A Hot Meeting in a Cold Place

Ice Crown was a sight to behold, its enormous spires many hundreds of metres high, towered above all, its structure an ominous warning to all those who wished to take on the might of the Scourge. Surrounding it, many abominations and undead guarded the fortress from all sides turning on all things living that came too close. An aura seemingly leaking from every pore, sucking the very warmth out of everything and everyone.

Reynnawulf shivered as she beckoned her Netherwing Dragon to turn towards the Citadel. Even the dragon, a twisted creature, brood of Deathwing but infused with the Nether Energies of Outland was hesitant to listen to his masters' command, but with a gentle pat from Reynnawulf proceeded to glide toward the spire.

Cold Wind Blowing

Reynnawulf woke up to the twittering of birds, singing to each other
as the sun shone through the wintry clouds over Dalaran. The sun's rays came through the curtains and Reynnawulf had to blink a few times before stretching. Her back
arched, her arms stretched above her head, the curvature of her slender legs, she was the image of feminine perfection.

She sat up in bed, wrapped her bedsheet around and looked outside her
room window. The sounds of Dalaran arose and reached her ears, the
chatter of people below, the clanging of hammer upon anvil at the
blacksmith, the grinding of stones at the jeweller all greeted her
with sound resolution

Even with the shadow of the Lich King that hung over this cursed land
could not drown the spirits of this world of heroes, Horde and
Alliance alike.

Stop the Gold Spam!!!

Reynnawulf stared at the pendant as it glinted in the shining sun, its gold edging around the ruby caught the light magnificently, so bright it was that she had to cover her eyes for the moment before shoving it into one of her pockets in her robe.

“Another day another dollar” she thought to herself as she summoned her drake so she could fly back to Dalaran.

“When are you going to stop these shenanigans with Jewellery” Piprot asked as they were flying over Crystalsong Forest. “You do this everyday without fail and it is starting to bore me. Last week we were in Ice Crown Citadel having a load of fun, but we haven’t been there for the last five days”.

Get that skull off Me!

Power coursed through Reynnawulf as she chanted for yet another Chaos Bolt, green flames flickering around her fingertips. She wished that all her spells involved green flames, she had been mistaken for a Mage so many times she had lost count and it was really getting on her nerves. She put it down to not reaching the heights of power that she had yearned for since she heard the call of the dark arts

Another day, another PUG

Reynnawulf strolled into the Filthy Animal dusting herself off, she had just returned from Azjol-Nerub, killing Anub'arak for the umpteenth time (that annoying bug had created more dust than usual). All she wanted to do right now was to have a stiff drink and a bath before retiring.