Wildstar challenges, amirite? And then even with all the trouble you never get the housing decor/dye bag you wanted. I DO NOT NEED ANOTHER HELMET I ALREADY HAVE A HIGHER ILEVEL ONE JUST GIVE ME MY DYES PLEASE AND THANKS.
I realize I draw a lot of goofy pics of my char, but in all honesty my dream for her is for her to someday be a Clan Matriarch. Draken are just effing awesome, so this is just my concept of my draken as a Matriarch of a clan. She’s a stalker so I just imagined some claws made of bones and shaped into scythes.
here’s a quick dumb comic i made about wildstar housing because i just paid 25g for the ice pong fabkit to build a skating rink NO REGRETS
The draenei and highborne rushed headlong into the howling winds of the storm. The rain fell at a fierce angle, battering their unarmored bodies. Amaly raised a forearm to shield her eyes, though visibility was poor at best given the darkness.
Squinting, the shaman could just make out the glow of a paladin’s holy aura several feet ahead. Struggling to keep her footing in the mud, she felt Penemuel grip her elbow and roughly pull forward.
Soaked and panting, the two reached their fellow travel companions. Bedraggled and without her usual heavy plate armor, the human paladin Kerain North held her crest of Lordaeron aloft to offer some respite from the downpour. Beside her crouched a gnome, crafty enough to have the forethought to grab both her weapons despite the sudden alarm. Poison dripped from the wicked edges of the daggers, hissing as it splattered against the wet ground.
"WHAT is going on?" Shouted Penemuel, struggling to be heard against the roaring wind.
"I don’t know!" Replied Kerain. "We were dead asleep and just…well." she shook her head, flinging water from her hastily tied up hair. "Just LOOK at our tent!"
The paladin motioned to the nearby tent. The mage and shaman turned in tandem to stare at what was now a smoking mess. The leather canvas appeared to have been cleaved in twain, and the edges around the cut were burnt and smoldering.
"What in the…" murmured Amaly.
"That’s what I said!" yelled the rogue, shaking her head in disbelief. "Though I may have added a few more…colorful words."
Kerain nodded and shifted her weight under her shield. “Thankfully Reyzl and I were sleeping on opposite sides of the tent. It only nicked us a little.”
"Easy for you to say!" Replied Reyzl with a sigh. "You didn’t get the unwanted hair-cut!"
"Now isn’t the time!" Yelled Penemuel, bracing herself against a particularly fierce gust. "Are you sure it wasn’t just a stray bolt of lightning?"
Amaly turned to point at the wreckage. “The cut is too clean, plus there are no scorch marks on the ground.”
"Then I have no ide-" The mage was cut off by a shout from Kerain. In a skillful motion, the paladin pushed the shaman and mage away. The air suddenly grew warmer and within a few seconds the group saw something slash down where they had just been. Amaly marveled as the whatever-it-was disappeared as abruptly as it appeared, leaving the air around it charged with static that tingled against her skin.
Panting, Reyzl rose to her feet and brushed some sludge out of her eyes. “I’m no weaponologist, but I’d almost say that was a sword cleaving us.”
Kerain looked down at the gnome and then back up at the rest of the party. “Frankly I didn’t see anything, but I trust a rogue to have faster eyes than me. I do know that whatever it is felt…almost electric.”
"An invisible electric sword? Wonderful to know what we’re up against, then." Penemuel let out a sigh of frustration as she spoke, bracing her staff against the soggy ground.
Amaly listened to her traveling companions argue, though their voices seemed to draw further and further away. Something tugged at the back of her mind, like a whisper of instinct against the backdrop of distracting white noise around her. The shaman allowed herself to listen, though the whisper was a faint abstract buzz of pictures and jumbled emotions. The rationality of her mind struggled in pained silence to figure out the message.
"Wait." Said the draenei, startling the group. She held up a hand to stop them from speaking. "It’s a storm elemental. A very big, very angry, storm elemental."
"A…what now?" replied Reyzl, quirking a brow.
The shaman stared incredulously down at the gnome. “A storm elemental is what an air elemental becomes when it gets VERY ANGRY. It’s so upset I can barely understand it.”
"Understand nothing." Penemuel staggered forward as another shock of electric current exploded behind her. "What are we supposed to DO about it?"
"I…I…" Amaly stammered as more images and sounds flooded her mind. The rush of jumbled emotions made her stagger. The shaman would have fallen had Kerain not rushed to prop her up.
"This isn’t just one elemental. They’re all shouting at me now. It’s like trying to pick up a single gnomish radio device signal amongst hundreds, except they’re all screaming static at me."
Thunder rang out in the distance. Kerain whipped around to look over her shoulder as the rain continued to soak through even the soles of the paladin’s heavy leather boots. Everyone in the group shot each other helpless looks and waited for the shaman to speak again.
"They’re all angry. Scared, really, but elements are so primitive that fear turns to anger in self defense."
"Scared?" Sputtered Penemuel, "Of us? We’re just four adventurers trying to map the Arathi Highlands!"
"Not us." Amaly shook her head. "With Stromgarde destroyed and the warring ogres, humans and trolls gone, there is nothing left to keep the forsaken from marching in from Hillsbrad." The shaman turned to look in the direction of Thoradin’s Wall, though the landscape was obscured by the violent storm.
"The elements aren’t stupid. They’re perceptive. They know what happened in Southshore and Tarren Mill. They know what’s coming."
Penemuel offered Kerain a wary frown. The emotion in the look the paladin returned belied her memory of the plagues and blight that now stained all the lands held by the forsaken. Decaying flora and fauna, and rivers tinted a sickly green were the Dark Lady’s legacy of conquest. Even the earth grew so corrupted that it melted into disgusting ooze when touched.
Rain cascaded over the tent, drumming a steady rhythm against the canopy. Every now and then a wayward drop would plop down on the draenei’s head, sliding over her damp hair and dripping off her clenched lips. She rolled over in her sleeping furs, hoping to shimmy out of the leak’s trajectory. Finding relief at last, Amaly began to drift into an uneasy sleep.
"AUGH!" The shaman let out a wail of frustration and shot straight up, flinging her covers off in a single fluid motion. She kicked her hooves against the damp grass, throwing a quiet tantrum as a peal of thunder rang out nearby. "I hate this, I hate this, I HATE THIS!"
A figure nearby stirred in the darkness. With a quiet sigh and a quick movement, a small globe of light flashed to life. A high elf with delicate but sharp features glowered in the reflection of the glow from her palm.
"Can you maybe be a child at a more reasonable hour? SOME-" she accentuated the word with a sneer, "of us actually did work today and need to rest."
Amaly gave the elf a cold look from over her shoulder. The only thing penetrating the tense atmosphere were the daggers the two traveling companions shot through their glares.
Finally the draenei spoke, chill and abrupt as a Winterspring breeze. “Perhaps you’d like to trade sleeping spots, then, Penemuel. My area has just such a LOVELY natural feel to it.” Another raindrop sloshed noisily against her shoulder.
"Much like the whole of this abysmal trip." She added in a spiteful mutter.
The mage regarded her with a mixture of pity and disdain. Mostly disdain. Her eyes briefly flickered to the leak in the tent’s roof, then back down to the shaman. Her lip curled into a grimace, marring her beautiful elven features.
"Nobody ASKED you to come on this mapping journey with us, you know. We have plenty of able-bodied cartographers in the guild as it is without a sniveling child slowing us down."
"No." replied Amaly, turning to look towards the entrance of the tent. The flap was slightly ajar and she found the rhythmic patter of the rain soothed her nerves a bit. "Visper specifically asked me to come on this trip to prove my worth. Besides." she toyed with a lock of her now-very-damp alabaster hair. "I can’t sit around the guild hall soaking up resources forever. I need to repay my debts somehow. Even if it means sleeping in a mud puddle."
Penemuel’s grimace softened and her expression shifted to one of sympathy. She shook her head, her azure hair smoothing out over the shoulders of her sleeping robe. With a flick of her nimble wrist, the air in the tent grew cold and sharp. A small cluster of ice began to crystallize around the leaky corner of the tent, slowing the wayward dripping until it finally ceased altogether.
Satisfied, the mage lowered her hand. Within seconds the temperature was back to normal and the mugginess had swept back in, though the magical layer of ice remained.
"There." She said, a hint of smugness in her tone. "You need to learn how to ask for help before throwing a fit. It would save you a lot of time and energy."
Amaly regarded the mage with a pout, but she offered a barely noticeable nod of recognition at Penemuel’s words.
"Besides." chuckled the high elf, swishing her hand through the air to dissipate her magical light source. "I thought shaman LOVED being among the elements."
The draenei whirled on her knees, flinging mud in all directions. She raised her hand in a rude gesture and was about to whip out a snappy comeback when she was interrupted by a shout from outside.
"Is that…Kerain?" whispered Penemuel, holding a slender finger to her lips.
Though muffled by the storm, they could just barely make out their expedition leader’s voice yelling for aid. The two shared a meaningful look and rushed to their feet, pausing only to grab their weapons before bursting out of the tent.