“I don’t believe I will ever grow accustomed to your silence, Morrisa,” Duncan murmured, lightly swirling a beaker of a thin, violet, faintly luminescent substance. “So many others… well. They all talked. Incessantly. And though I wished for silence, I never realized how… odd… it could be.” Another moment of methodical twirling of the glass distracted him. “Yes. Hm. Quite odd indeed.” He carefully poured the now-pulsating fluid into a thin glass dish and watched it closely.
“I don’t have much to say,” the girl said simply, cigarette bouncing between her lips with each word. “Talk is cheap, as they say, no?” She returned her attention to the thick volume before her, lovingly caressing the edges of the pages as she read.
He grunted in agreement, eyes transfixed by the throbbing mass in the Petri dish. “But I talk to you,” he said, sniffing. “I have told you much of my travels and… adventures, shall we say? I’ve taught you so much.” He prodded at the purple glob with a thin metal tool and the entire thing deflated, never to stir again. He sighed. “You’re an excellent student and quite the apprentice, Morrisa, but is it so much to ask for a little conversation?”
He rolled his eyes. “When I saw you in that inn, I knew you had so much… potential. So much promise. And you have exceeded every expectation!” He unceremoniously dumped the dish into a small bowl of equally-failed specimens. “You have progressed so quickly, beyond the level of students with years of training, not just your scarce few months. I give you everything and yet you spend your waking hours with your nose buried in every book in my library.”
He slid from his stool and turned to face her. Morrisa was completely enthralled with the book before her. Her cigarette burned, now quite ignored, in the ashtray next to her. Her wine glass, still nearly full, was frozen halfway from the table to her lips. She scarcely blinked. Sighing again, he crossed the room quickly. “What are you even read… oh, fel.”
She looked up at him with two deep pools of unending blackness. “Him,” she said simply, tapping a slender finger on the book.
He snatched the book from the table and closed it with a snap, the ancient spine creaking in protest. “No,” he said matter-of-factly. “No, Morrisa. You are a quick study, truly, but that is a bit… beyond you.” The subtle change in the arrangement of her features instantly told him that he had gone about this completely wrong.
“You took me on as your apprentice, yes?” she asked, snuffing her cigarette and lighting another. “For my talent, for my ambition. Not my lack of ambition, no?” He rolled his eyes, shelving the book as she continued. “If this is not ambition, than what is, Duncan? Shall I tell you I will summon a pit lord upon your laboratory? Of course not.” She inhaled deeply, her body tingling as the heady blend of her smoke rushed through her. “No, this is well within my grasp and you know it.” She sidestepped him and snatched the book from the shelf. Flipping it open, she spun the page around so he could see. “The steed will be mine.”
The girl perched on a chair at a table in the back of the inn, methodically separating the leaves from a pungent assortment of herbs and stacking them in neat little piles. Her thin fingers made quick work of the task, expertly stripping the plants of all usable parts before flicking the useless stems into the fireplace. She appeared extremely intent on her work and never lifted her concentration from the table.
An old man sat across the nearly-empty inn, watching the girl with the same intensity. His eyes roved over her tanned, slender body, not at all concealed in the form-fitting blood-red robes she wore. Her hair, cropped shorter than shoulder length and flipping out at the end of spiky layers shifted in subtle shades of blue and black in the shadows cast by the fire. He watched the gold bracelets around her nearly-skeletal wrists clink and sparkle in the lamplight as she deftly divided the plants into stacks on the worn wood tabletop. A blood-red gem dangled from her delicate throat on a dainty golden chain and he mused in passing that it must be cheap costume jewelry, being used to garner her somewhat lacking bust some attention.
He was still gazing upon the girl when she turned slightly to dig into her pack. She produced a tiny box and inside, she found small rectangles of whisper-thin paper which she promptly set on the table before setting about mixing surprisingly exact amounts of the herbs atop the little white scrap. The burly old man snorted to himself in realization: the waif was rolling smoke! His suspicion was confirmed when she rolled the paper into a thin tube and quickly twisted the ends.
He had had enough of watching the youth and strode purposefully across the room. “I doubt yer old enough to be smokin’ that, eh?” he chuckled thickly, setting his ale on her table. “A pretty lil’ thing like you shouldn’t be doin’ it anyway, yeah? A nasty habit, that.”
The girl peered up at him with disconcertingly coal-black eyes. “I don’t really think it’s any of your business,” she replied quietly, finishing the twists on the ends of the cigarette.
The man was slightly taken aback by the coolness of her voice and the smolder of her deep eyes. He furrowed his brow and lifted his mug to his lips. “I think it be my business, darlin’, seein’ as how,” he paused, his eyes darting about in what he assumed was an inconspicuous manner, “this be my inn.”
To his surprise, the girl snickered quietly. “We both know that’s not true, old man. Let’s just both go about our business, hmm?” She motioned to the tiny roll suspended between her thin fingers.
The old man, not one to be put in his place by what appeared to be a mere child, became incensed. “Why, I oughta throw you out, you little wench!” he hissed through gritted teeth, spittle flying from his overgrown beard. “Or maybe I oughta learn you some manners, yeah? A lil’ schoolin’ on how you oughta talk to your elders.” He thumped his mug on the table, ale sloshing over the rim and spilling dangerously near her heaps of plant matter. “Or,” he began with a sneer, “how’s about how to treat yer elders, eh?” He reached to snatch the cigarette the girl was bringing to her lips.
Quick as lightning, the girl lifted her free hand and snapped her fingers, a half-inch flame springing to life at the tip of her pointer finger. The distraction gave the old man pause because, though drunk, he was not drunk enough to stick his hand through fire. The girl rested her elbow on the table, her unsettlingly dark gaze never leaving his own shocked stare. “I’m not here for any trouble, old man,” she said, cigarette hovering between her lips. “Just a quiet girl in a quiet inn in a quiet little town. But if you have the nerve to get that close to me again, well.” She splayed her fingers and the tiny fire spread and grew, multiplying into five inch-high flares dancing across each finger tip. “Why don’t you just sit back down over there before the real owner of this place shows up, hmm?”
The man stood in shock, frozen in a strange sort of horrified fascination as the flame engulfed the girl’s slight hand. Still never releasing his stare, she brought the blaze to the tip of the cigarette. When he still made no move to leave, she inhaled deeply to catch the tip of the smoke, then flicked her hand in his direction. Miniscule sparks silently exploded from her fingertips and found a new home in his scraggly beard.
The man loosed a high-pitched shriek. He dropped his mug, ale bursting forth like a fountain while he turned and ran out the door.
The girl shook her hand to extinguish the inferno, her dark eyes already refocused on her herbs.
The inn was nearly empty. A quiet man sat in a quiet corner, a disquieting smile spread across his face.
I know Tanwen typically gets top billing when talking about pixelfashion and with good reason: she is my ultimate collector and model of all things WoW. Her ‘closet’ is full of beautiful, rare, and difficult (and in some cases, now-impossible) to obtain items mixed with full tier sets and interesting staves.
I guess I’m stuck with my AQ mace and bottle of tears until DW gives up the staff!
ANYWAY. This wasn’t about Tanwen, I forgot. This is about my other Horde girls and their unique, uh, challenges when putting together their transmog sets. So click through for the sets and a question.
Now that I’ve had roughly 24 hours to mess around with the 4.3 features, let’s talk turkey. Or transmog. Or gold sinks. Or whatever!
Getting ready to ‘mog all my characters has been a very fun… and very frustrating… experience. For some of my girls, all of their outfits have been ready to go for years (literally, years) because I’m such a packrat. For others, though, it has been a slog through old content week in and week out, trying to get that one final piece to complete the outfit (Staff of Immaculate Recovery, I’m looking at you! /shakesfist). That being said, I have not completed Real Tanwen’s ‘mog sets yet because there are a few key items missing (such as the aforementioned staff, Chronicle of Dark Secrets, Apostle of Argus, and Crystal Spire of Karabor… wow, I have really bad luck with weapons, eh?) and I don’t feel like the sets are complete until I have them. My Alliance girls, however, seem to be pretty set for outfits.
With four Alliance ladies at 85, I was prepared to have to farm quite a bit for what I wanted. Apparently not! Some, like Bizarro Tanwen, had everything they needed in their bank. Others, like my hunters, just needed a quick trip to the AH to complete their sets.
Follow the jump to see all four girls in all five outfits!
***A note before we get started: Since most of my characters wear robes, there will often times be a link missing pants and (possibly) bracers; this is because they are not visible with the outfit.
Some people may be shocked to find out I wasn’t always so priest-obsessed. Once, I was a troll mage, Fireballing my way through Kara, TK, and SSC. But much like Tanwen started out as a joke (“Me? Heal? HA!”), I wanted to check out the blood elf starting area with the husband. I couldn’t roll a mage, I already had one! What to play, what to play.
And so, Auryon was born.
A blood elf hunter (because my very very very first character was a night elf hunter that lasted all of 10 levels before I defected to the Horde) with cat pet after cat pet after cat pet. After leaving the starting area, I decided that I might as well level her! Soon, she became my PvP character of choice in the golden age of BC’s “Steady Shot macro spam for top DPS” philosophy.
Sadly, she was cast aside in favor of Tanwen when my little ball of Holy Light was still in her infancy.
And that was that.
Er. Except it wasn’t.
WotLK came and went with Auryon hardly getting a second glance. In fact, I think my husband must have felt bad for my poor hunter, because he took up leveling her from 70 to 73 or so. But he had his own stable of characters to level and so it went that Auryon was left all alone and unlov…
Oh, right, not really.
Because Cataclysm was coming! And in Cataclysm, we could have the race/class combination I had always wanted: human hunters. In fact, it’s probably a good thing they didn’t exist when I started playing because my WoW story would probably be very different.
So Auryon began her journey to Wyrmrest Accord to join my other Alliance characters. But Cataclysm wasn’t out yet, even 4.0 hadn’t dropped, meaning I had to choose between night elf, draenei, or dwarf. I figured I might as well fall back to my very first character, so Auryon became…
Saturin existed as a temporary character: a outrunner from Ashenvale with extensive knowledge of northern Kalimdor in general. While her character was enjoyable, it was hard to get into much in the way of regular RP when I knew she would just end up being a human anyway.
Finally, 4.0 dropped. First order of business? Racechange Saturin to…
Abriella Delaunay. A Stranglethorn-raised hunter with a knack for stealth and fletching. (As an aside, regardless of my hunter’s incarnation, guns have never been used; she’s even somewhat adverse to crossbows… they’re all too loud.) She’s young-ish (mid-20’s) and generally in good spirits, especially when imbibing the cheap grog in Booty Bay. And for some reason, animals just seem to like her, despite the fact that she kills things.
SO. Now that I’ve written a novel about my hunter, onto the flag and outfits!
While my pixelfashion obsession started pretty much when I rolled my old main, it wasn’t fully catalogued (at the time, anyway; I’m not sure I have the space to screenshot and document every outfit across every character at this point) until mid-2009. I was in a hardcore progression guild, raiding four nights a week and downing server firsts. But… what exactly does one do once everything is on farm and the next tier of content won’t be out for awhile?
I found the answer in a LiveJournal community, WoW_Ladies. I had been a member there pretty much since I started playing WoW but never really posted. But one day I screenshotted my collection as it stood then and posted it up for all to see. This inspired my post about my mount collection at the time (which will probably come in another post, I have roughly 30+ more mounts now) and, eventually, led to the idea of having a blog about my clothes.
And that leads me to this post. A little walk down memory lane, if you will, back before I completed any of my tier sets or acquired some weapons that I had been farming for consistently. So here it is, my ‘collection’ when I really thought it was complete. Man, was I wrong.
(I don’t have outfit links for these outfits, as I don’t have a complete listing of their components, but sometimes it’s just fun to look, right?)
I live in a relatively warm (read: 115 degree F summers) area because, well, I don’t like the cold/rain/fog/snow in other places. We get snow roughly every five years and it’s basically flakes floating peacefully to the ground before turning into puddles. But it’s been freezing here this winter and that got me thinking about some of my characters and what they wear in cold climates.
Story-wise, only two of my characters have spent significant amounts of time in Northrend (Tanwen and Etana). While Etana’s Northrend attire consists of mostly heavy plate armor, Tanwen definitely dressed more for travel. I know I’ve talked about Tanwen’s Northrend clothing briefly in a previous post, but I am definitely inspired by the need to actually use the scarves I bought more for fashion than function.
Basically, just a mini-update with a couple of my favorite cold-weather cloth outfits.
Etana Newbury is a strong, independent woman of the Warcraft Universe. Her credentials include serving time with the Night Watch of Duskwood, helping to secure the Sunwell on the Isle of Quel’Danas, and holding the front with fellow soldiers in Northrend. She has lobbied for aid for Darkshire in the Royal Court, overcome the tremendous burden of her infant child and husband being murdered by undead, and served the Alliance with pride.
She is here to talk to you about a very grave concern to all female warriors everywhere. A threat more sinister than Kel’thuzad, more warped than Illidan, more depraved than the Lich King, and yes, even more nefarious than Deathwing.
What is this threat?
Yes, I am fully aware that this game is created in the fantasy genre, home of damsels in distress and heroines in metal thongs. I have not forgotten that this game is designed, for the most part, by (and for) men.
But let’s be realistic.
While a lot of this game is suspension of disbelief (as my husband would say, “We’re burying an elf”), I have a difficult time wrapping my head around my warrior tanking Arthas in a titanium swimsuit.
That being said, I have made it my mission to create outfits for her that are the exact opposite of revealing: full plate armor that covers as much skin as possible, providing a barrier between weak human flesh and a dragon’s cleave.
So I present Etana Newbury, proud (and fully-clothed!) warrior of the Alliance.
Before I even start on this entry, I wanted to share this video. Confessions of a Shopaholic is (surprise!) a movie I really like and the soundtrack is really adorable. This song is obviously very appropriate for this entry.
As in real-world fashion, accessories are an important part of WoW fashion. The right boots, the perfectly-toned undershirt, a great pair of matching bracers… these are the things that can really pull an outfit together. Certainly that pair of Epic Pants of Epicness look great without a belt… but how much better would it look if you did add the Uber Belt of Uberness? In addition to tying an outfit together, having some basic accessories/key pieces can really save you on bagspace! And if these pieces aren’t soulbound? Mail them off to your RP bank alt when you’re not using them!
This entry will be about the basic pieces I keep on hand to wear with… well, just about everything. A good number of them common quality or lower, so they don’t bind and can thus be mailed to my fashion guild bank.