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Death of Shoyel Autumnbloom

So this is what dying feels like , Shoyel thought as the arrow of the Undead archer pierced his chest. He spewed curses at the Horde as his body fell down. Shoyel laid on his back listening to his own rasping breath. The limbs were loosing sensation. The pool of his own blood was making his back feel wet. Maybe there's still hope. If the healers find me before... The moon above was gigantic, yet the whole of Darkshore seemed to be engulfed by darkness. Normally Night Elves embrace the dark, but when you're dying in front of a Forsaken militia, the darkness just seemed to snuff out all the hope from the world. Shoyel stared at the gigantic moon above. "This is it then? Will you at least be welcoming me on the other side?" he whispered to the silent Goddess. Then the world went dark. ... The pain of having your corpse being pulled back to life is even more intense than the pain of dying. It felt like dark tendrils were clawing at Shoyel's soul. "Come with me if
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Time Lock

The sound of battle at the outskirts of the city was getting louder and louder. Archmage Samaeus could hear air burning and explosions as enemy mages were flinging their fireballs. Metal hitting metal when a sword struck a defending construct. Loud rumbling of the wheels as the huge launchers rolled over the streets. Demons roared. Civilians cried for help.   The enemy that had been infiltrating Suramar for weeks had launched a massive offensive. Alliance and Horde together. And from the sounds of it, it was not going well for the Nightborne defending their city.   Samaeus was trying to concentrate in his sanctum, but even the silencing spells couldn't keep the sounds of the battle out. Arcane tomes were scattered around the floor, he was frantically flipping pages to search for powerful enchantments, runes, and spells that he could still use if the enemy managed to push further into the city. Nightwell bless us, this is not going well , he thought to himself. "Sire", he
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The meal

The pale moon was shining through the dirty glass window as Amarïs was lying on the bed wide awake. The fire in the fireplace was slowly turning into ashes, and the room was getting colder. Amarïs felt his pulse slowly adjusting, and his naked, purple skin felt cooling as sweat evaporated and dried. He adjusted his legs, but the human-sized bed was too short for the tall Night Elf. The couple on his both sides had fallen asleep exhausted from the playful evening but in their sleep they had hogged all the covers to keep their own naked bodies warm. The female on his right had rolled onto her side and turned her back towards Amarïs while the male on his left was snoring silently on his stomach. Shanna and Broyle they had introduced themselves earlier, downstairs in the dining hall of Goldshire Inn. "Traveling merchants of exquisite spices", Broyle had bowed with a jest. The couple were celebrating a deal with the inn to deliver a monthly supply of spices around the world. The p
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