OOC thread #1 http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/4363778667?page=1
OOC thread #2 http://us.battle.net/wow/en/forum/topic/5912661507?page=1))
In the quiet of the Hall, a woman sleeps haphazardly on one of the stacks of pillows, clearly she did not intend to sleep, for her armor is stacked nearby, and her street-clothes are wrinkled and bunched uncomfortably. Strawberry hair spreads in a sort of halo around Kel'tira Sunblazes face, her mouth half-open as she mutters something in her sleep and rolls over, a hand curled into a fist on the ground beside her nest of pillows.
The Rising Sun Fellowship's leader snorts slightly and jerks awake, sitting upright and clamping a hand over her jaw to muffle a scream. Glancing around her, she curses softly, still breathing heavily, and rubs her temples, exhausted.
Hauling herself to her feet, the Blood Elf glances at her disheveled self in a mirror distastefully and rakes a long-fingered hand through her hair before going about the task of donning her armor silently.
The painstaking task complete, Kel retrieves her black, worn journal from the floor and secures it in the outside pocket of her pack, her guildstone being placed in a pocket at her shoulder. Satisfied, the paladin shrugs into her armor more comfortably and exits as silently as she came, ghosting through the pre-dawn Silvermoon and slipping out the gates, the stable-boy with her mount meeting her.
Left behind in the Hall, a strip of parchment flutters in the air as the city awakens slowly, the graceful script that is Kel's handwriting covering the page neatly, the document left for all who visit the Hall to see.
My friends, my family, my people. My sisters and brothers, my companions, comrades, and helpers. Stand strong. Stand tall. Face down fate with bold steps and bolder words. Let none disgrace us, our Fellowship. Let us stand in the face of the unknown, with only each other to guide us, to help us. Let our bonds be strong, let our friendship be fast.
Let the events of the days that we endure bind us together in heart, body, and mind. Let our goals become one and the same, let our sorrows be lightened by sharing, and our joys increased tenfold by friends.
Step away from the pain and suffering, and embrace the joy, the love, the laughter, that we bring to one another. Remember always our code, remember always why we stand united.
Valor. Loyalty. Love. Piety.
Remember the dead, but let them go, learn from the past, lest it be repeated again.
"We must be strong individually so we can be invincible together."
Light bless you, and Light guard us, that we may be the best we can be.
For the glory of the Horde, for the glory of the Rising Sun Fellowship!
Alongside the poster is a wooden board, scarred and burnt, the wood soft, clearly meant to be used to communicate with others in the case they cannot be reached in person or over the guildstones. Currently, the only thing on the board is a smaller sheet of paper written in a neat, square print, it is a list of names and a word or sentence alongside each.
The lost endure in our hearts, our minds, honor their memories.
Kara Vaelia -- Yetimus
Traly Song -- Murlocs
Keladryn -- Falling off of a cliff
Tyrael Firehawk -- Demons
The Sunblaze child -- Who could have been raised one of us.
Kel'thul -- Who despite all he did to us redeemed himself.
Holding the strip of parchment to the wood is a stylized dagger, the connection of the hilt and the blade circular, the hilt itself curving fancifully towards the blade, the three lines forming a heavily idealized rising sun. The whole knife is drenched crimson with dye, and a red gem winks from the pommel.