Happy Father's Day

[Krilari]

I may be a tad late, but who's counting? Happy Father's Day, CotH! Here's a little story much in the same way Immy did for Mother's day last year. Feel free to post your own IC dedications!

For Relshaz

Spoiler:

Far above the canopies of Ashenvale the sun hangs low in the morning sky. It's beams of light flicker down through titanic trees and flourishing fauna, centering upon a lonesome grove which holds an ancient wooden abode. From all about the flutter of a bush's leaves echo through the grove, heralding the approach of a single cloak-clad figure. For but a second it dared to walk into the morning's beaming light, approaching only to lay a simple wooden box upon doorstep. Just as quickly the shadowy figured disappeared.

Within sat a chiseled geode of silvery ore. To the inexperienced eye it was but a gleaming and glittering chunk of stone, however the smith's eye could see the block of raw elementium waiting to be tapped into, it's dull magnificence partially hidden away by a sheathe of cluttering rock. Beneath the weighted chunk sat a simple letter, penned with as much grace as one could manage while also in haste.

An'da,

I wish you could see how far we've come. I dearly do. I was once your little pupil, a student which you could impress with your iron will, one you could fire with tales of old, one who you know would one day surpass.

I wish you could see how far we've come.

I stand upon the mountain's height now, An'da. Every morning I look to the bannister and see none other than Nordrassil at her core. My face is alit with it's gleaming waters. My allies stand as Wardens, Children of Cenarius, even Shan'do Stormrage stands in our midsts.

Kalah has taken to Winterspring where you once called home and there she keeps her watch under a Warden's own watchful eye. If you could see the joy in her youthful cheeks, the life in her eyes...

I wish you could see, An'da, I wish you could see.

Just beside the wooden box sat a rusted little bird carved from iron, in the grasp of it's wings resting a bouquet of dead flowers and a pollen-coated letter yet opened.

[WindZealot]

As the night fell and Elune began to shower the land in her graceful beauty, one elf sat against one of the World Tree's roots. Ninde Moonwhisper had brought her lyre along with her, which was a first. She strummed it idly as she gazed outwards into the night, and she began humming along with the tune she was playing. Then she began to sing. Lowly, but progressively more audible.

"I know you, I've walked with you once upon a dream…I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam, and I know it's true, that visions are seldom what they seem, but if I know you, I know what you'll do…You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream…"

She knew this by heart. It was among the many things Ann'da had taught her, and now it was the one thing she remembered him by. As she carried on the song, she felt a sadness gnawing it's way up, and soon she was left in tears.

Nearby, a wisp floated in place, observing the elf for the entirety. As she began to cry, the wisp quickly departed.

[Erynn]

For Jyovani

The estate looked to be quiet tonight, only the wind being heard from the outside. There were dimmed lights all around the halls, it seemed they were leading to a specific point on another side of the estate.

It wasn't until one got half way that one would see scraps of ribbons and tiny bits of confetti starting to litter the ground. As one got closer and closer, they could even find spots where paint had touched the ground, though it did not seem the paint was permanent.

At the end of this path was a table, and on this table was a very large board. Many tiny hand prints could be seen, some smaller than others, and there was even a few very large paw prints plastered on it. At the top of this board was a message, the letters rather big and bold, "HAPPY FATHER'S DAY DAD!. To end it all, the hand and paw prints seemed to all be plastered in the shape of a heart.

[Geoni]

I'm doing mine the other way around.

For Mogu'leth

The following is written on what would now be a very old and dry piece of parchment:

Spoiler:

Dear Mogu'leth,

I know that as you're reading this you are three times my size and the subject of ridicule from other Orcs because you were adopted by a Goblin and they tell you that since you don't know your real father, you have no lineage. Your peers are probably going as far as saying you don't have a true identity because your lineage has been stolen from you. There will be times where you'll loom over me with anger and spite because of this. There have already been these times, I'm sure, since I don't intend to give this letter to you until you're a grown man, when you've completed your Om'riggor. Or the alternative, if you've failed it. Or you might still be angry with me over your current situation, tempted to rip this letter in half. But hear me out: no matter what the others say about you, you know better than the rely on other people for your identity. That's not how I've raised you. At the same time, I realize that you're and adult and that you can come to terms with the world through your own mind and your own personal philosophies.

But it's a funny thing. Right now, as I'm writing this, it's a few nights after your fifth birthday. Well...you know...what we 'called' your birthday. You asked me for a weapon, and I provided you with a dart gun. Worried about your safety, I didn't get you a real weapon. Maybe I've crafted one for you years down the road, and you're holding it as you read this. Do you know how you came to learn how to use such a thing? I know you're thinking to yourself, "Somebody taught me how." But I'm going to tell you that you're wrong - you taught yourself. If there's anything I know about you it's that you're an observant learner: you watched a hunter take down a plainstrider with his gun and so you took that dart gun of yours and managed to kill a snake with it. And then I told you that you had to eat what you killed and we had snake for dinner. You and I both hated the taste of snake meat, but you learned the value of making use of what you killed. But I had no idea that at the age of five you would be intuitive enough to make your own little snakeskin pouch from your kill and give it to me as my first father's day present. It's still a little slimy on the inside, but I cherish it. I also think that was the first time I've cried in front of you. And you, being the little cantankerous bastard you were, laughed at me for it. But I was crying because I was thankful.

If you haven't torn this letter up by now I know that you're probably thinking, "I should be the one saying thank you." I don't ever want to hear that. I am always going to be the more thankful one. Maybe you'll write back and disagree, and we can make a competition out of it, but I promise you, I'm going to win. Yes, I've taught you so many things, but you've taught me much more. I've never told you this, but before you came into my life I was a grimy homeless drug addict who had little purpose for living. But, having to take care of a child, I've been able to make so many discoveries about myself, and my potential as a gunsmith. I've even been able to start my own business from it, successfully I might add. In having to take care of you, I've learned a thing or two about taking care of myself.

Maybe one day you'll have children or pets and you'll understand what responsibility can do for you. Knowing you, it'll probably be the latter - you always admired the beast masters. If there's anything I can't envision, it's what path you've chosen. At this age it's as if you're interested in everything one could possibly be interested in. I hope you haven't lost this, but at the same time, I'm sure you'd make a great specialist. But I'm running out of room on this paper, so I'll get to the point. Right now, at the age you're at, you're a great man. Perhaps the greatest man. While you're not obligated to do this, I'd like to ask it of you anyways: stay in my life, okay?

Sincerely,
Your Pop

And now I'm going to turn it around and write a reply from Mogu'leth. Mind, this is 20 years in the future and can be treated as fan-fiction.

For Geoni

Spoiler:

Dear Dad,

That was so sentimental that I almost lost my lunch reading it. And I laughed at most of it. After all, I'm a cantankerous little bastard. And by the ancestors, do I remember that snake! I haven't eaten one since, you know. And sure, I'll save my thanks if you want me to. You win.

But you haven't head from me in over a month. I bet you're wondering how my training has been going since I completed Om'riggor, huh? Well, I've got good news: I've finally gotten the job I've been looking for and I've become an apprentice blacksmith. Her name is Garila and she's probably the hardest Orc there is, and an even harder person to work with. But she's a damn good blacksmith. Better than any other I've seen, so I'm pouring blood sweat and tears into this job. The reason you haven't heard from me for a while is due to the workload. Axes, swords, shields, spears, and many other odds and ends. I'm making them all. Well...I'm helping her make them.

Anyways! She's always so gruff and impersonal, but I think I've finally warmed up to her enough because she's asking me about my life and we're actually holding conversations that don't have to do with her yelling at me. When I told her that my father was a gunsmith, one of the greatest I added, she told me that she wanted to meet you. I didn't tell her anything else, so maybe she'll be surprised. Anyways, you should come and see me at work! You know where to find me.

Sincerely,
Mogu'leth

[Maarten]

Khelynn's father's day

Spoiler:

In a lonely graveyard in Winterspring, untouched for countless millenia a lone Warden walks. Black armour a nice touch to the snowy ground. She walks over to the grave that supposedly holds the remains of her father and she leaves a black rose.

"I never knew you, but you were the reason for my birth. Min'da always told me great stories about you. A great warrior, even in the face of danger." She smiles softly and moves to wipe a tear away from her eye. "I hope you're proud of me, an'da." She sits near the grave and hugged her armoured knees to her chest. "I love you."

She sits there for a few more hours, talking to herself and what she thinks are her father's remains.

Miya's ( @Osvaldas )

Spoiler:

Miya would be sitting on an island, a thought running her mind.
"Daddy... I know you and I got seperated all those years ago... But you're still my father... Even if you're no longer... alive..." She wipes a tear from her eye as she gets to her hoof. "I love you, daddy!" She yells in her native language, hoping he is close enough to hear her.

[FlyingSquirrel]

Fenastik and Sapna

Spoiler:

Fenastik paused, his black-clad feet rooted parallel to eachother on the wooden dock. His eyes were fixed forward on the horizon, the sun breaking over the waves. He always had loved the morning; the sun painting the sky shades of pink and orange, plants and humanoids alike opening and raising to the sun. In his youth, he'd loved it more. He'd almost once convinced his father to chase the sun until the young Elf could capture it and put it in a jar. His father had smiled at the boy, one of the few times, and told him 'If you catch the sun, it would be when it cannot see you, at night.' Fenastik had then received a pat on the back, and been left to his business.

The Elf's eyes drifted down from the fledgling sun to the sea, the ocean's surface wavering in shades of ochre. There was a flicker, off and away, of scales breaking through the surface and dipping under once more. Fenastik's eyes narrowed, but saw no more. The Elf shook his head, banishing the thought of Naga from his mind. Still, despite his best efforts, it hung in his mind. A fish wouldn't break surface like that, not so far out. A whale woul -- whales didn't have scales. He shook his head again. Going to an island was a bad idea -- it only fueled his paranoia. No matter how improbable the paranoia was, he couldn't help but shake the thought that the great, unfathomable sea, had eyes, and that they were focused on him.

He turned around, breaking his eye contact with the ocean and looking back at the island. Those eyes -- were they proud of him? When he'd been young, his greatest desire had been to prove his father proud, that despite his inability to use the Arcane, he could be just as good as his kin. That desire had wilted under the yoke of the Kaldorei, and had been broken when Fenastik's blade first broke skin. Or, so he thought. Beside the dot of paranoia, inkling of guilt dropped into the sea of emotions and assimilated harmlessly. The Elf sighed and ducked his head, walking back on the plank. A boat was soon to be off, and the Elf's eyes glazed over it. His shoulder bumped into an Orc's, and he stepped aside, raising a hand in apology as he continued back onto more solid land.

--

The Orc narrowed her eyes at the Elf as he passed her, watching him go for a bit, before her eyes darted to her spectral grandfather. "The f**k's his problem?" The ghost shrugged, continuing to watch the Orc as she struggled to help move the crates onto the waiting boat.

She let out a curse in Orcish, and the spirit threw his head back and laughed. "You know, you could have paid."

The girl grimaced as she picked up another crate. "This's easier. Besides, I need to learn how boats work, and --." She let the crate drop in it's place, before heading back out onto the dock. "This's easier than reading some book or joining Orgrimmar's Navy."

The spirit shrugged. "Yea, well there's a reason why Thunderlords don't touch the sea."

She pointed a finger at him and shook her head. "No, there's a reason why our branch of Thunderlords don't, and it's because of Haghar."

The dead man raised an eyebrow at her, something few other would've been able to see with his transparency. "Yea, well when a giant can't kill someone and the sea manages to, it sends a message."

Now it was the girl's turn to shrug. "It's a different sea here. Besides, I'm a different Orc than Haghar. You spirits may have near complete control over what I do, but that doesn't mean that I'm bound to recreate your mistakes. I'm not going to pay quadruple the price for a portal every damn time I have to piss on an island -- it's not happening." She looked up at the spirit, who looked away from her gaze.

Behind her, the captain spoke up. "Oy, Orc lass. We're 'bout to head off. 'n' I'm gonna have ta ask you to drop the spirit -- don't want him spooking the other passengers." The two Orcs looked at him and individually nodded, before the captain kept spoking. "We're heading off in about five minutes." The Human focused on Sapna, "And don't forget, it's father's day." He winked, and disappeared onto the ship.

The two Orcs looked from where he'd been to eachother. The spirit nodded his head to where the Human'd been. "Father's da--?" His granddaughter cut him off. "It's a Human thing. They thank their father and everything. Take him out to dinner." She shrugged. "Can't do that for you. Plus, we're Orcs..." An awkward silence cut between the two, and the Orcess moved towards the spirit, before throwing her arms around him. His incorporeal form was cold to the touch, and she shivered as he wrapped his arms around her back. They hung like this for a few seconds, before breaking apart. The dead smiled at the living, and vanished.

Sapna blew on her wolf whistle, Wraith running towards her and following her onto the boat. She helped the sailors get the boat to see, before the Captain sent her the nod that meant she was free for a bit. She found a secluded bit of the ship and sat down for rest and meditation, at least one way to keep in touch with the Ancestor's. She felt her skin melt off of her and her mind reach out, intertwining with those of her ancestors. And then, there was a touch on her shoulder. Her eyes shot open, and she looked at the aged Orc before her as he hobbled to a seat opposite her.

She waited patiently as he sat and smoothed out his robe. She noted with a snarl the meaning of the runes on his clothing, before looking up to his face. he was old, ancient, a relic that should have had brown skin. She raised an eyebrow. He looked at her and nodded, speaking in rusty Orcish. "Hope you don't mind me waking you up. I... have a question. Who was that spirit with you?"

Sapna furrowed her eyebrows at the old man, but hell, at least it was another Orc. Better than Humans. "My grandfather. He follows me around, protects me." She reminded of the necromantic runes on his robe, and took a defensive tone. "Why do you care?"

The old man shrugged. "Just curious. Been a while since I've seen one of those." He leaned back, letting out a groan. "Name's Thug'lok."

Sapna nodded, drawing her knees to her chest and leaning her head on them. "Sapna."