Nathandiel

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Nathandiel last won the day on May 13 2018

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About Nathandiel

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  • Birthday 09/21/1985

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    drmharren

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  1. Nathandiel groaned as he set down the last of firewood by the hearth, kicking an errant log back onto the blanket he'd put down to catch the bits of bark that always fell from the lengths of tinder. He went back to the front door, leaning out into the street. Tarren Mill was bigger now, more boisterous than years before. Aside from the normal development of a healthy settlement that saw growth, Tarren Mill was now one of the nearer Horde outposts to the conflict in the Arathi Highlands to the East. With the Undercity gone, its also one of the more popular refugee towns. He frowned a
  2. Hello TNG, After many years of work, I have finally published my first book. If you enjoyed Copper Kisses in Nether Legends or First, Do No Harm, you might enjoy Claim Sanctuary. Unlike my TNG threads, the book was actually edited. It is available on all Amazon Kindle marketplaces in digital form (US$3.98), and also in Paperback (with complimentary e-copy) on selected marketplaces (US$15.99). I have always valued the input of the community here, and while this work is not related to World of Warcraft, I would be very gracious to have anyone read Claim Sanctuary and provide a review o
  3. What was the statistical inventory you used to get values to feed to the graph?
  4. “I'm not sure this is a fit place for the child,” Nathandiel said, holding Kieran protectively to his shoulder. “Particularly not with one of those here.” He nodded towards the wretched strapped into the chair before the incinerator. “There is no need to worry, I assure you,” Howard Philip Glenn spoke from the platform above, working at a complicated looking control panel. Jets of steam escaped and coloured liquids boiled in large, glass vats. The smell in the room was surprisingly clean, if a little reminiscent of a country fire. “He is quite tied down.” Howard Philip Glinn di
  5. Life in the wake of heartbreak could become manageable, provided the broken individual experienced it enough times to know its tricks. Heartbreak hijacked the body and the mind, it pulled at the chest from the inside and stirred the contents of the abdomen like fingers in a bowl of noodles. The mind's inner pilot argued with itself and it argued with the Heartbroken. What Nathandiel found most exhausting was not the nausea, the sleepless tiredness, or even the tears, but the bargaining! It will all be okay if this; it will all be okay if that. Maybe its my fault for this and if I just fix that
  6. Syreena had been a mess, one large, abraded, raw piece of meat comprised of grafts and replacement parts, not all of which were strictly of the meat variety. Nathandiel had commissioned some of the Lady's tinkerers to deal with some of the less replaceable bits Syreena had lost to the fire. The benefit of that had been getting the magisters in to fortify some of the parts. Syreena would be stronger in many ways, a sure benefit to the mandate, something he was caring more and more about as he faced the emptiness that love had left behind; love for Clara, for Drinn, and then for Baalthamar. They
  7. His soup was cold. Pointless. Nathandiel pushed the bowl aside and looked away; he'd already reheated twice and both times he'd gotten so lost in his own thoughts that he'd forgotten about his hunger. It wasn't a nice hunger, it was a necessary hunger, the kind of hunger that was bad but made numb by a different need: the need for comfort. That was a need that wouldn't be filled. He closed his eyes and put his face in his hands. He couldn't cry anymore, for now at least there were no more tears. A broken heart warranted sufficient crying fits to bring on dry spells and he was
  8. "Nice tits," Nathandiel murmured, nodding at the rack of racks laid out before him. Breast sets, big and small, green and pink, were spread on boards with item numbers on them. It was an impressive collection for parts so highly sought after by men. "Fresh too," Garnard Plimbkin, the prosector that Nathandiel least liked doing business with, grinned as he added this tid-bit of sales information. "Got these 'uns off an orcish bitch with only one arm," he gestured to his own arm. "Titty bits was floppin' about, back and forth. Wild, them orcesses is." Garnard Plimbkin had felt the need to
  9. "Just remember, you asked me for help. Not the other way around." Mharren said, eyeing him from the other side of the table. A man-sized mound covered in a sheet was before them. "So whatever is under here, we're gonna deal with it my way." She aimed on bone-thin finger down at the heap. "Yeah," he said lightly. "That's the idea." He stood and raked one hand through his hair, coaxing it back on his skull so he could secure his skullcap. He'd had it cut recently and he didn't want any bits of his fringe shaking loose over the coming hours and peeping out to look over his brows and bo
  10. "Bad things are happening," Nathandiel said. "It hasn't come to Northrend yet, and it may not, but I just want us to be safe." He explained to Siané as he packed up Kieran's things. She only stared at him, silent, as usual. That's not quite fair, sometimes she talks. Maybe she's depressed about her baby. Maybe, and somewhere deep down he was sorry for that, but she had opted to let the kid go. He would have been quite happy to have let her keep the little girl with them. Now she was resigned to mothering Kieran, and he wished her to do a better job. He'd thought that if she had her
  11. Hi Nath.

    *draws a picture of kittins* 

    bye Nath.

  12. “Hey! Look at me! I'm not a dentist either but this our fucking job so we're going to do it! Yes?” Nathaniel looked up at Mharren, his eyes wide as she shouted at him over the cries of their patient. “Open. His. Fucking. Mouth, please!” She tapped her finger towards the patient's mouth with one gloved finger. Even with her lower face hidden behind her surgical mask her green eyes were sufficient to convey her irritation. Her long white eyebrows furrowed into a V that came to a head between her eyes, accentuating the irritation in her eyes. “Do it now or I'll stab you with the anesthetic.” She
  13. ---For Faylea--- "Come, come skitter bug. Skitter bug, skitter bug, skitter bug boo." Nathandiel beckoned the tiny eight-legged creature towards him from where he squatted at the end of the table, the lip of the old wood under his nose and his eyes wide. He reached over the table and lowered his hand slowly until just the very tip of his middle finger touched the coarse bristles on the top of the creatures ungainly midsection. From where he was positioned he could see it's tiny, terrible little mandibles clack quickly together and apart again as it was touched. It's facial projecti
  14. I'm in trouble. Help.

  15. Please come back.