradon snapped backed, scolwing at Hiru who appeared unmoved.

“Ah, but Ir tink yu left won elive.” Hiru replied not willing to back down.

“hmph.  Now that you mention it, it did bother me that the leader of the battalion was so…accommodating.”  Baaradon seemed to ponder it for a minute.  “At the time I figured he was just more interested in keeping the rogue alive but, perhaps he was trying avoid attacking too much attention.”

“Ok Hiru, the goblins are always in the know with all the dirt, especially if money is involved.  Scout all of the Cartel’s locals for any information you can find.  Get Parsalyn to help.  The rest of you, reach out to the guild and have them report to me with anything that remotely sounds related.” Wolf ordered, deciding he had heard enough. “Baar, we’ll find her, besides she’s quite capable and very resourceful.  Wherever she is, she’s probably got everything under control.”


Quistadora had completely lost control. She thrashed this way and that trying to break free of her bonds.  She had been prisoner of the Blade for weeks and they had found breaking her to be more of chore than any of them had foreseen.  Frustrated with the lack of progress, Scyrun had ordered her shackled with food withheld.  Her wrist were worn and bleeding from pulling against the shackles and her body bruised from being beaten repeatedly.  Finally, the last of her energy spent, she collapsed on the floor.  The room she was left in was one the few places in the camp with an actual floor  most of the camp was made up of  tents on the sand.  The cell was an old storage room that already been excavated by the slaves.  Before being chained up Quista had seen much of the excavation site.  She was relatively sure she was in Tarnaris. The slaves had been made up of mostly trolls and orcs, even few Tauren. They were working night and day to dig some ancient ruins that had been lost to the desert for centuries.  Quista wasn’t sure what they were after but was sure they shouldn’t be allow to accomplish their task.  

Quista’s body tensed as she heard footsteps approaching.  She struggled to pull herself to her feet, but again slumped to the floor utterly spent. A slender figure entered the room her face masked by the shadows not that Quista was in any shape to look up and acknowledge.  The entire room was dark except for small areas where beams light shown through the aged ceiling. Quista’s chains kept her in place in the center of the room directly in the path of one of the lights.   The visitor stepped closer and Quista leapt forward determined to remove the newcomers head from their shoulders.  The chains held fast and went taunt bringing her charge to an abrupt stop. Then the dark figure stepped into the light.  It was an Orc girl in a plain brown dress, holding a bowl of creamy mush.

  “brought you some food.  It has..”  The Orc suddenly stopped talking.  Her hand slowly fell and bowl slipped from it. Quista watched as the orc collapsed to the floor face down.  It was then Quista could see the dagger in her back.

“You would do well to remember, troll, I can and will kill anyone to maintain order and control of this camp.”  Markesh said grimly and he removed the blood soaked dagger from the girl’s back.  “The price for defiance is death.  Do we have an understanding?”  Quista scowled bristling with pure fury and hatred, but slow it subsided and she sank back down.

     “yes.”  She replied in low tone.

     “Excellent, you will join the work force outside and you will make fine addition to the crew. You work hard, you will be fed and clothed.  If not, well…”  He left it there, looking down at the body then to Quista.  He then turned and exited the room.  Shortly two orges came in removed the shackles from Quista and showed her to her new home, the dig site.


    One month ago…

Quistadora wiped the sweat from her brow, as she drug a sack of cleared rumble from the dig chamber.  Her muscles ached and her body was exhausted.  She followed the train of other slaves dragging their bundles out of the ruins.  She was almost ready to collapse. The only thing keeping her going was the knowledge that it wouldn’t long before she would be free.  The feeling had come subtlety in the night but it was clear and distinct.  If the feeling alone had not been enough she also noticed the heighten tension in the air around camp.  When she had asked another slave, a young nightelf that she had befriended, he told her that three guards had disappeared during the night watch.  That was when she knew for sure he had come for her.  He had finally found her and would be her savoir.  Now all she had to do was hold out for the moment to come.

     Markesh shook his head as he listened to the report from the captain of the night watch. “ Three?”

    “Yes sir, me counted each one.  Three missing.”  The ogre replied.  Another thundered toward them.

   “Found’em, well most of them.” 

   “What do you mean most of them?  Where are they?”  Markesh pressed angrily.

     “In ditch outside camp, bodies torn to shreds.”  Answered the ogre.

     “Double the…”  Markesh was cut short by the most terrifying, monstrous growl he had ever heard.  This was quickly followed by a bloodcurdling scream of pain and horror.  The slaves stopped in their tracks.  In fact everyone ceased moving and the camp went deathly quiet. From between two of the tents stepped a rather large and angry cougar.  In it’s mouth was a blood orge body part that was no longer recognizable. 

     “Where the fel did that come from?!”  Spoke Markesh, breaking the silence.  “Kill it!” Three Ogres rushed the enraged cougar.  This was when Quistadora made her move.   She tightened her grip on her sack of rocks and hurled it at the closest ogre.  The ogre stumbled and turned around to see Quista as she plowed into him.   She wrestled his staff from him and stabbed him with it.  The fight seemed to going well.  Quista was working on a second and third ogre while the cougar finished off the last of his three.  That’s was when the air crackled from the sound of Khorium Destroyer being fired.  The blast struck the cougar and knocked it off its feet. A second shot ripped through its flesh before it could stand again.  Quista seeing this went pale as if a part of her was dying.  She put a swift quick in the gut of one ogre while driving her staff into the foot of the other, and quickly rushed to the wounded animal. The hunter tried to cast a healing spell but couldn’t summon enough mana to do so.

   “Concor, my faithful friend, what have they done to you.”  Quista spoke aloud tearfully. “I can’t heal you my love.”  The wounded cat tried to lick his master, happy to finally be in her presence once more.  A third shot finished it off and it died right there in her arms.  The last bullet startled Quista and brought her attention back to the camp as she focused of the Orc holding the offending weapon. 

     Scryrun leveled his weapon at Quista. “Markesh please, punish this one for disrupting our line.”

      “Yes master.”  Markesh gestured for the  his guard to carry out the order.  Quista fought to hold back the flow of tears.

      “Fine, you monster, finish it! Kill me and be done with it!”  Scyrun just laughed at that sensing they may have finally broken her.  Markesh shook  head as if in answer then said.

      “No, you will continue to work.”

     “ But you said…”

     “That the punishment would be death. Yes, I did.”  He then nodded to the ogres who now had Quista’s nightelf friend.

     “NOooo!  He has hasn’t done anything.”

     “Yes, you are quite right; and he will pay for your defiance.”  And with that, one of the ogres lifted a large axe and lobbed off the elf’s head.  It rolled a few feet from the weeping troll.  They then pulled a young tauren boy forward and again lifted the axe.  “Now, are you going to behave or are we going to have more problems?”  Quista gritted her teeth and looked at the fear in the tauren’s eyes as he stared the elf’s dismembered bodied.

     “No. no more trouble.  Then she held the bloodied body of her faithful best friend close to hers and cried into his fur. 

Posting 20181224

Everyone’s favorite sweet and sassy fay enjoying a moment by the falls.  An enchanted scene depicting a moment of joy captured forever.

Enchanted Scenes: Fairy Falls

Commissioned for a friend fall 2017

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The master of magnetism himself, Magneto.

Artist: CHI

You remind me of better days past.  A distant memory of happiness fleeting and fragile. Like the smallest ember of a dying flame, it was delicate and needy. It should have been nurtured and protected instead it was neglected and left to dwindle away, wasted. So long ago was that time that it has become more myth, a whisper of rumor for few still remain that remember.
In the dark loneliness I stand an ever vigilant protector of that which was left behind. It was here long before and, by my will, shall continue to live as long as I draw breath. There will always be those who seem to exist only to crush it, kill it or simply to push me to abandon it completely, but I say thee nay. Like the stone golems of lore, I remain the staunch watchman and defender against those who choose to spread their venomous poison of despair.
As I promise to protect, that which is protected provides a promise of its own; that that which was lost will one-day return anew. The light shall return and bring with it the joy and warmth not felt in so very long. The long night will end and winter’s bitter cold will end with it, paving the way for new spring to flourish; this time to be cherished, well-tended and kept with great care.
Yes, this has been promised by what was left behind. It’s a small thing; but small things can be powerful. So this smallest of glimmers springs eternal in the lonely dark of the long night waiting patiently for its time to grow, spread and bring back love and happiness.  Until then I wait and watch over you Hope, hopeful.



Posting 20181224

What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet. And this Rose Quartz tree atop a lonely hill would look as lovely  by any name. I had the notion to put that to the test and call this Burp in Progress but decided Rosie Q just sounds better.  #TwistedSaplings #rosieq
Crafted by CHI
Commissioned Spring 2017




Just messing around with one of my favorite characters.

Artist: CHI