Bronze & Sage

His wards were gone.

Coren forced himself to smile as he watched them fade beyond his sight and into the great Astral Sea. He would miss his wayward charge and the misadventures he had gotten himself into, the watcher felt he would miss even more so the offspring he had sworn to protect. The sunshine girl warmed his heart especially. But the time of mourning and being sad was long past or perhaps was yet to be, time was a fickle thing for him.

Time was never linear for those of the dragonflight, that was the hardest lesson to learn. A dark skinned hand would come to stroke at a feathered beard of his current visage, the same wayward eyes of emerald green searching the bluffs of Mulgore under a blue sky. Sand and sun were what his liege craved, but for a creature such as him change was what he craved. Always something different.

The same dark skinned hand would softly turn and thrust as sprig of power was used to summon a shifting orb. Coren's eyes would delve into those swirling sands, a soft delight rumbling in this chest at the idea of 'pondering his orb'. Least that's what he supposed was the way the people were these days.

These days.

How long had he been here? Or been this way? Was he a man? A dragon? A god? No. Coren was just Coren. A servant of the Bronze Dragonflight, a guardian of chosen, and a wanderer of the multiverse. The Word had spoken and here he was. Nothing more. Nothing less.

There was nothing to question.

His chosen was free now. Free of the cycle by their choice and his joy at the final gate passed just like his sorrow. Fleeting. Warm. Accepted.

It was time to find another. Or more. Or less. The Word would will as much as the sands shifting within the glass.

A burning ship. A broken son. A broken grin. A burning fury.

Familiar traits, familiar story, and one that could be focused if properly propelled. He'd done it once.

Why not again?

"Take me," a soft baritone slipped among peace.

A blue sky stretched far and wide carrying lazy white clouds and the wisp of hot breath mingled with dimming grains.

Sev eased the goblin brace from his leg with a sigh, the metal clicking as the leather released sending both a flash of pain and slow aching relief through his body. His gnarled hands would handle it with enough care to let it drop with a heavy thump beside him as he leaned back into his chair with a low groan.

"You alright in there, lover?" The whimsical voice would filter to his ears with the mystical laughter of the sin'dorei he'd met in the Drag earlier. The sound made him all the more eager for the events they had agreed upon. It wasn't love and it wasn't really lust, just good business.

The orc would begin to shift off his belt buckle and let the thick kodo match the drop with is brace as he began to fidget out of his trousers. A wince would make his ruined face curl up a bit in pain as his back shifted but he managed to shimmy them off to add to the growing pile of his things. "Oh yeah, just fine. Just gettin comfortable is all."

There was an approving hum from the closet the elf had escaped to. "Just don't get to comfortable, you promised a lot more than just gold."

A guttural, grunt of a laugh rumbled from the thick chest of the thief as he pulled off his bandana letting his eyes roam over the battlefield of his body. Green skin was littered with a multitude of white scars, patchy skin, and bruises that probably should have healed a long time ago. The body was no stranger to showing off the history of violence Sevlaz had kept in his long years.

His gaze lingered on the knee.

One was rounded and normal, maybe a few wrinkles and scars for sure of well used from his time of running and doing whatever people did to stay afloat. Green and whole. The other was a far different story.

A hunk of it was missing, a large missing gap from half the thigh to shin easily seen through. Tethered by a butcher's hand and whatever tools his benefactor had had at the time of his pull. It was pausingly ugly from the scar tissue and damage done. Skin had been pulled and covered the shards of bone that had been, magic doing it's best to heal the wound. Shame it couldn't regrow what had been cleaved from him.

Zexx.

The rotten little shit who had killed all that they had held dear for so many years. He had been a quick learner, a fierce fighter, and a good friend. Shame pride and arrogance had soured his heart to much. Burned it all down to the ground and left him for dead in a pool of himself to match the rising seawater.

'I am not your son.'

He could still hear the phrase clear as if it was still happening at this very second. For the rest of the world it had been years since the sinking of the Wayfarer, but with the way time worked for him now it had only been a few months ago. The past was his present.

A thick finger would gently trace the curve of the ruined knee as he felt his ruined lips turn down a bit in a grimace hidden in the shade of his forever grin. Revenge would be nice to inflict on the human. But was he even alive? Were there any Candells left in this world? Or was he just left to gnaw on this forever?

"Hey pretty boy."

The orc blinked and looked up in the frame of the closet doorway. A golden haired silhouette stood with her hands gently steadying herself, a beauty framed in the low light of this room they'd rented in the rest. Gossamer curtains did little to hide what she had been wearing a few moments before, but the bright glowing green eyes told Sev enough of what was to come.

"Permission to come aboard?"

Whatever downturn of his lips shifted back into a hungry, ugly grin as he lifted away from his knee and outstretched his hands to her. "Granted."

@safrona-shadowsun

Blue light shimmered and throbbed into life as it gently swirled about the blood elf's shoulders to caress along her neck. As the light began to grow firmer into reality the shimmering scales began to spread wisps of energy to give it substance. Spines, tendrils, and ethereal wings of magical energy pulsed from it's lithe body as the wyrm gained presence completely as it flowed over Noell's frame. A soft hiss would reverberate from the strange collection of tendrils and gills that made it appear more of a fish than a serpent.

Noell's hand would gently reach up to stroke just barely across the space caught in this dimension as the mana wyrm broke the barrier easily to come into her own. A soft smile would fill across her lips as she sighed to the creature. "Silly serpent."

A soft clicking flare of gills would rattle into a harmonic hum as the elf traced the top of the wyrm as it glided across her brown skin. "Thank you, Melf. Good boy."

The serpent would hiss again as it continued to glide about the air, the hazy purple eyes of the blood elf trailing the blue light of the wyrm as the fel rock blurred her thoughts. Such a good boy.

@safrona-shadowsun

There was a clang of a hammer as Erik tossed it in the toolbox with a low curse. Peering about from the side of the wagon, Lars'on tilted his own vulperan head in confusion. "Everything alright?"

"This is so dumb! Why the hell are we doing this?!" The younger of the pair cried back, his growing hand thrown into the air in exasperation.

"Well it's my job," Lars responded firmly but calmly.

"It's not mine."

"But it could be," the older fox further moved around, his bowed legs bouncing him gently over as he reached into a pocket of his vest to produce a red wallet.

Erik slumped down into the sand as he crossed his arms looking as surly as he expressed at the dirt beneath his tail. Lars stood still pulling out a cigarette from the wallet and placing it in his snout with a sigh.

The pair let the silence rest but for the snap of an old match and smolder of the stick.

"I hate the desert," Erik whispered softly.

Lars said nothing as he took a deep drag.

"I hate this work."

The puff of smoke blew out into the sky and drifted away in a haze leaving only an acrid harsh scent.

"I hate this caravan."

Erik bowed his head into hands and sat quiet again for a few moments. Lars took another drag.

The silence continued to rest between them as the sun beat down and made invisible bugs sing their drowning tune.

Eons stretched int he silence before a sizzle and flick broke it and Lars finally spoke. "You done?"

Erik sighed and nodded.

"Get the hammer and get that wheel off," as the older vulpera stalked off back around to his own work. Erik watched his step-father mosey and nodded softly.

"Back to work."

@safrona-shadowsun

The heavy iron pan spun in Erik's hand as he let his snout pull back in it's casual grin. "A weapon for sure against hunger. I try my best to be more of a provider than a fighter."

Erik gave a soft shrug as he tossed the pan onto the grill grate to begin heating up before grabbing a couple of thick raptor eggs. "But Azeroth isn't exactly the safest place for the little guy."

Whites and yolks spilled into a bowl with a couple of plops before the shell made their way below into the fire. "So you gotta be as wary, mindful, and prepared as you can."

A handful of scallions were drawn from a nearby box before they hit the cutting board only to be followed by a heavy chop of a thick cleaver. "I do my best to be versatile but sometimes we gotta be blunt."

The greens were made short work by the knife as smoke gently rose from the warming pan. "You want meat with this or just the usual?"

"Be lying if I said I didn't enjoy this constant dusk," Sevlaz as he took a short pull off the 'borrowed' cigar he'd picked up in the Wayfarer. His thick arm resting against the window as he looked out over Silvermoon City with his ruined grin always on his face added to the air of his presence. Ugly as sin but doing his best to enjoy the second chance at this.

"Always thought it more dawn than dusk," murmured the playful and musically toned voice behind him, the pale thin hand coming to wrap behind his green chest and trace a number of stories on the skin.

Sev drew his hand up to idly toy back at the elf's hand with a flemmy chuckle before coughing. "This one of them half full or hall empty kind of things?"

There was soft nip between his shoulder blades sending a shiver into the smaller figure's grip. "Depends on what you're filling."

Cigar butt flying out the window and into the streets below was answer enough of what the 'survivor' intended to do next.