The Times, They are A’changin’.

April 29, 2013 § Leave a comment

I’m not one to make political postings, but I don’t think there is any getting around this one.  Orgrimmar is becoming increasingly more volatile.  Even as an Orc, if you do not support Garrosh without a doubt in your heart or mind, you are wrong.  Obviously, there’s not anyone speaking out against the Warchief, and who would.  He’s our Warchief, he’s making the best decisions for the Horde.   But when the Darkspear talked back…

Not just Darkspear.  Trolls.  They are tired of the martial law, they are tired of the tyranny enacted against them and they could no longer stay silent.  

I’ve been watching how the tides of this unrest and the unrest of my own people, the Sin’dorei, move for some time.  Orgrimmar, while a good home for Cursebreaker’s in the past, our birthplace, in fact, is no longer suitable.  It’s been a time that I planned the move with one of the founders, now it is time to make that move.  Azuu’lai, for political interests, has stepped aside but not before making me a Cursebreaker.  The second Sin’dorei to own the name.  

With the name, I take up the responsibilities.  This means the move.  

We’re going to Silvermoon, not going, we’ve moved to Silvermoon.  A beautiful little alcove in Farstrider’s Square.  Salerius Bel’Astrien, my bosses son and my lovers brothers was kind enough to secure the proper permits and papers for me.  Insert my ode to the Magisterium here.  


For now… there’s a lot to do.  I hope this location is a bit busier than the last.  Then I can feel good about the move. 


A Tattoo Denied.

April 20, 2013 § Leave a comment

Yesterday brought in something of interest… a Sin’dorei woman named Arielen.  If I caught her surname, I have forgotten it.  She originally arranged to have one tattoo done, Orcish script over a brand on her shoulder but on the day of her tattoo, she requested a second to be done.  I can work with additions.  I don’t mind additions.  It’s more work and often means I get more than one story.  This is fine by me.  

But, and this is a big one, as I was preparing to do her tattoo, her partner showed up.  Her partner was quite obviously one of the Orcs that had been brought back to life by Arthas.  He looked dead, he felt dead and every bit of skin that showed on him was tattooed and charred.  Charred beyond what I believe to be…just ew.  Ew. Ew. Ew.  As I was looking at him, he introduces himself as Vurk’gol.  The name she wanted tattooed down her left side.  

I was in shock and doing my best not to vomit when I asked if they were romantically involved.  Maybe it’s not my business.  But when you want something cold, dead and…limp up in you and you want it advertised on your body, my reputation is on the line.  

I sent her elsewhere.  Seems this couple is pretty used to the hate that comes with their involvement.  But here’s the deal.  Necrophilia is disguisting.  

Don’t bring it to my shop.  


In other news… Orgrimmar has requested that the employees and owner of Cursebreaker’s Marks of Deed be questioned to assure loyalty.  

This should be fun, if we don’t seek a new location.

Colour My Soul Purple.

March 25, 2013 § Leave a comment

Before she and her mate took off to Zandalar to give what aid and support they could to those still following Rastakhan, Azuu’lai told me that sometimes Cursebreaker’s was just slow.  And in her case, I can see it.  My first week at the shop, with her, no one came by.  Her first week alone, there was nothing but inquiries.  My first two days alone end with two tattoos.

Last night was Kestien Nighthawk.  He came striding in with a million questions, all of them I was happy to answer.  He was easy on the eyes and the ears.  I was pretty damned happy when he wasn’t just curious.  He wanted a tattoo.  The crest of his family on his chest, over the left pectoral to be exact.  In exchange for the tattoo, he was supposed to be telling me the story of how he lost his fingers.  Just me.

But Cursebreaker’s is never ‘just’ me for long.  Two of the ‘Watchers’ from the crew I work with came in, they were checking up on things and got wrapped up in my work and conversation.  A story for a captive audience who was more than willing to flirt the night away became a four-way conversation.  He lost his fingers in the Storm Peaks while on assignment there with a company called, Iron Dragon.  It was a conversation worthy of the mark I left.

A bladed feather, writing the story of the soul.  It seemed fitting for a night I also learned that I tried to kill one of the ‘Watchers’ more than a few times.

The feather of the tattoo was done in black dragonscale ink, the soul spirals were done in a rich purple ink made from purple lotus and beets.  It was low-lighted with a silver ink made from dreamfoil and spirit dust.

It’s a pretty amazing tattoo.

With that said, I have crew business for the next few days, I’ll be back with a need to stab pretty images into skin soon enough.


~ Ava Dawn ~

Pinups and Assassins.

March 24, 2013 § Leave a comment

Before the first war, my crew had this habit of heading up to Quel’thalas and making port.  With a Quel’dorei Captain, it made sense.  However, he came to see this woman and after the first war, he picked her up for a time.  She served on our ship until shortly after the third war.  Her name was Irinyes Starsong.  To my Captain, she was a ink speckled darling who would drink him under the table, keep his bed warm and tattoo him whenever the whim caught.  She also became a friend of mine, some of the first pinup drawings ever done of me were by her hand.  But that point is neither here nor there, she trained me.  She trained me to tattoo.  

All this was long before Cursebreaker’s and we never came into port long enough to stop by the little shop in Orgrimmar. Times were changing.  Business was good and we had Steamwheedle’s goons to kill.  

I guess it’s a little twist of fate that I’d be making a delivery in Orgrimmar when my tattoos would catch the attention of a Darkspear.  I talked her into giving me a new one and in return, I told her the story of how I learned to tattoo.  She offered me a job.  With my Captain being off dealing with his own business, I accepted the offer.  

So, here I am.  In Orgrimmar’s Valley of Spirits, tattooing.  

Last night I did my first since taking the gig.  He didn’t give me a name, and really with those black-clad shifty types, names don’t need to be shared.  Shit, I don’t even give my name out, not all the time.  I mean, I do, but it isn’t my actual name.  It’s my pinup name.  Which isn’t like a Gobbo or Elwynn porn name.  I don’t want folks getting the wrong impression…

Anyways.  I started a sleeve on him with the outline of a dagger on his forearm.  I used a black dragonscale ink.  He regaled me with a story about his first contract on a Defias Pirate ship to take out an old, old friend of mine.  He got to his crew but failed to kill my boy.  And it’d be a damn shame if he had.  Never there was a pirate with such foul breath and massive hands.  

He was a looker when he was younger, let me tell you.  

It was a good story.  And a good reminder of how small this world actually is. 

~Ava Dawn~

Excited Troll.

March 14, 2013 § Leave a comment

I wake up and I know. Today is the day. The day it opens again, the day I begin to collect stories and paint marks. Today. I am excited, so excited that Raj will have to do take care of the raptors for me. I’m fussing too much to get into Orgrimmar.

And that idea seems strange.

Today. We open for the Horde that was, the that will be (regardless of what shape it takes.)
We open to tell the stories of those who lived in these times.

Most importantly. WE OPEN TODAY!

The Gyro With Blue Hair.

March 12, 2013 § Leave a comment

Usually, when you meet someone, they walk up to you.  They say hello.  They introduce yours– that’s not the right word.  Themselves. They introduce themselves.  This was not the case yesterday. No. No. No. 

I spend much of my time at the shop, I hope people will have questions and come by.  I have herbs to tend, jewels to carve and inks to make.  There are many things to do.  Last night, I sit there with Rahak.  He is a Darkspear whose company I enjoy, I actually brought him to this organization I work for to support Cursebreakers.  (If anyone tells you a tattoo shop that only takes stories for payment makes money, they lie. I do this out of my own pocket.  I am happy to do it.) He is a good Troll, he makes me feel old and I am a young Troll.  And he always has peaches… while I am busing myself with stealing his peaches, we hear it.  It’s a crash.  The building rocks. The wall cracks. 

A Darkspear with blue hair crashed his gyrocopter into the side of my shop.  Now I have to fix that.  He his Ajamb’we, but I will forever call him ‘Gyro.’ He believes that the Loas live in everything.  I think his spiritualism went to his head.  

I am told that Cursebreaker’s attracts strange and wonderful things, wonderful not always being a good connotation.  I am not even open and see proof of this. 

What will happen when I open? 


Marou Azuu’lai Cursebreaker

Inquiries and Answers

March 11, 2013 § Leave a comment

There’s been a lot going on and a lot to do.  This Darkspear has been a hectic one.  Zar’jun, she’s laughing at me.  It seems a normal thing for her in spite of all the pride she says she has in me.  I’m told that this is normal, this is the curse that the Cursebreaker falls to.  We become a chicken with our heads freshly snapped off and running around in circles before tossed into a pot.  I think it’s an accurate metaphor as that is how it feels. 

Before I tackle any of the comings and goings, the what dos and what haves, I need to address this. I saw it written in the tome Rinny kept.  She faced a lot of racism in Orgrimmar during her tenure as the Cursebreaker. I think I’m starting to face it already.  The Kor’kron have been to the shop to check our papers.  All of our documents were in order and I was grateful that they leave peacefully.  I am not here to cause trouble or incite rebellion.  I have a purpose and a reason.  This purpose and reason also needs advertisement which the Orgrimmar Daily News does not seem willing to give us.  So.  We will go as Rinny did.  Word of mouth.  Flyers.  It was a slow start then.  Maybe it will be this time and I can return my head to my neck. 

As for the comings and goings, what dos and what haves… we’ll go with the personal first.  I was a born a Mo’ana.  An old family of fisherman.  The details are not important.  I have a papiyo, the Baron turned his back on him and Mueh’zala guides him.  I have a Maman, she is a harpy. We’re not talking right now.  Two days ago, I was made to be the mate of Marou Raj’kava.  The Marou are an ancient family line of seers and priests.  They are bound to Shango.  I became Marou Azuu’lai… but it gets longer. 

Cursebreaker.  The day before Raj and I’s families and our patrons watched over sacred rites, I was taken by Zar’jun into Ashenvale to observe another rite.  The making of a Cursebreaker.  Being an orcish surname and all the traditions attached to that, it had to be earned.  While I can’t go into detail about how it was earned, I did it.  A little battered and bloodied, but that’s how it should be.  

When I had earned the name, Zar’jun gave me the shop.  

In four days we open. 

Marou Azuu’lai Cursebreaker.