Broxigan
10-23-2008, 10:55 AM
[Thread titles aside, this is a closed story of Brox's take on the whole zombie thing going on. I figure we had a Day of the Dead about people who get turned into zombies, I will do a story about Brox from the other side. :D]
Reports had been flooding in through various means that something dark and sinister had been going on throughout Azeroth in the past day. Most were hard to believe, some were right out. A plague was spreading, infecting thousands, and the numbers growing every second. The first wave of reports had come in from Booty Bay and from there, it spread like wildfire. There had even been sightings of sickly people as far as Winterspring.
Hours after the first reports began, sightings of ‘zombies’ began to flood the lines of communication. Those infected fell ill quickly. Those who did not seek help soon fell, but arose in a new fashion. Their bodies reanimated by some force, seeking blood and gore from anything and everything around them, even their own comrades.
The Argent Dawn had moved out setting up outposts throughout the cities that would allow them in, curing the infected, spreading hope and light amongst the people of both the Horde and Alliance.
But, it almost seemed to be for naught. Further and further the news of infected people and ‘zombies’ spread. Brox had been listening quietly through the enchanted stone that each soldier of the Horde and even Alliance was given. Outposts calling for help and reinforcements before falling silent hours later. It made his stomach turn and his mind race with what could possibly be causing all of this.
The first place to check out was Booty Bay, the first reports had come from there, so what better place to start than the source?
Brox nodded to himself, “Vee, we need to head down there. Something is wrong and we need to try and see if there is any way we can help.”
The small mechanical squirrel chattered and beeped on the table that Brox was leaning upon the stone that had been spilling reports of everything sitting in the middle of the two of them.
“Well, yeah, of course it will be dangerous. But there are a lot of people who will be in danger if nothing is done, you know?”
The squirrel let out a low tone, almost growling as it scurried across the table to sit infront of Brox, tiny mechanical arms crossing over it’s chest.
“Aw, come on. What could possibly go wrong?” With a grin, Brox pushed himself up from the table, moving over to one of the lockers he had that lined the walls, reaching in to grab bits of his armor, sliding it on one at a time. He wore his mail, enchanted with Shamanistic spells and guards. Latching one piece on at a time, he readied himself, grabbing his shield, sword and Gorehowl, just incase.
“Come on Vee. We have some exploring to do…” Brox dramatically held Gorehowl in one hand, slung over his shoulder as the mechanical squirrel leapt from the table and crawled up the Orc’s body, coming to stand on his shoulder.
----
The ride upon one of the bats towards Booty Bay was rather dull. Vee described the landscape to Brox as the neared the southern lands of the Eastern Kingdoms. Fewer and fewer bodies of living people could be found, some of the shapes had seemed to move along slowly, others attacked other shapes.
The bat screeched as it near the border of Stranglethorn, turning around sharply, nearly throwing Brox and Vee from the saddle upon it’s back.
“Calm down! Just let me off here! Damn…” Brox yelled at the bat, calming it if only for a minute while tugging on the reigns. The bat dove towards the earth, quickly throwing the orc off of it’s back and darting off towards the north frantically. The two of them rolled off the road and into a tree.
Brox groaned and sat up, shaking his head, “What crawled up his ass…”
Vee climbed back up and made perch upon the top of the orc’s head as he gathered himself up, strapping the weapons tighter on his back before heading southward, through the pass that lead from Duskwood into Stranglethorn.
As Brox marched across the bridge, the sounds of the birds and animals of the jungle did not seem to exist. All he could hear was the whistle of the winds through the thick trees. This was a cause for worry, he thought as his brow furrowed deeply. He rolled his shoulders and continued down the path.
The jungle was eerily quiet. The animals that would usually jump out here and there seemed to stay hidden, where ever they were. Usually, the barbaric trolls of the area could be heard chatting amongst themselves, holding rituals or just finding some poor unsuspecting soul to slaughter for their own gain.
Nothing was heard. The usual patter of commoners, traders and warriors marching up and down the path that lead to Booty Bay was empty. The brush rustled quietly with the blow of the wind. Brox dropped one hand down by his side, pulling up one of the four totems that lined his belt. His thumb brushed over the markings as he muttered quietly to himself, reaching out to the spirits of the wind.
”North. North…..north…..”
Brox shook his head, setting the totem back where he had grabbed it, frowning. “This is not good. Even the spirits don’t seem to want to be around whatever is here. Very odd…”
Vee chattered from Brox’s shoulder as the creation looked around the area.
The walk southward continued slowly as the air seemed to grow more…well, dead. The sounds of the area had died away, all Brox could hear was his own footsteps, the whirring of the gizmos inside of Vee and his own heartbeat in his ears.
The sun had begun to slowly set in the west, the air growing cooler.
Without warning, something lunged out from the brush at the side, screeching loudly and it had very nearly made Brox drop a load in his pants. But Vee let out an alarm and Brox pulled Gorehowl from his back, wildly swinging it at whatever it was. The thick metal made contact with something soft, then a loud crunch before a thud hit the earth.
Brox breathed loudly as his heart raced, letting out a slight snort as whispered to Vee, “What the HELL was that thing?” Vee looked over the disfigured body that lay in a bleeding heap at the orc’s feet. A body, around five feet, possibly more. Wounds covered the body, slashes here and there. As for what it was, Vee could not say, but it wasn’t living now…and there was no way it could have been before. Brox dropped to one knee, leaning down to place a hand upon the body before something else caught his attention.
“Help me!” came a small voice screaming at the top of their lungs in Common. The sound of feet hitting the earth came soon after, the rush of footsteps growing louder, approaching Brox. “Oh my gosh, get them away from meeeeEEEEE!”
A gnome leap from the bushes on the other side of the pathway, letting out blood curdling shrills as he crossed the road and continued through the brush on the other side. Seconds later, five bodies emerged from the bushes, obviously chasing after the gnome. They groaned and growled and gurgled as they gave chase.
Vee instantly let out a small report for Brox, noting that they were, infact, reanimated dead beings. No life signs were visible, no pulse, nothing. But there they were, chasing a gnome. And Brox sat there, in a stunned silence as the zombies crossed the road and disappeared into the brush, just as the gnome did.
“Well…um…that was weird…” Brox continued to stand there for a few more moments, mulling this over in his head. So, zombies had risen from the dead, it would seem. Scourge. That is a simple answer. But as far as he knew, the Scourge had no sort of forces in the southern lands. Or at least nothing that was of any threat. Yet, plain as day they were here. Or at least some. But then why would the reports say that people were getting infected if it was just Scourge? It couldn’t be the reports had gotten—
His train of thought was derailed as the gnome from before had leapt and tackled the orc to the ground, more by surprise more than the gnome’s strength. “HELP ME!” he screamed in Common as he grabbed the orc by the collar, looking into his face with a look of fear. The tiny gnome trembled as he stood on the orc’s chest, attempting to shaking some sense into the green skin.
“Okay!” Brox yelled back in Common, growling. “Get off of me and I will take care of them, gnome!” Brox pushed the gnome off and quickly got to his feet. He strapped Gorehowl back over his back and grabbed his shield, holding it in his left hand as he left his right empty. He held the shield up, licking his lips as he left his right arm limp at his side, his fingers wiggling slightly as sparks of lightening jumped from his fingertips, curling around his hand and palm slowly.
The gnome stood behind the Shaman, trembling, peeking out from behind his leg towards where the zombies would be coming from. Within moments, the gnome screeched out, “Here they come!” One stubby little arm reached out, pointing towards the five attackers.
Reports had been flooding in through various means that something dark and sinister had been going on throughout Azeroth in the past day. Most were hard to believe, some were right out. A plague was spreading, infecting thousands, and the numbers growing every second. The first wave of reports had come in from Booty Bay and from there, it spread like wildfire. There had even been sightings of sickly people as far as Winterspring.
Hours after the first reports began, sightings of ‘zombies’ began to flood the lines of communication. Those infected fell ill quickly. Those who did not seek help soon fell, but arose in a new fashion. Their bodies reanimated by some force, seeking blood and gore from anything and everything around them, even their own comrades.
The Argent Dawn had moved out setting up outposts throughout the cities that would allow them in, curing the infected, spreading hope and light amongst the people of both the Horde and Alliance.
But, it almost seemed to be for naught. Further and further the news of infected people and ‘zombies’ spread. Brox had been listening quietly through the enchanted stone that each soldier of the Horde and even Alliance was given. Outposts calling for help and reinforcements before falling silent hours later. It made his stomach turn and his mind race with what could possibly be causing all of this.
The first place to check out was Booty Bay, the first reports had come from there, so what better place to start than the source?
Brox nodded to himself, “Vee, we need to head down there. Something is wrong and we need to try and see if there is any way we can help.”
The small mechanical squirrel chattered and beeped on the table that Brox was leaning upon the stone that had been spilling reports of everything sitting in the middle of the two of them.
“Well, yeah, of course it will be dangerous. But there are a lot of people who will be in danger if nothing is done, you know?”
The squirrel let out a low tone, almost growling as it scurried across the table to sit infront of Brox, tiny mechanical arms crossing over it’s chest.
“Aw, come on. What could possibly go wrong?” With a grin, Brox pushed himself up from the table, moving over to one of the lockers he had that lined the walls, reaching in to grab bits of his armor, sliding it on one at a time. He wore his mail, enchanted with Shamanistic spells and guards. Latching one piece on at a time, he readied himself, grabbing his shield, sword and Gorehowl, just incase.
“Come on Vee. We have some exploring to do…” Brox dramatically held Gorehowl in one hand, slung over his shoulder as the mechanical squirrel leapt from the table and crawled up the Orc’s body, coming to stand on his shoulder.
----
The ride upon one of the bats towards Booty Bay was rather dull. Vee described the landscape to Brox as the neared the southern lands of the Eastern Kingdoms. Fewer and fewer bodies of living people could be found, some of the shapes had seemed to move along slowly, others attacked other shapes.
The bat screeched as it near the border of Stranglethorn, turning around sharply, nearly throwing Brox and Vee from the saddle upon it’s back.
“Calm down! Just let me off here! Damn…” Brox yelled at the bat, calming it if only for a minute while tugging on the reigns. The bat dove towards the earth, quickly throwing the orc off of it’s back and darting off towards the north frantically. The two of them rolled off the road and into a tree.
Brox groaned and sat up, shaking his head, “What crawled up his ass…”
Vee climbed back up and made perch upon the top of the orc’s head as he gathered himself up, strapping the weapons tighter on his back before heading southward, through the pass that lead from Duskwood into Stranglethorn.
As Brox marched across the bridge, the sounds of the birds and animals of the jungle did not seem to exist. All he could hear was the whistle of the winds through the thick trees. This was a cause for worry, he thought as his brow furrowed deeply. He rolled his shoulders and continued down the path.
The jungle was eerily quiet. The animals that would usually jump out here and there seemed to stay hidden, where ever they were. Usually, the barbaric trolls of the area could be heard chatting amongst themselves, holding rituals or just finding some poor unsuspecting soul to slaughter for their own gain.
Nothing was heard. The usual patter of commoners, traders and warriors marching up and down the path that lead to Booty Bay was empty. The brush rustled quietly with the blow of the wind. Brox dropped one hand down by his side, pulling up one of the four totems that lined his belt. His thumb brushed over the markings as he muttered quietly to himself, reaching out to the spirits of the wind.
”North. North…..north…..”
Brox shook his head, setting the totem back where he had grabbed it, frowning. “This is not good. Even the spirits don’t seem to want to be around whatever is here. Very odd…”
Vee chattered from Brox’s shoulder as the creation looked around the area.
The walk southward continued slowly as the air seemed to grow more…well, dead. The sounds of the area had died away, all Brox could hear was his own footsteps, the whirring of the gizmos inside of Vee and his own heartbeat in his ears.
The sun had begun to slowly set in the west, the air growing cooler.
Without warning, something lunged out from the brush at the side, screeching loudly and it had very nearly made Brox drop a load in his pants. But Vee let out an alarm and Brox pulled Gorehowl from his back, wildly swinging it at whatever it was. The thick metal made contact with something soft, then a loud crunch before a thud hit the earth.
Brox breathed loudly as his heart raced, letting out a slight snort as whispered to Vee, “What the HELL was that thing?” Vee looked over the disfigured body that lay in a bleeding heap at the orc’s feet. A body, around five feet, possibly more. Wounds covered the body, slashes here and there. As for what it was, Vee could not say, but it wasn’t living now…and there was no way it could have been before. Brox dropped to one knee, leaning down to place a hand upon the body before something else caught his attention.
“Help me!” came a small voice screaming at the top of their lungs in Common. The sound of feet hitting the earth came soon after, the rush of footsteps growing louder, approaching Brox. “Oh my gosh, get them away from meeeeEEEEE!”
A gnome leap from the bushes on the other side of the pathway, letting out blood curdling shrills as he crossed the road and continued through the brush on the other side. Seconds later, five bodies emerged from the bushes, obviously chasing after the gnome. They groaned and growled and gurgled as they gave chase.
Vee instantly let out a small report for Brox, noting that they were, infact, reanimated dead beings. No life signs were visible, no pulse, nothing. But there they were, chasing a gnome. And Brox sat there, in a stunned silence as the zombies crossed the road and disappeared into the brush, just as the gnome did.
“Well…um…that was weird…” Brox continued to stand there for a few more moments, mulling this over in his head. So, zombies had risen from the dead, it would seem. Scourge. That is a simple answer. But as far as he knew, the Scourge had no sort of forces in the southern lands. Or at least nothing that was of any threat. Yet, plain as day they were here. Or at least some. But then why would the reports say that people were getting infected if it was just Scourge? It couldn’t be the reports had gotten—
His train of thought was derailed as the gnome from before had leapt and tackled the orc to the ground, more by surprise more than the gnome’s strength. “HELP ME!” he screamed in Common as he grabbed the orc by the collar, looking into his face with a look of fear. The tiny gnome trembled as he stood on the orc’s chest, attempting to shaking some sense into the green skin.
“Okay!” Brox yelled back in Common, growling. “Get off of me and I will take care of them, gnome!” Brox pushed the gnome off and quickly got to his feet. He strapped Gorehowl back over his back and grabbed his shield, holding it in his left hand as he left his right empty. He held the shield up, licking his lips as he left his right arm limp at his side, his fingers wiggling slightly as sparks of lightening jumped from his fingertips, curling around his hand and palm slowly.
The gnome stood behind the Shaman, trembling, peeking out from behind his leg towards where the zombies would be coming from. Within moments, the gnome screeched out, “Here they come!” One stubby little arm reached out, pointing towards the five attackers.