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Grisch
06-26-2006, 01:40 PM
Grisch leaned back against the wagonwheel in Lights Hope Chapel. In one hand he held and Argent Dawn ration which he quietly munched on, and in the other he opened the sorry, bloodstained bundle of parchments he called his diary.

He'd started keeping it a while back. Not sure why, mayhap to keep an eye on himself. Or possibly just so something would be left behind should he be suddenly called into the nether.

He'd been fighting the scourge invasion in the plaugelands for three solid days now. He hadn't taken his armor off in as many days and it itched. A few hours of sleep had been caught here and there in the lulls of the fighting. The lack of sleep brought about strange effects on a mind, and it was thus that he opened his diary to ground himself back into reality.

He idly glanced back over the entries untill his eye settled on one. Reudrick. Ah, a good memory. It was good because he had brought a small bit of light into someone's life. He wondered how the mage was right now. Did he still lurk in his undead infested home? Had he discovered the details on his family? Had any more been uncovered surrounding the mystery of that event?

He'd met the forsaken mage a few days before his journy to Lights Hope. Reudrick at that had contacted another member of Sanctuary through the twisting nether and asked for assistance. In a short time, the call had gone out, and a few Sanctuary members had tracked the mage down in an old abandoned house near Deathknell.

He'd been half mad by that time, his mind struggling for control of itself against the Lich King's icy grasp. Hovering between free will and mindless scourge, he'd babbled and threatened. He'd offered Torlus the chance to join the ranks of the scourge, fighting with the Lich King. He'd condemned Grisch to death as an enemy of Ner'zul and had attacked.

In his weakened state, Grisch had dodged aside from the firebold and the rain of weak blows and sent him sprawling. The blow must have shaken the last of Ner'zul's hold on him, as he became lucid after.

They'd sat and talked. The mage's name was Reudrick, and had only recently begun to regain control of himself from the Lich King. He recalled once being a mage of the Kirrin Tor and had lived in this very house with his family. Some of which still haunted the rooms in their mindless state.

It had been a sad spectacle indeed. Reudrick informed them that he believed that he shared his life-strand with that of another. The reason the Lich King's control had been shaken was that the other was in fact alive. Ner'zul could only control the dead and this extra life-strand had sparked the fight for control that Reudrick appeared to have one.

Shortly thereafter, Grisch found himself and a squad of Sanctuary members sneaking through Elwynn forest in an attempt to find the bearer of this other 'life strand'. They'd come across a living mirror of the mage undead Reudrick. After gathering what information they could on the frightened man, they dodged the remainder of the Stormwind guards who had by now been alerted to their presence, and traveled back to Deathknell.

Reudrick had been most pleased. It appeared that he had in fact a sibbling, a twin.

In return for this information, Reudrick had provided Grisch with news pertaining to himself. While part of the scourge, Reudrick had learned that the Lich King had among other things, targetted Sanctuary and it's leader specifically.

Laughing at this, Grisch contested that the Lich King would take time out of his busy schedule of evil to hunt down a few rogue horde. After a short discussion, they had left.

That was when it had started. The strangers in the crowd. People coming up to him and telling him of dire things to happen to him. Threats, warnings. Letters even. Every time he persued one, they dissapeared before he could get close. Into the crowds, into a doorway, whereever.

He began to sleep fitfully. Checking behind him furtively wherever he went. Maybe it was true.

Grisch wished he was a hero. Like Thrall and Brakogar. Warriors who knew no fear. Instead he was still a simple son of a farmer. He feared.

This is why he had come to the forefront of the battle. His mentor had always taught him to face that which he feared most. And here he was, fighting scourge every day untill he could no longer lift his mace.

He'd seen remarkable sights. Horde and Alliance working together. Their differences set aside for now. Pushing back the invasion. The symbol on their Argent Dawn tabards unifying them for this short time as brothers against the threat they all faced.

As he fitfully tried to doze, a faint smile appeared on his green and battle hardened face. Hope... lingers on.

Grisch
06-26-2006, 01:51 PM
Four days earlier. Westfall.

Grisch and Alteza rode through the abandoned fields that made up most of Westfall now. Skirting pockets of Defias and Alliance, they headed for the town of Moonbrook.

Reudrick had contacted them again. The cult of the damned, a group of free-willed individuals, who sought to aid the scourge and the Lich King for their own personal gain, were on the move.

They were attempting to make contact with the leaders of the Defias Brotherhood. Offering them the power to wreak their revenge against their masters in Stormwind, the cult might yet gain a large army to aid them.

This could not be allowed. Reudrick had sent them to find the messenger and slay him. After searching for some time, Alteza and Grisch came across the warlock that matched the description. His red robe blending him in well to the dusk. He walked calmly along the road to moonbrook.

A moment later, an orc and a tauren dismounted in front of him. Weapons drawn. As much as he knew it had to be done, Grisch always hesitated when life had to be taken. They stood their looking at each other. The cultist angrilly tried to push past them and they moved once again to intercept him.

It was then that the man suddenly threw his arms into the air and let out a painfilled scream. His skin erupting in burning flame, he fell to the ground.

After giving each other a 'Wasn't me!' look of puzzlement, Grisch and Alteza glanced around. The rattling laugh of an undead throat split the evening air.

Peering into the gloom, the two Sanctuary members made out the form of Malebrignon. A figure well known to them. Reveling in the pain and death he had just caused, he began summoning his mount and with a smirk and a wave, he was sucked back into the night.

What was he doing there? Who had sent him? Why him? Days later, the questions still ran through the orcs mind.

He'd sought answers and only found more questions.

((Note, all of the above events have taken place in game. I still have no idea who is running this story or what their intentions are. No idea who the player behind 'Reudrick' is. Regardless, it has turned out to be one of the best roleplaying events I've ever experienced. I still have so many questions... and I'm not even sure if I want the answers yet.))

Malebrignon
06-26-2006, 03:22 PM
((I know ya said Closed RP, but I took that as meaning "only those involved", so.....))

“Stoopid Brig!”

Grooda’s less-than-feminine baritone startled Malebrignon from his meditations.

“WHAT?” he spat back at her.

“Wake up! Yer bein’ looked for.”

Grooda mounted and left in the time it took ‘Brig to collect himself and find his paddle-ball amongst the office clutter. An absent touch of his scrying crystal was all the “voice” needed to reach him.

“It’s time to prove your loyalty.”

“Oh, really? Alrighty. What’d ya have me do?”

“There’s a man that must be killed. A traitor who may reveal our secrets. You’ll find him near Moonbrook.”

“Ummm… I don’t s’pose this is something I can send an underling to do, eh? I’ve plenty of blood on my hands, but I’ve other killers that handle jobs like this.”

“No. This is a test of loyalty. You must go alone and you must kill him yourself.”

“Fine then.”

A short flight to Grom’Gol saw him mounted on his skelehorse, Spike, and riding up the coast towards Westfall. The trip was dull and uneventful until the voice returned to his mind, this time without the aid of devices and completely unbidden.

“The plan has changed. Your mission now is to observe your target. Remember the face of the one he meets with and know that the path to your enemy lies with him. Be ready to eliminate the target before they betray our secrets.”

Brig didn’t bother to reply. He continued to circle the area with Spike. He’d no intention of being somebody’s spy. It was odd enough to be an unknown voice’s assassin.

“Hmmm… well, the information I’ll receive as payment for this is greater than any one life, especially the life of an enemy.” He spoke aloud, to no one in particular.

Moving behind one of the houses on the fringe of Moonbrook, Malebrignon tapped his paddle-ball quietly and awaited his prey.

Many minutes passed. Long enough for Brig to consider giving up the errand from the boredom. Then he saw them. Not his target. At least, not this night’s target. Grisch was certainly not the being he was told to expect. And yet, as he watched, here came his human target. Walking right up to Grisch.

Grisch barred the way, leaving no path for the human to escape. Knowing Grisch to be the “honorable” sort, ‘Brig let him have his fun and try to communicate with the human. Then the voice returned.

“Kill him. KILL HIM NOW!”

“Here’s your precious Light.” Brig muttered to himself as the holy fire consumed the warlock. A cackle escaped his throat unbidden, and the hollow whinny of Spike covered most of Grisch’s words, but Brig caught their meaning. As Grisch began to say a prayer over the body, Brig couldn’t resist calling out.to him.

“Yes, Grisch. It really is that easy for me.”

Noury
06-26-2006, 03:37 PM
((Sorry, Closed I know.. but it had to be said.. this is GOLD.. 8) ))