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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 on Amazon--even if you hate it! if you are interested, I can provide you with a PDF copy of the book at no charge. If you would like to participate, please email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or talk to @Nathandiel on the TNG discord. My very best regards, Nathandiel
*Warning, this thread will contain NSFW content.* Baal’themar returned to the Cabin late in the evening, the cool air helped relax him after an eventful night of heated conversation. He opened the door to the dark and empty Cabin and made his way through the silent rooms. He walked down to the basement to gather one of the blood stones he had in place to move the Cabin to another location... if the need had arisen. He looked around for Mikki, the Goblin woman he and Nathandiel had saved from her ‘escape pod/death trap’ device, she was nowhere to be seen. Baal’themar finished with the stone, placing it on the floor next to him. The room looked dead, the entire cabin was a tomb… the smell of old blood and rot hit him, he hadn’t noticed when he entered but the fresh air must have stirred up the stench. It’s so quiet now… no laughter, no baby crying and no idle chatter. He felt his guts twist. Alone again. It crept up his throat, the acrid taste of bile. Guilt, shame, anger and sorrow. Feelings made flesh with the sick taste of acidic bile. "Did you expect any less?" a voice in his head questioned. ”Human’s aren’t like that.” The words haunted him. It could have worked… we could have been a big family… why couldn’t you even try? He felt his head spin. “You could have TRIED to make it work!” He roared to the silent stone walls. “You had us both when it started! How was this any different?!” His voice echoed around the dark rooms and hallways. "This was how it was always going to play out… you know it was. If it didn’t end like this, it would have ended in a few years anyway. Don't let yourself feel for a loss that you knew was coming." He slowly let it all slip from his mind, he sat staring at the blood stained stones. The smell started to get stronger, the foul air came up from deep within the basement. "You tried for happiness, gave it a solid try. Nothing to be ashamed of… but you should have known better. You lost sight of what truly makes you happy, that stench isn’t from the rotting family. It’s from work left unfinished, a symptom of your attempt at ‘normal’." He remembered what he was meant to be doing, the High Shield family. He had let them die down here and his work on them wasn’t even halfway finished. The bloated bodies would be in their cells, the sisters only slightly changed and the mother ended without seeing what he had planned. They had died pointless deaths, he had failed to give them the chance to see what they were on the inside. The voice calmly said "Once the paint is dry there is little you can do to change the picture, you can paint over it but it will never be the same... better to start new. Fresh paint and a new canvas." Start over, move the Cabin and continue my work. The thought pushed the bile back down and he picked up the blood stone. “Mikki, were leaving!” He yelled into the emptiness. Baal'themar turned on his heel, his mind focused on something he could change, something that he could achieve by himself. He stormed up the stairs to the main room, the smell of death followed him. “Mikki! Get your shit ready we are moving the Cabin.” He yelled pointlessly to the empty cabin. He placed the blood stone on his bed and gathered his ritual equipment. He was going to do this tonight. No more distractions, work the list. he repeated his new mantra in his head. Work the list, work the list. He gathered the ritual components and headed back down to the basement. He would need to power a new stone to replace the old one, that one had a new and grand purpose. Baal'themar removed his combat gear down to the waist, he set up the ritual candles and burning urns, the smell of burning plants masked the smell of rotting elf. He pulled the curved blades from their sheaths and coated his chest in oils and set about cleaning the blades before the final step of carving runes into his flesh. The wet sound of fresh blood hitting stone helped him focus on the ritual, slowly some of his life force was poured into the stone. It would take all night but he would ensure this final stone was ready… the Grizzly hills was a nice idea, but it was time to move. [c1]