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Description
Whew! First thing I draw in months and its a speed painting that’s angsty af! For real tho, I have just been playing a lot of WoW and also been sick all week so I did this this arvo and I’m quite happy it turned out like I had in my head.
Also I wrote a thing that’s kinda bad but I wanted to show that my dude wasn’t a womanizer ALL the time in his younger years.

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“I’m too old for this..“

A goblin rogue muttered to himself as he stalked the forests of Ashenvale. Sour that his relatively quiet life had been upended by yet another Horde-Alliance war.
Fighting the Legion was something he could get behind. But this? This?

Scowling at what remained of Astranaar, Marax easily recalled the last time he was here. It was when Nymrina had gone missing and he enlisted the help of both Rusty and Copperwell to track her down.
At least back then, the town wasn’t on fire.

What a fucking waste..

He thought as he trudged away from the heat and smoke. His own weapons dripping in blood, the rogue had made sure to dispatch only the ones that could actually fight back. He wasn’t about to murder civilians.
Once more frowning at nothing as he recalled the forsaken rogues, overzealous in their thrill of clearing out Astranaar. His pointed ears flicked in irritation, as if doing such a thing would rid him of the screams he could still hear.

It was then in his idle, frustrated and roiling thoughts that he didn’t pay attention to what was in front of him and he almost tripped over something. Stopping in his tracks, he felt his heart wrench in his chest, breath stalling.

Marax was used to coming across such things in his many years. This dead night elf was just another in the hundreds he has seen that very day, but this one stood out from the others. Already his mind wandered over when he last saw her, over a decade ago. She had been wearing a lovely, shimmering dress and had her emerald hair done up in an elegant fashion. Her ears- longer than his, had many sparkling jewels dangling from them, almost as bright as her eyes that shone like the full moon.

Now she was in sentinel armor. The chest plate cracked as her crimson blood pooled from it. Her hair was dirty along with the rest of her from battle and her eyes.. Marax couldn’t help but fall to his knees beside her, blinking back tears as he gently tilted her lifeless body towards him. Her eyes were dim as they focused on nothing.

The old rogue didn’t see her for long, but it was long enough that finding her in such a way, brought him low. They had parted on good terms, the last he heard from her, was that she was aiding the Lightforged in getting settled in Stormwind. He had assumed she was safe from this. But of course.. she’s a night elf. She would have heeded the call to battle in defense of her homeland.

It still wasn’t easy. Marax felt his chest ache and a sob escaped his scarred lips. Internally berating himself for being so weak, but he was just.. so tired.

So very tired.

Description
Whew! First thing I draw in months and its a speed painting that’s angsty af! For real tho, I have just been playing a lot of WoW and also been sick all week so I did this this arvo and I’m quite happy it turned out like I had in my head.
Also I wrote a thing that’s kinda bad but I wanted to show that my dude wasn’t a womanizer ALL the time in his younger years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m too old for this..“

A goblin rogue muttered to himself as he stalked the forests of Ashenvale. Sour that his relatively quiet life had been upended by yet another Horde-Alliance war.
Fighting the Legion was something he could get behind. But this? This?

Scowling at what remained of Astranaar, Marax easily recalled the last time he was here. It was when Nymrina had gone missing and he enlisted the help of both Rusty and Copperwell to track her down.
At least back then, the town wasn’t on fire.

What a fucking waste..

He thought as he trudged away from the heat and smoke. His own weapons dripping in blood, the rogue had made sure to dispatch only the ones that could actually fight back. He wasn’t about to murder civilians.
Once more frowning at nothing as he recalled the forsaken rogues, overzealous in their thrill of clearing out Astranaar. His pointed ears flicked in irritation, as if doing such a thing would rid him of the screams he could still hear.

It was then in his idle, frustrated and roiling thoughts that he didn’t pay attention to what was in front of him and he almost tripped over something. Stopping in his tracks, he felt his heart wrench in his chest, breath stalling.

Marax was used to coming across such things in his many years. This dead night elf was just another in the hundreds he has seen that very day, but this one stood out from the others. Already his mind wandered over when he last saw her, over a decade ago. She had been wearing a lovely, shimmering dress and had her emerald hair done up in an elegant fashion. Her ears- longer than his, had many sparkling jewels dangling from them, almost as bright as her eyes that shone like the full moon.

Now she was in sentinel armor. The chest plate cracked as her crimson blood pooled from it. Her hair was dirty along with the rest of her from battle and her eyes.. Marax couldn’t help but fall to his knees beside her, blinking back tears as he gently tilted her lifeless body towards him. Her eyes were dim as they focused on nothing.

The old rogue didn’t see her for long, but it was long enough that finding her in such a way, brought him low. They had parted on good terms, the last he heard from her, was that she was aiding the Lightforged in getting settled in Stormwind. He had assumed she was safe from this. But of course.. she’s a night elf. She would have heeded the call to battle in defense of her homeland.

It still wasn’t easy. Marax felt his chest ache and a sob escaped his scarred lips. Internally berating himself for being so weak, but he was just.. so tired.

So very tired.