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Draenei prompt list for the month of December [link]


The flames were familiar. They licked at his flesh just shy of burning him. Too warm, too close for just a simple summon. This voice too, sharp and confident, the popping and crackling that flavored his Ignan was also somehow unique to the Elemental. “Shaman, I should say I’m surprised, but I have an idea what this is about.”

“Welcome.” Mosur spoke in common Kalimag and kept his tone paced and even. “I want to understand what your deal with Greyscale is.” He watched the form of the fire elemental waver over the filigreed totem.

“So you are who she learned my name from,” he sounded pleased with himself. Happy to be right. “The young Dark Iron is a friend of yours then?” He choose not to answer unasked questions from the shaman.

“I am, and she is at least an acquaintance. What bargain does she have with you?”

“She has no bargain.” He crackled.

“What hold do you have over her?” Mosur continued the paced questions without missing a beat. He knew you had to ask the right questions to get answers you were actually looking for.

“Nothing is free. Everything has a price. Power demanded. Commands woven in runes. Blood spilled freely. Words of power spoken in ignorance. She belongs to me.”

Mosur sat unmoved by the words that sparked from the elemental. He had already feared these things based on what he’d heard her speak, based on the parchment she’d given him, his translations and understandings of the runes she used in the circle she wove. “Is there a bargain or deal that might be reached to end or limit this?”

The flames roared and crackled as if the question had disrespected the elemental greatly. “She is the one who should be speaking with me, not some other shaman.” The roaring of his flames calmed and his words continued as if another idea suddenly came to his mind. “But she is spirited, obstinate, and overall uncivil.” He leveled his gaze with Mosur’s and fell silent for several moments.

“So you are reconsidering?”

“I am considering something. Yes. I would trade her service for that of another. For someone more worthwhile. For someone worth my time. For someone who would keep their end of the contract.” His gaze didn’t waver, and there was no question what his suggestion was. What the deal was. “I know what you’re capable of, even outside a shaman’s reach. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes.” Mosur said, the words tumbled out of his mouth in an almost surreal way. Everything seemed to move too quickly and Mosur felt light headed as the flames danced before him stoking atop the totem. Fenix reached out with both hands grasping each Mosur’s wrists. A searing pain shoots up his arms as the elemental’s hands burn into his skin. The elemental fades away disappearing back to the Firelands leaving Mosur in pain and with two raw burns around each wrist.

Mosur gasps. Everything is dark and his breath comes quickly and uneven. His left hand wraps around his other wrist, his good arm. It’s cool to the touch.

“Mosur, what is it?” A grumpy and tired voice gives him something to focus on and pulls him from his terrified confusion.

“I didn’t mean to. It just all happened so fast. She told me to never.” Words of a woman long gone, long past came back to him. He was precious, he should never trade himself for others. They made their own messes. Dug their own holes. Pressure squeezed against his chest and it was hard to breathe.

Saashenka, more awake now that she saw the way his aura swirled heard his confused ramblings touched with regret and terror. “Mosur, it’s okay. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.” She repeated hopeful that it was. He hadn’t told her of anything ill he’d done and she had faith now he would tell her anything.

His breathing didn’t slow, nor did the beat of his heart at her words. He put his hand to his other wrist ringing it around feeling for the burn, the raw flesh, another mistake.

“Mosur, we’re home. Mosur, look at me,” her tone held an edge of command to it that feathered off in worry at the frantic swirling of his emotions.

He looked to her, it was dark, but he could feel the impression she caused in the bed and had heard her voice. A ragged breath was the first slow exhale he managed as she placed her hand on his upper arm.

He reached out with both arms quickly and wrapped them around her pulling her close and tight, squeezing her to his chest. Another uneven exhale followed and he tucked his chin over her shoulder. “Saaska. Saaska.” He managed only. He felt her arms weave around him and tighten around him.

“I’m here,” she whispered and tilted her head against his.

Author Mosur
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Comments (1)

  • Sielic
    December 3, 2018 at 11:24 pm
    Mosur stahp.

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