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  1. Yesterday
  2. DeeStar

    Hello there!

    Oh lord, I'm a dunce!! LOL Thanks! ❤️
  3. Mortica

    Hello there!

    There is a permanent link to the Discord at the top of the forums in the right column, where it says "Join Us". Welcome to the server
  4. DeeStar

    Hello there!

    Woah! I completely thought I answered this and I did not! Thanks again for the welcome and the discord channel, apparently I forgot to add that too. I am fired! I know I am loving the low population on Twisted Nether currently, at least for lack of lag. Little lonely though. If I may, could I grab another invite for the Discord channel so I can get myself settled in properly? ^.^
  5. Last week
  6. Viscar

    What's found in Northrend

    (( Resurrecting this story, I've missed this character!)) Whillem was warm, comfortable. He could see that the light beyond his closed eyelids was muted, and the sharp smell of bleached clean linens filled his nose. He took in a deep breath and regretted it immediately. Violently, his lungs fought against the exposure to fresh air, wracking his body. Slowly, he found an equilibrium between sucking in enough oxygen to relieve the panic but not so large to force damaged lungs to itch. He looked around his room. It seemed a standard inn room, and from the not-so-muffled sounds of life outside his window, likely in Stormwind. There was no one else around, but a fresh set of clothes and a soft white priest robe was set out for him. A letter stood propped against a mug of water, addressed to "Whillem". A brief feeling of vertigo hit him. It wasn't his name. But it was for him. He drank some of the water, calming his itchy lungs. He fiddled with the envelope, part of him not wanting to read it, and part of him desperate for an answer to a question, any question. He held the letter open, reading it over a second and third time. His treacherous brain refused to let him remember anything before he met the man who took the time to write this letter. He was grateful for the paladin's friendship, but it also left him feeling awkward. Why would this man befriend a complete stranger? Whillem felt like this wasn't something he would have done if the roles had been reversed, which only frustrated him further. Who was he? Who was the girl? A growl escaped his throat. The fluid in his lungs reacted, sending him back into his bed to keep the spasms from throwing out his weakened back. When they subsided again, he was too tired to stand again, and instead embraced the restless darkness of sleep.
  7. Moonthorn

    Ashen Wrath

    ((Thought I'd post my first short story! This was a post I made in the middle of an RP with a friend with the intent of making it into a short story! I hope everyone likes it.)) Ashes fell from the orange-tinted sky instead of Darkshore's usual rain. Even here, the heat was felt. This was a place of death. It was a place of pain and suffering. It was her birth place. It was a place of hatred. It was the place Xaesha was meant to see. She knew it to be true. Niala was filled with nothing but hate, despair, and self-loathing. She should have been able to stop this. It was her duty. Her purpose. She had failed. Now, she felt a new emotion. Anxiety and fear. She had stolen the soul of her love from the Night Warrior. She... knew the silver magic could have been nothing other than the Goddess' hand in her work. She had even spoken with one of the Temple's few remaining sisters. Sil'fer. She told Sil'fer what she had done. She'd told her of the silver magic. The woman seemed convinced it was the right path to take. She'd even offered to lend a hand; offered to send her to people that could help her with Elune's will. But those options... they took Xaesha from the one thing she was meant to see. They took her from the giant burning monument to her people's fallen. Niala knew this monument to their hatred was meant to be the torch that brought Xaesha new purpose. Sil'fer had given her a final piece of guidance in enacting the will they knew to be the Goddess'. Water from an un-desecrated moonwell. Niala had gone to retrieve a vial of water from one of the few moonwells hidden deep in the forest of Ashenvale. Deep in the south by the Felfaren river. An ancient moonwell not touched in countless years. As she finally collapsed on the dry, ash-mixed sand of the shore in full view of the grave's burning eye, she held in her possession two things. Xaesha's blackened, dark glowing soul gem and in the other hand, the vial of light-blue, brilliant moonwell water. Everything else for the ritual, she would supply. She sat there in silence for a long moment, staring up at the mass grave, silently seething in rage and despair. The kaldorei’s eyes shift now, up to the sky, taking in the faint outline of the moon. She furrows her brow slightly, having wished she was in full view of the Goddess… but she knew the Goddess could not be hindered by simple ash and smoke. The Goddess would have full view to judge her actions. Whether profane or guided by the Goddess, her judgment would come. Her eyes fall once more to the dry mix of sand and ash before her. She quietly stares at it for a moment in thought. All she felt was rage and vengeance in that moment. Her gaze turned back to the tree once more. Their story was not over. Niala pulled out the black-lit, glowing gem and held it tight in her right hand, slowly raising them as she began to chant her spell. Her hands began to glow with that same light-blue and silver light as they had when she’d taken Xaesha’s soul. Niala slowly began to pull the smaller ley lines surrounding her from their natural positions as she formed ward after ward with the sole purposes of pulling and pushing ley lines into place. Those with magical sight would see the true complexity of her work. The wards formed an incredibly complex pattern with the ley lines surrounding the body, giving the area an almost ritualistic feel. The patterns spiderwebbed out from the location just before her an impressive distance before finally reaching the edge of the spell’s manipulation, leaving the ley lines beyond in their original positions. Further wards were raised by the Kaldorei linking every single ward to the power of the ley lines. Azeroth’s life force took over the strain of the vast network of wards, freeing Niala to begin another, separate spell. The failed protector of the Kaldorei knelt just “above” the head of the body she intended to form for her love, looking toward the burning reminder of her failure. Her eyes locked with it as she began to chant, threads of unseen arcane energy flowing through the sky and pulling the still burning ash from the sky near her, funneling it toward the ritual’s location. Slowly, but surely, the ash began to pile up over the ritual site, spreading across the length of where she would form her love’s body. It did not take the form of a body, but it did take up the outline as it piled up. After a few dozen minutes, the ash had piled up more than enough to meet the mass of her love’s body. The Kaldorei turns her gaze downward, finally lowering her eyes to meet the pile of ash. She should be happy her love was returning. She should be elated to be doing this, but the only thing she felt was pain, hatred, and sorrow. Even more, she felt the judgment of the Goddess. The pale light of the moon penetrated the ash like an unstoppable gaze that upon one false action not according to her will would smite her where she knelt. This ritual was not born out of the Goddess’ mercy. It was not of her love. This was a ritual born of fury and wrath. This was a ritual of spite greater than even death itself. Niala closed her eyes for a short moment and frowned. It was a ritual of sacrifice. So, it would be. The Kaldorei slowly pulled her mail chestpiece off, revealing a bandaged form. Countless cuts and bruises covered her body, but beyond that were several of her deepest wounds. They glowed with liquid mana, the substance leaking out of the kaldorei’s very body to replace the grievous, would-be fatal wounds she had sustained. Niala’s eyes closer a little tighter from a painful discomfort as she begins to slowly peel her bandages from her torso, revealing the violet blood from her shallower injuries that coated her and the brilliant, light-blue glow of the mana that kept her alive shining out from deep wounds. One in particular, a spear wound from the night Teldrassil had burned went straight through the right half of her stomach and out the other end. A thick puncture wound that almost immediately began to flow, leaking the kaldorei’s very arcane essence from her body. Niala gently cupped her hands, a crystallized bowl of mana forming in them as she brought them closer to her injury. The Night Warrior would have a sacrifice. Niala would bleed for her profanity and bleed to prove her devotion. Greater than blood for this Kaldorei was her arcane essence. It was akin to her very soul now. This was a small price to pay to appease the fury of the Night Warrior. As the bowl filled with her arcane blood, the Kaldorei looked once more to the flames of her people’s tomb, then to the Goddess’ faint outline in the sky. The smoke still covered it. The ash still hid it from view. But her eyes saw the Goddess clear as day. Nothing could hide the Goddess’ wrath. Nothing could save Niala if she failed her Goddess. Her face went almost meek at the sight, almost causing the Kaldorei to tremble for a few moments before she forced her gaze away, back to the fire. Wrath. She could not let herself fear. Her Goddess sought to unleash wrath. She had to be the Goddess’ hand. She had to feel that which the Goddess felt. It was only once the bowl had filled that she let her gaze leave Teldrassil. It was only when her sacrifice for the ritual was made that she looked back to the pile of ash. Even with all the arcane blood she felt she needed for the ritual, she did not bandage herself again. She would bleed until this ritual was done. Her pain and loss would never be great enough to atone for her failure to protect her people. Niala gently placed the bowl at the side of Xaesha’s would-be head and slowly moved the blackened gem of her love’s soul over the bowl. She gently released the gem into the light-blue glow of the arcane blood and the gem slowly started to shift the blood toward black, resulting in a somewhat dark violet color, glowing with the same intensity. It was akin to the violet, shadowy magics the priestess’ would use under the Night Warrior’s aspect. Niala gently shifted her hands to the ash, beginning a chant. The ley lines around her lit up visibly in a vibrant light-blue, shifting a little toward silver as the Goddess’ gaze guided her magic and began to draw an intense volume of power from them. The monument to the pain of the Kaldorei before her; this pain-drenched ash was about to change. As the ley lines powered the mage’s spell. The arcane blood held in the crystallized, partially translucent bowl began to glow more intense than before with its violet light as the magic was pulled from the bowl and began to flow into the ash. Xaesha’s spirit slowly bled free of the gem, instead being bound to the arcane blood Niala was infusing into the ash. The catalyst of Niala’s arcane blood slowly shifted the ash into mana as well, bringing with it the pain of her people as it slowly took on new shape. The ashen mana glowed with a mix of silver and violet light, as Niala began to form the body. It was at this stage that the Kaldorei held the spell with her left hand, finding the vial of moonwell water she had taken from the ancient moonwell in Ashenvale. She carefully popped the cork with her right hand, letting the moonwell’s water mix with the remaining arcane blood she was supplying, the mixture slowly being drawn into the body all the same. It wasn’t until only the bowl and gem remained that she finally brushed the bowl aside and away from the ritual. She held the spell, bringing the body form in an intensely exhausting and long, drawn-out process, her eyes only having glanced once more to the searing gaze of Elune’s retribution that shone through the smoke unfazed by its very presence. After her meek glance, her eyes locked upon her people’s ever-burning grave for the remainder of the spell. After several dozen long minutes, her spell came to an end, leaving a body lying before her. Now she needed only wait for the spirit to fully bind to this new body born from not only her blood, but the blood, agony, and hatred of her people; now, she only needed to wait for this embodiment of the Goddess’ boundless wrath to awaken.
  8. RiktheRed21

    A War of Thorns and Bulls

    Kimba grunted as Isi set him down against the trunk of a tree. The sounds of battle ringed through the woods, and all around the groans of agony of the dead and dying gave the black bull some discouraging thoughts. His head throbbed painfully, and every time he reached to feel for his right-side horn, he bristled angrily to feel it shortened and jagged. “Human bastard,” he seethed. “I never saw the shots coming. I didn’t even know guns could hold more than one bullet at a time. Not ones you can carry with you, anyway.” His leg was bleeding as well, but it was his horn that truly concerned him. He’d walked off worse wounds, but never had anyone managed to take one of his horns. “I think it adds character,” Isi said as he waved a medic over. “The beach is nearly secure. Sylvanas herself made an appearance.” “Get my leg patched up, and we’ll go see her up-close.” Isi’s face twisted with a mixture of excitement and fear. Kimba couldn’t blame him. The medic, however, was less emotional about the idea of rushing Kimba’s treatment. “The bullet is buried in the flesh,” the undead said, “It will require time to remove, and it is not serious enough to warrant immediate action. I have others in critical condition. If you’re in such a rush to go to battle again, then by all means. Don’t come crying to me when your leg mortifies.” “I don’t intend to.” Isi helped Kimba limp to the beach. The dead lay half-buried in the sand underfoot as the tauren approached the mass of Horde soldiers. Catapults fired at the Alliance navy as the ships fell back, desperate to avoid their vast range. Kimba’s Braves were abuzz nearby. Once they approached, Kimba could see why. “Lyra, what are you doing out here? I told you to stay in camp.” The elf looked around at the elves, seeming strangely curious rather than upset. “They’re like me,” she said simply. “So that’s who you’re fighting.” Isi handed Kimba off to another brave and stepped to Lyra’s side. He awkwardly placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry you had to see this, Lyra. We hoped we could spare you. Come on, I’ll take you back to camp. You’ll be safe there.” Lyra cocked her head at Isi’s hand, then glanced out at looming Teldrassil. “I was going to stay at camp, but I thought I heard something call to me. I think…it was out there.” Kimba frowned at the nearby catapults. They were changing aim from the fleeing fleet. “What could they be aiming at?” He got his answer only a moment later, when the fiery boulders let fly across the expanse of water and crashed against the massive tree. Kimba blinked and stared. So that’s the way of it, he thought, Sylvanas is certainly making a statement. “An’she, no!” one of the braves shouted. It might have been Isi, but there were hundreds of voices crying out all around: night elven captives and Horde soldiers alike. Kimba sighed and told his brave to let him go. He used his spear to prop himself up, instead. I must show my strength, or they’ll start questioning. This wasn’t the first time he’d led troops after such questionable actions from superiors. “Isi,” he said. The boy didn’t seem to hear him. He was clutching Lyra as if he might fall over. The elf looked to be clutching her stomach in pain. “Isi! You need to take her back to camp. Now.” Isi didn’t ask questions, but Kimba worried he was so struck he might have misheard. He led Lyra away nonetheless. Now to keep the others in line. What a pain in the ass this is. I’m going to need a woman when this is all over, or I may well lose my wits.
  9. Syreena

    Battle at the Gallow's End

    ((Open to all members of The Grim and Twilight Empire. Reply here or ask any member for an invite to the Discord server.)) During the events of the battle at Lordaeron..... The sounds of battle were a neverending background noise. The Grim fought alongside the Horde in the ruins as the Alliance pressed them back with soldiers and machinery. They heard Baine call for the retreat, and reluctantly fell back with the rest of the Horde. Much of the Horde scattered then, and The Grim grouped up among themselves. Brill was scorched by now, decimated by the attack. But The Grim's guildhall was mostly underground. Breaking off from the main force, those in the familiar black and red tabards headed toward Brill. August 12, 2018 KatelleLast Sunday at 4:21 PM The stench of blood and death hung heavy in the air, but still the Alliance pressed on. Ragged cheers went up at Baine's call for retreat. The Empire stood with the Alliance, blue and gold tabards covered in gore but nonetheless brilliant in spirit, her forces rallied by the shouts of one of her warriors. They pressed forward with the other forces, both soldiers and adventurers alike, even as the Horde turned tail and retreated. ZakarnasLast Sunday at 4:21 PM As the Horde began to flee, Zakarnas stopped and stood still to breathe for what felt like the first time. He lowered his daggers and let his shoulders drop with his exhalation. Amber eyes scanned the ruins, analyzing comrade and foe alike. Out of the corner of his field of vision, he noticed a fairly large group routed away from the primary Horde army. Was that...? He was certain that it was. He stepped back a few feet and gently nudged Katelle with his elbow. He subtly inclined his head towards the group of The Grim. MyakaLast Sunday at 7:06 PM Myaka let out a roaring cheer as the horde began to retreat. Her draenic sword was painted in a black mixure of blood and ichor. The purple Shadowflame of the Twilight Scales glowed in the flickering soot and ashes. She raised the shield aloft for a moment and it disappeared in a flash of fire. She took the pause to catch her breath a moment. LeslieLast Sunday at 7:20 PM Leslie finds it difficult to restrain herself when the elf she's fighting turns tail to dash away at the sound of the retreat, but she does. Mya's cheer from nearby brings her out of the moment. With her broadsword still held up in guard, she moves towards the others with a careful eye on the horde falling back. QabianLast Sunday at 7:21 PM Qabian followed close behind the other Grim. He was not naturally a leader and always gravitated toward the back of the pack. In combat, he was at best a decently thoughtful contributor to controlled chaos. At worst, he was a deserter, never in terms of abandoning the fight, but with a taste for indiscriminate harm and property damage that was unlikely to be particularly helpful to anyone on any side. The longer the battle went on, the more he felt inclined to the latter, and he did not like being ordered to retreat. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Sunday at 7:31 PM Jaelantia watched the routed forces of the Horde pulling away, clutching her warhammer as adrenaline still ran through her body. She sighed, and let her muscles slowly relax as she focused her attention instead on tending to the wounded - before some new surprise could appear. UmbralheartLast Sunday at 8:03 PM The call for retreat rang out in her dense skull, the sound of the order hurt her ears worse than fingernails being pulled from her hands. Umbral has seen what happens to people slow to retreat, her days as a youth watching South Shore and Tarren Mill flop back and fourth endlessly were not for loss. Through the chaos and broken ranks Umbral sped through the mayhem, dancing over the dead and leaping off those too slow to keep up, eventually making her way back to the pack of Grim she had gotten seperated from. With her shield ready and her fel green elf eyes scanning in all directions Umbral did what she hated most, retreated.(edited) Arthelle SunstrikeLast Sunday at 8:26 PM As the cheers rang out, the Void Elf relaxed. Fire still burned at her fingertips, but it quickly faded into smoke, and then nothing. Breathing heavily, she lifted a glove up to her lips and coughed twice. "Not the best of signs," murmured Arthelle to herself before putting her back to a pillar and sliding down until she was seated while clutching her sides. "Yep. Definitely made it worse with the blight and, uh, activity." KatelleLast Sunday at 8:40 PM The Imperial General turned to her Colonel at the nudge, following his gaze. Icy eyes, just visible through the visor slit in her molded leather helm, narrowed at the sight of red and black tabards on the move. She growls a wordless oath and vanishes from sight, trusting her second to follow suit. Her voice rang out over the Imperial guildstone, then, unheard by all except those who carried their own: "Empire! Grim spotted moving away from Horde forces! I want them mowed down!" MyakaLast Sunday at 8:41 PM Myaka turns at Kate's call, seeing the Grim retreating. A wide half mad grin splits her face and she starts moving, her run turning into a blistering run of a charge as battlerage roared through her. "Understood General, I'm on my way." LeslieLast Sunday at 8:43 PM Leslie turns the instant she hears the command and follows right after Myaka as she passes. Arthelle SunstrikeLast Sunday at 8:45 PM Upon hearing Kate call for some heads, Arthelle grinned through the pain. She forced herself off her rear and onto her feet once more, only to cast a quick molten barrier around herself. Walking at a brisk pace while holding her stomach, she prepared another fire spell in her right hand. "Well, this is a rare day indeed." AwatuLast Sunday at 11:02 PM The appearance of Jaina Proudmoore had certainly shifted the favor of battle out of the Horde's hands. Why the Warchief had not issued flanking positions or improved magical defenses was beyond Awatu. But, no time for such thoughts now. Brill was utterly destroyed, and the first layer of defenses for the Halls had been broken. Immediate defense of the catacombs was necessary, regardless of the Horde's grasp on Lordaeron. If wisdom is applied to battle tactics, the troops can remain in Undercity for months while under siege. The Commander rushed across the edge of the battlefield, a cadre of Grim behind him following his orders to fall back to the Halls. He retrieved a hearthstone from a pouch and spoke into it, speaking an order to all Grim. "All Grim, both in the field and in battle, must fall back to the Halls underneath the Gallow's End Tavern. Brill is no more and defense of the Halls is of the utmost priority. All must follow this order, no exceptions." An unspoken thought goes through his mind. "Should I see any who fail to follow this order... they will be made examples of... most harshly..." IvanLast Sunday at 11:33 PM Sky Captain Ivan Starlance, shining son of the Alliance, righteous Knight of the Silver Hand, esteemed heir of General Josef Starlance, and hero, of course, rides atop his armoured warhose Justice through the fray of battle. He could barely hear Lady Larmont's call to arms over the clash of steel, but he knows the order she rallies against. The Grim, one of the most heinous blights following the orders of the Banshee Queen. He knows them well enough through reputation to judge their destruction here more than necessary. "For the Light! For the Alliance!" He lifts his warhammer to the sky so that it may be ignited with the vindicating flames of the Light and charges towards the retreating black and red tabards. August 13, 2018 AderleeLast Monday at 1:36 AM The commander’s words were clear in Aderlee’s head, … defense of the Halls is of the utmost priority. Well that wasn’t Aderlee’s priority, his was to ensure the full and complete destruction of his laboratory lest it fall in the hands of the Alliance. With the sudden appearance of the Alliance and the need to defend Undercity left Aderlee little time to arm his demolition charges. He would have liked to double and triple check his work, but there was no time. His explosives rarely malfunctioned, but he would not be satisfied unless he activated the charges manually or saw them detonate from a distance and hopefully destroy Alliance soldiers in the process. No, all Grim are needed to defend the Halls and Aderlee would follow his family and defend the Halls. The laboratory was located within eyeshot of Brill and the entrance to the Halls, if happenchance allowed he would complete his demolition. For the retreat, Aderlee ran among the rear of the pack waving his staff from side to side and occasionally hopping from one foot every few steps. His magic would reinvigorate any tired Grim and urge them to retreat with greater haste. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 10:13 AM Jaelantia silently stood, eyes scanning the crowd for the familiar tabard of the Empire. Once she'd caught a glimpse of the twin lions, she swiftly made her way in their direction. Her hooves clattered against stone as her pace quickened and her grip tightened around her warhammer. There was more to be done. SyreennaLast Monday at 11:09 AM After hearing Awatu's orders, Syreena finishes off an Alliance soldier she was engaged with, and turns to retreat to the guild hall. Her glowing yellow gaze sweeps the field near her on her way, waving at any other Grim she sees to follow her. Jinka, an orc hunter, moves with the little rogue, a red wolf running at her side. GavrilLast Monday at 12:18 PM As he hears Awatu's command for retreat, Gavril casually looks on as his felhound tears out the throat of a fallen Alliance soldier, finishing them off. The death knight Kvetoslava similarly executes a night elven archer on their knees. Both Forsaken narrow their eyes, catching Syreena running by, and similarly follow suit. Gavril was loathe to retreat, but fully understand the tactical necessity -- the Alliance had the advantage in the open field. They would be hard pressed to assault the Halls. Gavril pats his belt down to check his few remaining canisters of Blight, regrouping with the rest of the Grim. KatelleLast Monday at 2:24 PM Katelle trusted her Imperials to move without physically needing her to lead them. She stayed in the shadows, adrenaline lending a sprinting speed to her limbs that almost enabled her to keep up with Myaka's surging charge. Even still, the Grim had the advantage of distance by the time she had given the call. Would they be fast enough to catch their red-black prey? "Follow them!" Katelle commanded, voice like steel across the guildstone but unheard in physical space. "Whatever you do, don't let them disappear from view!"(edited) LeslieLast Monday at 2:36 PM Leslie needs no more prodding into chasing after the fleeing Horde as quickly as she can, so the beast charges forward after them without another word or thought. If nothing else, she will use her speed as an advantage to keep eyes on them. MyakaLast Monday at 2:45 PM Myaka also keeps up her fast pace, letting battlerage fuel her. She avoids things in the way by making large leaps over downed branches and debris. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 3:37 PM The paladin's stoic march towards the fleeing horde stopped. Instead, Jaelantia broke into a determined run, sprinting after her quarry with her hammer held low and ready for the first swing. Her plate clattered heavily with each stomp of her hooves, and she bore down in the direction of the red-and-black, advancing like a furious elekk. Her eyes, bright and golden, were fixed forward in a dutiful stare. She would not lose them. Her purpose was to crush them all. UmbralheartLast Monday at 4:01 PM Umbral took a quick look through the fog of war and made sure every Grim within view was close enough to protect should the need arise. In the spur of the moment as the crowd of Grim neared their rally point Umbral sees an alliance soldier, bleeding to death trying to keep his insides from becoming outsides and using a polearm as a cane to limp to safety, she takes a skip with one step then a hop with another landing on the limping soldier like a child jumping into a puddle sending a shower of viscera out in all directions from her impact crater. She steadies herself with the polearm stuck in the ground the soldier was trying to pull himself along with and decides to take it hoping to gain an advantage in the corridors of the guildhall if the fighting makes its way in there. As the red tide settles around her an insane laughter echoes out from under her helmet. "Fitting the Empire chooses to fight today or all days!"(edited) QabianLast Monday at 4:04 PM Qabian pauses and turns, a couple other nameless Grim knocking past his shoulder as they run. He lifts his hand, two fingers up and gestures at the husk of a ruined siege engine some distance behind them. Its already smoldering form bursts into fresh flames as he stands and raises his other arm to match it. The spellwork seems useless on first glance, then a meteor forms out of the sky, and crashes into the pile of charred and broken beams at a low angle, scattering flames and debris in a blazing river of fire across a good portion of the path they had already covered. The blood elf purses his lips, satisfied with his work, then blinks back into line with the company, keeping pace just ahead of Aderlee. If you're going to be bringing up the rear, better to know where the nearest healer is. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 4:11 PM Jaelantia's singular objective was not changed by the sudden explosion of a seige engine. From out of the flame and splintering debris, she emerged, barely losing a stride. Though the holy protection of the Light wreathed her entire form, the flames still licked at her and surrounded her body bas she passed through, making her seem briefly akin to a fireball barreling towards them. When she was finally free of the fire, her silhouette against the wall of flame was only illuminated by the intense glow of her eyes, glaring furiously from beneath her helm. MyakaLast Monday at 4:23 PM Myaka also doesn't break her stride, taking a running leap through the flames. Fire licks at her enchanted armor but the warrior seems to just ignore it as she continues towards the grim. KatelleLast Monday at 4:42 PM An otherworldly, animalistic shriek could be heard through the clamor of combat. Charging through the masses of soldiers enemy and friend alike, a skeletal warhorse--glowing with the violet energies of the Twisting Nether--broke through the raging fire as it sped ahead of the Imperials. Its rider, a cowled woman whose robes glowed smoke-like wisps of Fel and Nether alike, didn't allow her mount to charge too far ahead. She slowed just as she came in range to shout foul curses in Eredun at whichever Grim targets were near her, voice echoing like a banshee screech as her agonies and afflictions sped through the air. Would they hit? QabianLast Monday at 5:19 PM At least one of the dark streaks of violet-black the fel woman threw slammed across Qabian's right side, the force of the spell enough to send him tumbling head over heels, but running was a skill Qabian had practiced a great deal, and he rolled with the strike. With another shimmering blink across the field, he was on his feet with more people between him and the direction the spell had come from. A bubble of translucent defensive magic popped into place as well. The blood elf looked down and saw slick shadow wrapping around his elbow, crawling up and down his arm menacingly. He hissed between his teeth, and brought his hand to his pauldron, unstrapping it as he ran and letting it fall, the distraction causing him to stumble over debris. With his opposite hand at his shoulder and the sound of a couple clicks, the prosthesis disengaged and he tugged his tightly bandaged arm out of its sleeve completely. He looked around, desperation rising behind his eyes. He needed to get out of the open. AwatuLast Monday at 5:30 PM The ruins of Brill came into view, and the pile of rubble that was once the Gallow's End Tavern smoldered much like the rest of the pitiful town. Holding his shield high, a few spells struck the barrier and were deflected away by Awatu's own divine magics. A quick glance around the battlefield showed what he had feared: the Horde was being routed and no reinforcements would be able to reclaim Brill or Tirisfal Glades. Furthermore, a contingent of Alliance were following them, and more would soon come. The Alliance forces had all the time necessary to set up their siege, and it would be only a matter of time before the main entrance of the guild hall was surrounded. The second layer of wards were holding, for now, but only enough to buy time before soldiers could rush the garrison. He stood near the pile of rubble, turned, and planted himself between the entrance and any oncoming attackers. A quick spell snap, and a banner bearing the cloaked skull and twin daggers of The Grim was planted into the ground. There was no hiding it anymore. Any Alliance seeking to get close to the entrance would have to deal with over one ton of furious Tauren. Another order rang out over the hearhtstone. "Defensive posititions! Rally to me! Those who can clear the rubble, do so. We need to gain entry to the Halls." AureilyaLast Monday at 5:39 PM Aureilya's voice came over the hearthstone. "I have barricaded and secured our archives and will be sending them through a portal to a safe location. I will hold the Library for as long as I can and will self evacuate by portal. Qabian, can you arrange for an emergency portal for the rest of you should it become necessary?" QabianLast Monday at 5:55 PM Qabian slid behind a wall of stones that might have once been a building's foundation near Awatu, scattering dirt as he half-sat, half-crouched. He tried to work magic into the false arm as he tossed it onto the ground in front of him, but not having the second hand available for the gestures made it more difficult than it needed to be. The bandages slowly melted away under the effects of the shadowy spell as it dissolved whatever it touched, leaving behind a silver filigree arm-shaped empty mesh that the mage cursed at as he tried to apply fire. "What? Yes, of course! What do you think--" He shouted, then bit his tongue, cutting short his too-loud curt response to the call on the hearthstone as he turned his attention back to trying to cleanse his fake arm.(edited) DuhallenLast Monday at 6:20 PM The Elf was old, it was tall, upon first glance people would figure it to be a nightborn. He was prideful and the affliction he helped level on the lands of Lorderon were attrocious. Sure he had a body guard but as his hand extended. plants died quickly blackened by the influence and might. The alliance soldiers fell to their knees afflicted with the Blight. And when the Bainesidhe queen threw out the blight it just worsened with his very presence there. He wore the colors of the Grim. But every inch of Skin seemed to be covered with the Red and black mix. If one got close to hime they might even see that his very uniform is alive and absorbing magical shots. Hearing the retreat he repeats it to other Horde and Grim members. He knew he needed more to bring to the fore. He was one of the first to retreat, not war minded more tactitian minded. Duhallen slipped back to the choke point getting his demon to cover him. He wasn't really a runner when the Banshee scream came towards them he let out a dark chuckle, speaking in demonic he seemed to slip through the twisting nether the attack passing harmlessly as he ended up past the lines. He focused putting a shield up sliding further back from the ranks as he started to etch on the ground. A portal to bring reinforcements. Murmuring in demonic a purple blighted swirl came across the ground. The portal opened with many shark like teeth. And the tongue came out like it would swallow those that went through it. Then the tongue straightened like a set of stairs.(edited) Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 6:38 PM Making her way across the burning scar through Tirisfal Glades, the draenei finally caught a glimpse of what little remained of Brill. Surely, she thought, that was where her quarry was headed. She grit her teeth and pressed on into the ruins of the town in pursuit, embers still glowing at the edges of her tabard, the symbol of the Hand still visible through a layer of blood and ash and ichor. GavrilLast Monday at 7:50 PM Gavril glances back just in time to see Qabian hit by the Alliance warlock's afflictions, and turns to face her and the Vindicator. Snarling as only a jawless corpse can, the warlock thrusts his skeletal hands violently towards the two oncoming alliance. A violet nova of shadow energy blasts between them -- a Shadowfury meant to stun and slow their advance, giving the other Grim more time to take cover.(edited) Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 8:18 PM Jaelantia felt the brunt force of the warlock's magic strike her. In an instant, the edges of her vision began to blur and she felt every inch of her body throbbing with pain. Her every step felt like a slog through thick mud, her joints screaming at her to stop. Though slowed to an agonized walk, she refused to cease, and pushed her way through the misery of the Shadowfury. Her off-hand clenched and unclenched a few times before pushing through the same blinding pain as the rest of her to lay her palm upon her breast. With a silent prayer, the Light coursed through the draenei's body, and the affliction of the warlock's magic began to abate. After a few seconds, her attention turned towards the direction she had seen Gavril a moment earlier as her eyes returned to focus. Her grip tightening on her hammer, she finally resumed her determined charge. UmbralheartLast Monday at 8:41 PM Through the fire and the chaos Umbral sees Gavril about to unintentionally become several pieces of little Gavril's. With a well trained sprint and little thought for her own safety Umbral's shield and body fall into line obscuring Gavril from view behind its blood splattered bronze finish. She let's out a mighty roar (for an elf) determined to deflect spell, arrow, or hammer while moving backwards forcing the dedder warlock to retreat under her cover. KatelleLast Monday at 9:10 PM Both warlock and her demonic mount were caught by the full brunt of the Shadowfury alongside Jaelantia, though Ketani had not the physical fortitude to slog through it. Beneath her hood, molten-copper eyes squeezed shut against the blinding disorientation caused by so familiar a magic and spell. She clung to her otherworldly steed as her own world spun in pain, an eternity jamming through the few seconds of the nova's duration. Finally, everything righted itself. Ketani straightened, taking a breath to steady herself even as she snapped her steed forward. "Keep an eye on that warlock's portal," she called across the guildstone, eyeing the toothy maw even as she galloped past it.(edited) MyakaLast Monday at 9:11 PM Myaka sees the shadowfury and tries to move to block it, though is to slow to stop it from both Jael or the mysterious warlock. She doesn't know who the new person is, but they are fighting the grim, so they must be good. She charges to intercept Umbral knowing this will start to get her into the grim forces. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 9:17 PM Seeing Umbral's approach to intervene, and surprised by her speed, Jaelantia changed tactics. As she got in closer, her hammer ready to swing, she began to shimmer, an aura of Light shining around her whole being. The sight of it soon became dazzling and blinding, like staring into the face of the sun. The warrior charging ahead may find that the Light, though visibly bright, would not sting her eyes nearly so much as those of the elf and - should that shield fall - the warlock ahead of her.(edited) UmbralheartLast Monday at 10:10 PM Umbral seethed with anger, blinded by the radiance she staggered back a few steps, shield held with a strong grip but not ready to deflect a direct strike should it find her. After shaking her head, all she could do was hope she was still backing up while she waited for her vision to return and hope her bloody shield, polearm gripped in the middle of it's haft, and muscular elf frame was enough to block the way and buy Gavril a moment of respite if not a window to react. MyakaLast Monday at 10:22 PM Myaka finishes her charge seeing Umbral and Gavril slowed down. She moves to strike at Umbral first while she's disoriented, purple draenic sword cleaving towards her and shadowflame rolling from her shield. AderleeLast Monday at 10:27 PM As the violet-black fel slammed into Qabian, Aderlee ducked beneath another as he continued his retreat. He stutter stepped so he wouldn’t run into the back of Qabian and continued to run. Aderlee reached out with his magic to mend Qabian’s wounds, but couldn’t seem to find any. When Qabian disengaged his prosthetics, Aderlee let loose a loud cackle then spoke between breaths , “Ju learn someting new every day Q, hehe.” Aderlee was thankful for Gavril and Umbral buying them time as the Alliance soldiers converged on them rather than Aderlee and the rear troops. As Aderlee caught up to and passed Umbral and Gavril, he paused to yank a metal fetish off of his robe and throw it at the incoming Alliance with his free hand. He tried to throw it at Myaka as she was charging first, but his aim was off and the fetish sailed over her head as she closed the gap. The fragmentation grenade disguised as a fetish exploded a moment after hitting the ground, sending sharp metallic fragmentation in every direction. Aderlee hoped the grenade would cause the incoming soldiers to pause rather than risk running into another explosion, then turned and continued his retreat towards Awatu. Vindicator JaelantiaLast Monday at 10:35 PM Jaelantia stopped her advance short as the suspicious object bounced off the ground, then braced herself as it exploded. She exhaled sharply through her teeth as bits of shrapnel pelted her armor, some burying themselves deep enough to cause pain. She didn't wait for the pain to subside, hoping the effect of the sunburst of her aura of Light would give her enough time to close in even after the explosion. Dust and smoke still in the air, she lunged forward, swinging her hammer in a wide arc with both arms - hoping the elf was still where she'd been a moment ago. UmbralheartLast Monday at 11:42 PM Umbral's vision comes back into focus as the sharp slice of Myaka's purple draenic sword glances off her shield and finds flesh on her bicep. She lets out a howl in response to the pain that focuses her senses as her rage peaks ever higher. Rather than deflect with her shield, Umbral attempts to deliver the slab of gore covered metal straight to the face of the charging paladin in an effort to deliver a humiliating blow what would leave the crusader covered in someone elses blood and hopefully slow her dance of death to a mere two step of torture. Opting for offensive humiliation comes not without consequence as the hammer of the crusader strikes Umbral in one of the few places on her body not clad in armor, somehow Umbral has managed to take a large hammer blow to the buttock as she positioned to crash into the paladin coming at her... Syreena could NOT find out about this though the bruise would likely stick around for months... if Umbral survived at all. DuhallenLast Monday at 11:43 PM *The portal was up Duhalken felt the protection of the elf he blocked to portal so the alliance would not blast the reinforcements coming. The red river elf then started chanting and lifting his hands purple black ooze came forth with a feel akin to the scourge. * GavrilLast Monday at 11:51 PM Unfortunately, Umbral is neither large nor well-dressed enough to shield the warlock from the paladin's blast of Light. Gavril collapses to one knee, the Light rendering him temporarily blind, searing his undead flesh and sending white-hot pain throughout his body. He extends a free claw towards the Alliance as they engage Umbral, wildly sending curses of Agony and Corruption, praying to the Dark Lady that -- between his spells and Aderlee's grenade -- Umbral is able to hold off the two of them. August 14, 2018 QabianYesterday at 12:09 AM Qabian tossed Aderlee a smirk. The blood elf managed to get his magic working enough to burn away the shadows surrounding the false arm, leaving the silver filigree glowing molten. He burned away the rest of the empty sleeve as well. There just wasn't any time to try and put everything back together. Apparently undeterred by the red hot metal where he grabbed the arm, he snapped the limb back onto the corresponding silver cap on his now bared stump of a shoulder, and there was a flash of white-purple light as trails of floating runes surrounded the arm then dissipated. The metal arm shape was empty at its center, a twisting band of arcane white light through its core apparently what drove its function. He flexed his hands, one still gloved, the other one clearly artificial but moving as though it were entirely natural. He clapped them together once, then hopped over the wall to take a place behind Awatu, alongside the banner, playing defense as ordered. MyakaYesterday at 12:11 AM Myaka snarled lowly, and moved to block umbrals strike with her shield before stabbing her blade towards the other warrior. Vindicator JaelantiaYesterday at 12:16 AM Jaelantia barely escapes taking Umbral's shield to the face as her hammer strike brings her in range. She shoots Myaka a grateful look from beneath the visor of her helm once she recovers after the follow-through of her swing, and is suddenly wrought with an incredible agony. Her flesh begins to blister and steam as the Curse of Agony takes hold, and her gaze snaps to Gavril. She extends a gauntlet covered palm to the warlock as her flesh sizzles and her teeth grind. "I have come to destroy you," she says plainly, before forcing the Light to flow through her agonized fingertips,. She struggled against the pain as she loosed a shocking burst of holy magic, seeking to sear the kneeling undead.(edited) PincusYesterday at 12:17 AM The portal undulates and contorts oddly, seemingly unwilling to let whatever coming through pass. Out from the inky black hole steps a rather large Forsaken, nearly 6 feet tall, and besides him his large felhound. He is dressed in purple, skulls on his shoulders, and face hidden in the cowl with nothing but red eyes peering out. The figure points in the general direction of the melee, and the fel runs off to do his master's bidding. The figure eyes the battlefield, and let's out a sharp whistle. The felhunter runs back to his side. The Forsaken raises his hand, clenches a fist, and flings it downward in a sharp motion. A meteoric rock hurls forth from the Nether, and blossoms into a giant Infernal in the middle of the scrum. GavrilYesterday at 12:46 AM The bolt of Light strikes Gavril square in the chest, sending him sprawling on his back, heavy silken and velvet robes crumpled around him, steam rising from a gaping hole in his chest as a spectral howl escapes his throat. Then, the Infernal falls. Somewhat regaining his composure, the Forsaken retorts in stilted Common, "You must needs destroy that one, first." And then to Umbral, "Warbringer! To the Commander!" Using the ensuing chaos to his advantage, Gavril forces himself to his feet, claw to the wound in his chest, scrambling back towards Awatu and the cover of the ruins of Brill. Le'saraYesterday at 12:51 AM A blast of fire shoots through Duhallen's portal, and out steps Le'sara Sunspear, wreathed in a shroud of flame. "Time to burn some wretched Alliance mongrel bastards!" UmbralheartYesterday at 1:04 AM Umbral impacts her shield with Myaka's and recoils with a cackling twisted glee as the human shield sends Umbral back a step. Umbral takes another strong stomp and her sabaton slams into the ground with enough impact to make those around take note as well as kick up more blood shed from the fallen victims near by hoping to at least create enough horror and outrage to buy enough time for Gavril to escape unmolested by the light. As her foot meets the viscera covered mud and blood flies into the air, her shield falls into place in front of her and with unwavering strength and renewed resilience she quickly regains her balance and back pedals towards Awatu almost as fast as Gavril can run forward. In the months since Umbral pledged herself to the Mandate, she's become strong with the Grim at her back, and resilient standing behind the Grim. DuhallenYesterday at 2:16 AM *The chanting stopped from behind away. A cold wind came forth as the warlock reached a bit too much. He used to not need to breath. He clutched his chest as he summoned the scourge magics no longer infused with relish kings power in full. The cold wind of the north swept across the battlefield and a sickness settled into the blighted soil. The dead that lay on the battlefield start to come alive. They look like they have no light to their eyes and only hunger for flesh. The more alive the better. Duhallen wheezed for breath as life and death conflicted in him. Distracted for long moments after the spell was complete. *(edited) SyreennaYesterday at 10:03 AM Syreenna appears from the shadows at Awatu’s side, surveying the oncoming Alliance and those ho were already engaged in battle with Grim. She recognized a few, and she recognized their tabard. “Twilight Empire. Old friends of mine,” she says to Awatu with a wicked grin. Drawing her swords, she heads into the skirmish, fading into the shadows once more. MyakaYesterday at 10:10 AM Myaka is used to those slamming foot stomps, she does something similar to off foot people as well on occasion. The viscera kicked into the air doesn't seem to unnerve her, neither does the raised bodies. Instead, fury and rage grows, the flames on the shield whip into a frenzy that she sends towards Umbral in a plume of shadowflame. Followed soon after is quick sword stabs and strikes. AderleeYesterday at 12:09 PM Finally reaching Awatu, Aderlee took a moment to catch his breath while muttering “Ah’m gettin’ too old fa’ lotsa runnin’ like dat.” He turned and saw Gavril was clutching his chest, so Aderlee planted his staff in the ground and reached out with the shadows to mend his wounds. Aderlee disliked healing forsaken, their dead bodies left him no way to heal with his preferred method. As each forsaken may have died differently, Aderlee could never be sure if an arm was gone permanently, or maybe that hole was always in that chest. He wasn’t as proficient with the shadows compared to blood magic either. A shadow then swirled around Aderlee’s fingertips as he willed Gavril’s chest wound to heal as much as he could. Finished with that, he watched the infernal crash to the ground in the center of the battle. Dis buys me a moment. Aderlee reached into his front pouch and pulled out a bulb-shaped glass containing a dark blue fluid with bright purple swirls mixing about. He pulled the stopper out with his teeth and downed the entire glass in one gulp. Aderlee’s eyes screwed shut and his expression was filled with disgust, then his entire body shook lightly and his eyes opened to reveal dark and dilated pupils. The glass fell from his hand and shattered in the rubble while Aderlee clapped his hands together once and loudly. An unseen and unfelt wind seemed to sweep over Aderlee and buffeted about his robes while all the trinkets, rings and bells on his robes jingled together not unlike when a strong gust would jingle a wind chime but the sound was much uglier and out of tune. Doped and ready for battle again, Aderlee wrenched his staff from the ground and stood ready. LeslieYesterday at 12:50 PM Leslie stops just short of the impact of the infernal, making a dash to the side and sliding through the ruined ground on all fours. The worgen glances around swiftly to note where everyone is in relation to the great amalgamation, but she doesn’t need long to see that the burning construct running amok on the battlefield could only end in ruin for the Imperials. The runes on her sword flare just before she pulls it from her back and chucks it at the creature like a javelin. As she fortifies herself with runed magic flaring and her greatsword in hand, she attempts to command its attention onto herself with the hope of distracting it until it can be brought down. If nothing else, she will try to keep it engaged to buy the Alliance more time. UmbralheartYesterday at 5:30 PM Umbral's shieldwork was impeccable in this moment, Myaka pressed the attack only to be futilely swatted away by a series of precise and practiced motions from her massive slab of a shield. As she backed away from her attackers, dancing over the dead and dodging the souls of the damned joining the fray she can't help but smile more with every futile blow swatted away. Every thud from every blow deflected by her shield serving only as accompaniment music for her chorus line of cackling. After a few more moments spent backing up and suffering through whatever fresh hell Myaka's flaming shield could produce Umbral yelled out in orcish "If Gavril is safe then get my bruised ass out of here!" Le'saraYesterday at 6:45 PM Le'sara saw Umbral under assault and was quick. She blinked forward, getting up close to the Alliance attacker. She grinned at Myaka and gave a very venemous "Hello, swine." Which she followed up by placing her hand in front of Myaka's face and attempting to blast it with fire. Vindicator JaelantiaYesterday at 6:47 PM "This demon stands between them and retribution!" Jaelantia bellowed over the din of the fighting. Her skin had finally stopped its itching and burning and was now down to a dull ache thanks to her own Light healing -- and now she was prepared for another engagement. She glowered up at the Infernal, the flickering felflame illuminating the bloodied Hand emblem upon her chest. "Remove it!" She lunged forward, dust and debris kicking up from her hooves. Carrying that momentium into attack, she put her weight into a swing to strike the great fel construct, Light shimmering around the head of the great hammer.(edited) MyakaYesterday at 6:51 PM Myaka just snarls back at Le'sara and raises her dragonscale shield. The purple scales pulse with twilight energies and any magical or fel attack would be hard pressed to get past it's heavy resistance. Shadowflame roars from it's center, looking to pay the mage back with flames of it's own. DuhallenYesterday at 7:04 PM Duhallen ducked behind the large Tauren. he pulled up his mask a bit to get air. He almost felt his life force ripped from him. His eyes narrowing he slipped his helmet back on Pulling from the nether from health stones he infused one in his form. Standing behind Awatu looking at the field. He slid up his staff at it seemed to writhe with the infernal magics.. Etching a marking in the air then slamming the Staff on the ground a casing of a portal appeared near Umbral and near where she could jump up to be by Awatu. The portal would be a deathtrap to anyone but Grim. KatelleYesterday at 7:05 PM Ketani reared her mount up before colliding with the Infernal. Her first instinct was to attempt to enslave or even banish the construct, but seeing Jaelentia in the throng of holy wrath changed her mind. Instead, she lifted her hands away from the reigns and began chanting in eredun. Gloved hands glowed with felfire as she attempted to wrest control of the flames binding the Internal together. PincusYesterday at 7:24 PM The Forsaken watched the wrath his creation had brought. "Less of a force and more of a diversion", he thought. With a quick wave of his hands and a whisper of Gutterspeak, he begins to spread his version of pestilence and agony to the Alliance below. Then, with a quick snap of his fingers, his felsteed appears from the Nether, and he makes a quick getaway to the rearward position. Vindicator JaelantiaYesterday at 7:42 PM Feeling the prickling of her skin signalling the beginning of another slew of curses, Jaelantia quickly withdrew a few steps from the Infernal to utter a very brief prayer and cleanse herself with the Light. She sighed with relief as she began to purge the ailment from her body. Before returning to the fight, she glanced over at Ketani and Myaka to see if they were similarly afflicted.(edited) UmbralheartYesterday at 7:51 PM Umbral hops back through Duhallen's portal having little faith the Grim Warlock was acting in her best interest but was pleasantly surprised to be by Awatu and suddenly safe for now. She hoped Gavril and Le'sara had the common sense to retreat to safety as well before being overwhelmed by a gold and blue tide that was over taking Tirisfal. After having taken just long enough to gain her bearings she takes up a defensive posture near Awatu, swatting away the occasional mindless undead as she stays vigilant.(edited) AwatuYesterday at 8:44 PM The Alliance continued their pursuit, and Awatu was backed into a corner. The rubble itself had been cleared enough for individuals to enter the guild hall, but it still left an opening for Alliance to eventually make their way inside. As Awatu deflected arrows and spells with his shield, he looked up towards the hills in the direction of Undercity. There, siege engines could be seen, slowly making their way back to Brill. Along with with several contingents of soldiers. A relatively small group of Grim would not be able to hold off a direct assault from a military force being spearheaded by the Twilight Empire. It was only a matter of time before they were overrun. The order had gone out to fall back to the guild hall. Awatu kept his shield high and deflected as much as he could, granting cover to anyone seeking entrance. He raised a hoof into the air and stomped the earth. Fiery light emanated from the ground, creating a hazard for any approaching melee combatants. The terrain would hold, but not for long. GavrilYesterday at 9:39 PM Shadows mend the gaping hole in Gavril's chest, from Aderlee's spell, and the warlock is visibly relieved and reinvigorated, though his flesh still shows the worse for wear. He nods a quick thanks to the priest as he reaches the entrance to the guild hall, and the relative safety of Brill's ruins. Standing near the bulwark of Awatu and Umbral, instead of immediately heading through the entrance, he turns to face the oncoming Alliance, fixating his vengeful gaze on the Vindicator. Tracing symbols in the air and chanting in Eredun, he thrusts his palm forward and launches a Seed wreathed in green and black Corruption, heading straight towards the paladin. Vindicator JaelantiaYesterday at 11:04 PM Jaelantia's eyes turned upwards towards the Infernal - and beyond it, to the oncoming spell. As it travelled quickly through the air, the paladin was illuminated in a shimmer of blue. This was the third affliction volleyed her way since arriving, now, and she was growing quite ready for them. As the Light's protective blessing surrounded her, she began shimmering as she had earlier when she was protected with a divine shield. Now, though the Corruption could find a home in the holy vessel of the paladin's body, she would at least be able to endure for a little longer without a surprise knife in the side to go with her agony. Staring down the incoming spell, she drew back one arm, and then thrust it forward in a furious pitching motion. As her fingers cut through the air, the Light began to collect between her fingertips, finally manifesting into the shape of a stone hammer. It flew forth at the end of her throw, and she observed its course - straight into the warlock's direction - as she followed through.(edited) August 15, 2018 MyakaToday at 8:45 AM Myaka would keep pushing forward towards the bulk of the Grim, the warrior being hit by the agony and affliction curses but her pain resistance keeping her upright and moving, albeit a bit slower than before. Her singular purpose is on the Tauren who seems to be the leader, and she seems to be attempting to get to him. PincusToday at 8:50 AM Pincus made it back behind the defensive line, leaping over the line. The felsteed disappeared in midair, and the Forsaken fell rather unelegantly to the ground. Getting himself up and dusting himself off, a familiar voice piped up. "Hey boss, it's all on fire, yo. Doc Rock is also smashing up your joint. Richard is keepin' an eye on the payload,you waiting for your word. Whadda need me to do?" "Shut up and go away," Pincus replied. "This is now a job for Krathoon." The Forsaken begins to muttered, sending Pizloz back to the nether. As his summoning completes, a felguard stands where the imp was moments before. Pincus turns to the demon, points to the battlefield, and says "Hit one of them. Hard. Until either they are dead or you are." DuhallenToday at 10:19 AM Duhallen was told to retreat again.. He looked back inside and to the battlefield.. Oh fearless commander what the hell is in that bull brain of yours? Good thing he couldn't read expressions in the clothing he wore. He focused on Myaka, the curses already on her, he decided to drain her very soul. Casting his hand out as he retreated he focused.. Pulling her very essence from her if he could simply to slow her advance more and perhaps weaken her enough before she would get to the Tauren. MyakaToday at 11:27 AM There is a tug as the drain soul connects, but it would seem like there is no soul to take, almost as if another warlock beat Duhallen to draining it. The small tug doesn't distract the warrior much at all from her path. KatelleToday at 11:42 AM Grin and bear it was Ketani's motto as she fought to keep control of the felfire surrounding the Infernal through the pain of nether afflictions. Growls and gasps marked her pain until it passed, but by that point she had torn the Infernal down to its sum parts. With eyes focused on the group of Grim gathered at a decimated building, Ketani used her magic to hurl the pile of demonic rubble towards the Grim. It flamed anew with her own chaotic fel energies, the felfire and Infernal boulders hurtling through the air with the speed and ferocity of an angry, blood-seeking warlock. MyakaToday at 11:54 AM Myaka disengaged back from the grim as the rubble flies towards them, watching to see if anyone has an opening for an attack Vindicator JaelantiaToday at 12:15 PM While her muscles throbbed with pain, Jaelantia spent what focus she could to extend a hand towards Ketani. She hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly, but after a moment the Light sprung forth from her fingers, a vibrant beam of golden light briefly enveloping the warlock. The curse she had been afflicted with would sting a bit less, and wounds would cease to burn as the Light restored some of her strength. KatelleToday at 12:17 PM Ketani took a brief moment to regain her bearings once she sent the flaming rubble towards the Grim, and Jaelentia's efforts sped the process along. Breathing a little easier, she spared the draenei a nod. Vindicator JaelantiaToday at 12:21 PM Jaelantia watched to see that she was well, but did not return the gesture. Choosing instead to face the fore, she began to stride forth through the rubble of the Infernal. Ahead, there was a felguard - and a group of Horde warlocks who were surely responsible for its blasphemous existence. GavrilToday at 1:17 PM As the hammer flies towards Gavril, end over end, shadows coalesce into a barrier around him. The hammer slams into the surface of the barrier, shattering into a hundred fragments of Light, spraying outwards and dissipating into the air. The warlock whips around, escaping into the guild hall to no doubt prepare for the siege to come. AderleeToday at 2:57 PM While Ketani sent the pile of demonic rubble speeding toward the Grim position, Aderlee shook his staff up and down wildly while chanting in ancient Zandalari. Empowered from drinking his brew, Aderlee’s voice deepened in octave and had the odd sound of multiple trolls chanting as one. The witch doctor’s chanting, combined with the bells and trinkets jingling wildly was displeasing to the ear at best and more likely grating like nails on a chalkboard. Aderlee could do nothing to stop the rubble, and if he could there were far too many pieces to stop anyways. Hopefully another Grim soldier would be able to stop the larger pieces that made up the torso and limbs of the infernal. The effect of Aderlee’s chanting would momentarily toughen the Grim’s exposed skin like steel during the impact. It would do nothing to lessen the pain of being hit, but the rubble would deflect as if impacting well forged plate armor. Aderlee grimaced as he was pelted by dozens of smaller pieces, then shouted in pain as a rock the size of a watermelon hit him square in the chest, knocking him on his back. With the air knocked out of him Aderlee gasped and tenderly felt his chest, wincing as he felt multiple broken ribs. Before rising to his feet, Aderlee wiggles his fingers about and willed his body to knit back together his bruised and broken bones. KatelleToday at 3:16 PM Katelle stuck to the shadows this entire time, wary of the overlarge Tauren and his command of the Light. Now that his consecrated ground had faded, however, she set her eyes on the downed troll. This one was personal: she recognized him as the troll that translated her wedding vows! Katelle spoke across the guildstone as she stepped through the shadows, exiting them just behind Adderlee. She crouched down just far enough to reach one hand on either side of his throat, keeping wary of his tusks in the moment, and pull a garrote wire taut around his neck.(edited) MyakaToday at 3:19 PM Myaka also charges towards Adderlee, but she doesn't move to attack the troll, instead she plants herself between Kate and the Grim, expecting someone to try to aid the troll. She wants to make sure no one can't help him. UmbralheartToday at 3:46 PM Umbral leaps into position between Aderlee and Myaka, planting herself between the priest and the Empire, her arrival and speed carrying enough weight and presence to stun all in front of her as she hip chucks the priest towards the entrance of the guild hall. Umbrals cackling from underneath her helmet ringing out as her shield plants itself as an annoyingly ever present obstacle. KatelleToday at 3:48 PM Having already stepped through the shadows behind Aderlee and made a grab for him, Katelle gets hip-chucked towards the entrance of the Grim guild hall as well. Whee! Vindicator JaelantiaToday at 3:56 PM While the chunks of Infernal flew through the air, the paladin's relentless rush brought her nearer still to the warlocks and their freshly summoned felguard. She stopped short, the loud clanging of her greaves ceasing just as they had grown their loudest. Her right fist held her warhammer steady as she drew herself back on one leg for an instant. One of her armor covered hooves raised into the air, hovering momentarily over the dead and trampled soil below. With a guttural shout, she stomped back down again, and the impact seemed to crack the very earth beneath her. Shafts of brilliant golden Light swiftly spread in all directions around her, the paladin standing as the epicenter of a sanctified circle. The consecrated ground shuddered with the very force of the holy Light, the divine magic searing any foes caught standing in it.(edited) MyakaToday at 4:00 PM Myaka is stunned, managing to stay upright but she does stumble and take a moment to regain her bearings and balanace. She snarls at Umbral knocks Kate and Adderlee away. She is invigorated by the consecrated circle, though it is noticibly dimmer around her. KatelleToday at 4:03 PM From this close up, Ketani could feel them. Wards--wards around what she presumed was the Grim guild hall, what with the banner flying their grotesque colors. She didn't have the time to pay attention to them just now, though, instead opting to coil her nether energies around her and release them in a terrifying screech that echoed with the voices of a thousand tormented souls. Hopefully, someone would flee in terror as she had made so many do before. PincusToday at 4:05 PM The Forsaken looks at the lump on the ground from the well timed rush. A brief breeze - cutting through the grass, moving it ever so slightly - rushes over the human. The voice of the Eredar carried by the wind. "Die. I am the eater of souls. I am the destroyer of worlds. You will not survive. You will be my slave for time eternal." QabianToday at 4:20 PM From some place that was heavily shielded by Awatu's large form, solid shield, and freakish sun powers, Qabian contributed what he could, mostly by avoiding the direct clashes others were finding themselves in, sending discouraging fire toward any stragglers or scouts trying to find flanking positions. He managed to counter at least one large chunk of infernal with a last second pyroblast over Awatu's shoulder that probably singed a little. But the order to fall back to the hall itself had already gone out, and with his fist of silver wire and white light drawn close in front of his face, the air around the blood elf shimmered for a moment, then he vanished entirely. PincusToday at 4:24 PM Pincus eyes the field - and thinks that the elf is getting a little too far out for comfort. Reaching in his bag, he pulls out a small device and hurls it in the direction of Umbralheart. The mechanical squirrel runs off to fetch something for his master. KatelleToday at 4:29 PM Before the fear takes hold, the masked rogue barks a laugh at Pincus and wraps herself around the back of Aderlee's body, locking her legs at the ankles and locking her garrote wire into place around the troll's neck. Her embrace might even be considered intimate if it weren't for the wire and the way her laughter dies into a terrified scream once the Forsaken's spell fully washes over her. Locked into place as she is, her flailing to try and get away get away oh dear Light get away from here just does more damage to Aderlee and his windpipe (and anything else he wants damaged. She's got knives everywhere). (( Tagging for @Aderlee's return to RP so he can see what is happening to his character! )) MyakaToday at 4:43 PM The scream distracts Myaka, cutting through the rage induced haze, seeing that Kate isn't attacked she assumes it's either a priest or warlock spell. Even though she knows this, the attack against her friend and General causes her rage to grow, she starts swinging her blade at Umbral in rapid controlled strikes and stabs. She follows up on the strike with a massive plume of shadowflame roaring from the center, hoping the strikes knocked Umbral off focus enough for the life drain and debilitating cold of the flame to get past the other warriors defense. UmbralheartToday at 4:52 PM Umbral's cackling grows quiet as the fear sets out over the battlefield, Myaka's strikes give her pause as she works to deflect and buffet them against her shield, but there is little in her toolbox to defend against the fire seeping from Myaka's shield. Sometimes a simple tool is the best tool, sometimes a blunt hammer is the best tool for the job. Umbral lifts her polearm high and drives the flat of the blade down towards Myaka's head with enough force to stun even the most battle hardened warrior even if the blow is deflected. PincusToday at 4:54 PM As Pincus eyes the chaos he's unleashed, he ponders if it is time for some more. "He needs to be kept on his toes..." Pincus whistles and ponts at Umbralheart's grappling foe. Krathoon stops, and charges full speed at the combatant, axe back and at the ready.(edited) MyakaToday at 6:25 PM Myaka moved and blocked the polearm with her own blade, locking the two in a standstill. She was already moving to use the locked blade as a way to hopefully pull the polearm free from Umbral's grip but the felguard stops her plan. She has to move her shield to block the axe though she tries to at least keep Umbral's blade locked in a stalemate. UmbralheartToday at 6:31 PM Umbral begins cackling again as the felguard intervenes, she pulls back from Myaka and follows Katelle and Aderlee into the obscure guild hall entrance. Vindicator JaelantiaToday at 7:49 PM From above the felguard's head came the sudden blow of a hammer - materialized from seemingly nothing, the Light formed the shape of a weapon to strike the new combatant and stun it where it stood. Jaelantia would soon be upon the felguard, eyes full of fury. MyakaToday at 7:58 PM Myaka nods at Jael before turning and moving after Umbral, she didn't want to leave Kate to be attacked since she'd be focused on the healer.
  10. Syreena

    A Rogue's Diary

    08.03.18 People are liars, or maybe they’re just fools. They claim to understand what The Grim is, what we do, and what our purpose is. Then, when they witness it in action, they are shocked and disappointed. It is clear to me now why members of The Grim have so few outside friendships. Outsiders sometimes say they want to be friends with us. They say they understand us, and still want to be friends. But they don’t. Not really. They want to be friends with who they want us to be, not with who we really are. They want us to change, to fit into their idea of right and wrong, good and bad. They offer, in their kindness, their support and help if we choose to “improve” ourselves into what they think we should be. To fel with that. I am Grim. I will not change. If people get upset because they see me attack humans, that is their problem. They obviously do not know what it is to be Grim, even though they claim to understand. I make no apology for my actions. I have no regrets. And I will not change. Peace through annihilation. By any means necessary.
  11. Qabian

    Time Shattered

    War for peace. War for peace. War for peace. And no one sees the irony. No one. I love it. Hit them while they're bleeding. Yes, we're bleeding, too, and risk everything in making the strike, but... But if we win this now, we can force acceptance and servility for centuries. Really? How has that worked out historically? If you insist. If there's one thing I'm never going to argue with, it's scorched earth. Scorch it all. Especially Lordaeron. The Windrunners have had their claws in human scalps their entire lives. Sylvanas was only too happy to find herself gifted with the power to hold human lives in her hands and have them worship her for it. Nathanos isn't just any corpse. I hope she regrets what she's done. I hope it saddens her to see her people, her human people removed from the home they bought with the blood of their families. That pit was disgusting before they turned it into a literal sewer, and it's disgusting now. Leaving it unusable for generations is all it has ever deserved. I hear the rumors trying to pin Malfurion's escape on Saurfang. Maybe so. That might explain his little failed death wish drama. To return their hero to them is a crime that cannot go unpunished. But was Sylvanas not there? Shouldn't she have seen it done? While everyone else bemoans the lack of honor in murdering hundreds maybe thousands of civilians, I'll be over here wondering why they failed to cut the head off the snake. Keep leaving nothing but ash and blight in your wake, Warchief. I certainly don't care how many innocents on either side you take with you in the name of some sort of necessity or survival. This is the annihilation we've been preaching for more than a decade. This is what we live for.
  12. Earlier
  13. Kimiji

    A Druid's Regrets

    [[I can't figure out how to edit or delete this one. Can Someone help me out?]]
  14. Kimiji

    A Druid's Regrets

    The druid of the claw coughs blood up onto my gloves. Her purple skin fades to a dull blue, much closer to mine than any of her race. As I look up and around the fields of Lordaeron I see them...us...dying everywhere. I am Kenjin. A Zandali Troll. A part of the Horde. A member of Sanctuary. That means a lot to me. More importantly, I am a Druid. I have sworn to help who I can and heal any who need it. My true loyalty is to life and nature. I will keep any I can alive. I’ve spent years working with Druids of every race to ensure there is balance in the world. As I hold the night elf, dying, in my arms, I try to figure out how we let it get this far. I feel as if we, the druids, have failed. There has always been a common bond between us, no matter our race or faction. We serve nature. When the “Warchief” struck down Malfurion I was torn. I was furious. He was a symbol of Druidry, not just alliance Druidry, but for all of us. The elf coughs, sputters, and dies in my arms. My healing arts can’t overcome the massive blood loss. I say a blessing as I lay her down to rest on the field of battle, searching for someone I can save. There is a small troll boy, maybe sixteen, but he looks much younger. I run over and begin healing him, hoping I can do something in the face of this stupidity. I look down at his face. ~~~~~~~ The night elf girl looks up at me, confused and hurt. I helped her shift out of her bearform, but that may not have been a good idea. The weapons stuck in her hide that were an inconvenience as a bear are debilitating as an elf. As she looks up at me, I begin a rejuvenation on her. The pain on her face eases and she lets her head relax to the side. That is a mistake. She sees the tree. I’ve been avoiding looking at it. I can’t stand the shame. The feeling of failure. The betrayal of everything I’ve ever stood for. The little elf sees it and collapses. Her wails rip my heart apart. I can’t meet her eyes, right up until the moment her cries die out, and her body goes slack. ~~~~~~~ I lower the troll to the ground, lift my mask and brush the tears off my face. There are more dead or injured here than I could help in a lifetime. That doesn’t mean I should stop. I drop my bear mask back in place and run to the next downed person. A dwarf this time. I start again. ~~~~~~~ I’ve saved a few, most have died. I’m exhausted. I can’t stop now, there are too many that still need help. The fields of Lordaeron are covered with the dead and wounded of both sides. At this point I’m reluctant to consider myself a part of the Horde. As I bend over a human, trying to return her to life, I think back to the druids I have gotten to know since the legion war began. We had, if not peace, then at least a solid understanding between druids of all races. Under Malfurion’s eye we had a community that worked for the betterment of the world. The girl coughs and her eyes open. There is at least one more saved. The gates of Undercity open and a team of Forsaken emerge. They have green, glowing tanks on their backs. I pick up the human girl, looking for someone to hand her off to before I find out what the Forsaken are here to do. As I’m walking toward a group of dwarves I begin to cough. A green fog floats around me. My head goes light and I wonder how we ended up on the ground. My last thought is of a burning tree.
  15. Kenjin

    A Druid's Regrets

    The druid of the claw coughs blood up onto my gloves. Her purple skin fades to a dull blue, much closer to mine than any of her race. As I look up and around the fields of Lordaeron I see them...us...dying everywhere. I am Kenjin. A Zandali Troll. A part of the Horde. A member of Sanctuary. That means a lot to me. More importantly, I am a Druid. I have sworn to help who I can and heal any who need it. My true loyalty is to life and nature. I will keep any I can alive. I’ve spent years working with Druids of every race to ensure there is balance in the world. As I hold the night elf, dying, in my arms, I try to figure out how we let it get this far. I feel as if we, the druids, have failed. There has always been a common bond between us, no matter our race or faction. We serve nature. When the “Warchief” struck down Malfurion I was torn. I was furious. He was a symbol of Druidry, not just alliance Druidry, but for all of us. The elf coughs, sputters, and dies in my arms. My healing arts can’t overcome the massive blood loss. I say a blessing as I lay her down to rest on the field of battle, searching for someone I can save. There is a small troll boy, maybe sixteen, but he looks much younger. I run over and begin healing him, hoping I can do something in the face of this stupidity. I look down at his face. ~~~~~~~ The night elf girl looks up at me, confused and hurt. I helped her shift out of her bearform, but that may not have been a good idea. The weapons stuck in her hide that were an inconvenience as a bear are debilitating as an elf. As she looks up at me, I begin a rejuvenation on her. The pain on her face eases and she lets her head relax to the side. That is a mistake. She sees the tree. I’ve been avoiding looking at it. I can’t stand the shame. The feeling of failure. The betrayal of everything I’ve ever stood for. The little elf sees it and collapses. Her wails rip my heart apart. I can’t meet her eyes, right up until the moment her cries die out, and her body goes slack. ~~~~~~~ I lower the troll to the ground, lift my mask and brush the tears off my face. There are more dead or injured here than I could help in a lifetime. That doesn’t mean I should stop. I drop my bear mask back in place and run to the next downed person. A dwarf this time. I start again. ~~~~~~~ I’ve saved a few, most have died. I’m exhausted. I can’t stop now, there are too many that still need help. The fields of Lordaeron are covered with the dead and wounded of both sides. At this point I’m reluctant to consider myself a part of the Horde. As I bend over a human, trying to return her to life, I think back to the druids I have gotten to know since the legion war began. We had, if not peace, then at least a solid understanding between druids of all races. Under Malfurion’s eye we had a community that worked for the betterment of the world. The girl coughs and her eyes open. There is at least one more saved. The gates of Undercity open and a team of Forsaken emerge. They have green, glowing tanks on their backs. I pick up the human girl, looking for someone to hand her off to before I find out what the Forsaken are here to do. As I’m walking toward a group of dwarves I begin to cough. A green fog floats around me. My head goes light and I wonder how we ended up on the ground. My last thought is of a burning tree.
  16. Bronwen

    The Blade and The Cat

    The next victim, or would-be victim, is a woman carrying a bag on each arm, walking from Brill on a road going towards one of farms. When she falls to the ground after getting hit by a more solid person from out of nowhere, neither of the satchels make any harsh noise like clanking metal or ores, or acidic alchemical bottles breaking and hissing as their foul concoctions eat through the cloth holding them. It is a muted and hollow sound, nothing close to even a thud, and even less substantial than the frail undead woman frozen in fear with a blade poking into her neck. She wears a dress that looked like it was once white, a threadbare shawl, and nothing more past sandals on her feet. Probably young when she was living, and a civilian obviously, as she has no weapons on her. Nothing that she might have effectively held in a fight. Bronwen could sense no magic on her, nothing aside from the foul plague animating the poor lady, and she this far made no attempt to protect herself in any form whatsoever. She just stared up at this strange human woman crouched over her with wide eyes, much like anyone else that feared for their life might. For the longest time, the two stood still, nearly still as death as they watched one another. “What are you doing?” Bronwen asked finally. Harshly, but slowly, so the woman could understand her more easily if she was going to understand at all. The Forsaken woman only moves her eyes to look towards one of the fallen bags. With the blade steady and a knee braced against her shoulder to keep her in place, Bron lifts the bag with the other hand and empties its contents onto the ground. Bread, all sorts of different types, topples in loaves and rolls mostly. The human frowns and quickly reaches for the other to do the same, and out of that one tumbles bundles of morels, button mushrooms, and various other fungi. In her own frustration, she looks at the poor woman like she has the audacity to lie about such a thing. “You people don’t have to eat!” she says in a growl. “I... it’s... we still... like.... it's nice to eat,” is her choking reply, in a quiver that would suggest she’d be sobbing if she still had the capacity to make tears fall from her eyes. For what feels like another eternity to each of them, Bronwen stares at her. Entirely apprehensive, but less at the woman's tale and more at the revelation that… undead people eat? because they like to? And bake, it seems? She can't just let herself believe something like that out of nowhere, but now she finds herself stuck in doubt. As if there wasn't already enough in her life for her to doubt. Normally, she'd end her and be done with it, but now there is something even louder telling her to just stop. It draws her stomach into a painful knot that she ignores best as she can. “Do not tell anyone you saw me,“ she says, and suddenly picks the poor woman up by her collar to force her to her feet. “Tell them hounds chased you for your bread. I'm going to let let you live. But if you figuratively breathe a single word, I will find you. Do you understand?” The woman's mouth moves but no sound comes out. Bronwen sighs in annoyance, and after finally drawing the blade away from her throat, she shoves her into the town's direction. That is enough to make her bolt away for her life, thankfully silently and without as much as a glance back over her shoulder. She crouches down and breaks apart the loaves, which are all indeed entirely bread. If it wasn't for her realizing she was still standing in plain sight more or less, she'd have let herself stare at it a while longer. She sheathes her dagger, pulls her cloak a little more tightly around herself, and backs off into the tree line.
  17. Vilmah

    The Ruin of Ruins

    "Warchief.. why?" The voice was frail, and then it was gone. Vilmah stood on the ramparts looking down, following the voices toward the sound of chaos and calamity that erupted outside of the city walls. Down in the field, spreading among the already yellow grass and weeds, a green gas was billowing toward the Alliance. In its wake, bodies were falling. It can't be, Vilmah thought to herself, watching the large bodies hit the ground, horns and antlers of the tauren digging into the dirt. The orcs stumbled a few feet, and fell on their faces. The trolls pinned themselves with their tusks. The goblins fell so quickly, like flies almost, and the elves in all their bravery reached for the sky for a few final words she could not hear. But those orcs were loud, and even as they died they asked; "Warchief, why?" Until the breath left them and the plague continued to cover their corpses, which grew thin and frail as flesh appeared to melt from their bones. Vilmah watched in horror as soldiers of the Horde stumbled, died, and fell apart. The yellowish bones of their corpses lay like stones among the armor and weapons. There wasn't even any blood, really. Just the swift decay of muscle and organs, falling to the earth in graying clumps that disappeared into the dirt. How did she even witness such a thing? She heard the call to arms. Ridan spoke to her through the hearthstone, hours before. "Undercity is under attack!" With Nika and Einar, the three snuck into Undercity disguised as Forsaken. It was chaotic inside, and the Alliance's SI:7 assassins had already stolen into the deepest parts of Lordaeron's crypts. Their mission was simple; rescue Steinburg as Infection rallied to defend their city. Nika and Einar proved a capable duo, and led the Warboss down toward Infection's guildhall. They were briefly intercepted by a priest, though Vilmah's shouting managed to stave off whatever mind control she was capable of. Then he arrived. The High Warlord of Infection. Vilmah had known Keraph since she was old enough to enlist. He saw most orcs as filthy creatures unfit to live on his world and treated Vilmah with only the barest of respect. Back then, they drank together. Traded insults. She called him 'old man', and never considered that someday they might be on sides so opposed that they would actually face one another in battle. Yet here he was, approaching her with a massive axe that seemed almost too big for his bony hands. Nika and Einar were already on their way to getting Steinburg released. "I'll hold him off!" Vilmah had told them. "Don't wait for me!" Nika wanted to argue, but gave Vilmah some smoke bombs instead. It was all she could do when Vilmah was that serious and wanted no argument, but Keraph wasn't going to be distracted by a few smoke bombs. Sanctuary was breaking into his home and retrieving one of his "guests", and that would not stand. "Bloodborne!" He shouted, snarling with yellow decaying teeth. "You traitorous green mongrel!! Have you truly abandoned the Horde so thoroughly as to betray the Warchief while we are under attack!?" "I'm not betraying anyone, Keraph," Vilmah argued, her sword drawn. It was long and thin, nothing compared to Keraph's axe but fluid in Vilmah's slender hands. "I'm just picking up a friend. You can get in my way or you can let me take him home, but I don't think you want to be dealing with me while the Alliance attacks from the outside." The rage in Keraph's face was readable, even from behind his helmet. The Warlord's mouth twisted into a deep frown, the wrinkles and flaking skin of decay contorting with rage. "If you do this there will be no peace for you, or Sanctuary! Do you hear me, Vilmah?" He shouted, using her name now. What did that mean? "You and your little group are going to pay. You will suffer. These are not empty threats, little girl." Her eyes narrowed. The last time someone called her little girls was... "I'm not letting you bully me and my men, Keraph!" The orcess shouted, moving into an offensive stance. Left arm forward, right arm back; Vilmah's thin blade was poised to slash and her knees bent, ready to spring. She and Keraph were both warriors, but their disciplines were different, and hers was fairly new. How long has she been training like that? He thought, raising his axe. "The Alliance has marched forward! their siege weapons are attacking the gates!!" Shouted a voice nearby. Both Keraph and Vilmah's attention were stolen. The Warboss felt a buzzing in her pocket, heard the familiar voice of Nika from afar. We have Steinburg, Warboss! We're going home! Mission complete, Vilmah thought, but Keraph still glared at her. A decision was being made. "Watch yourself, Vilmah," he said finally, through rotting teeth. "The end of your days grows near. You, Sanctuary, and all you hold dear. The Dark Lady will not accept failure, and I will not accept this--" "The boy king has arrived!!" Keraph pursed his crusted lips and pointed the axe at Vilmah. "Soon." And then he was gone. Vilmah stood in position, waiting. Part of her wondered if this was some sort of trick, but that wasn't possible. Keraph's home was being attacked from the outside, surely he wanted nothing more than to cut through the Alliance more than defend his honor against Vilmah. Then again, what honor does he have? She watched him go and ran in another direction, through the sewers, sheathing her blade on the way. The splashing of putrid liquid at her boots was something that no longer reviled her, nor did the smell. She followed the sewers to a secret entrance, one that brought back so many memories. The Alliance attacked from there, once. Led by an ally. A shaman. Outside of the crypts, the Undercity was much louder. The cries of battle were loud and told the tale of a battle still raging. She wanted to help her allies, but from where? Scrambling to the broken bricks and stones of Lordaeron's past, Vilmah climbed up as high as her hands and feet would allow her. Once she climbed high enough to see what was happening outside, Vilmah crouched down and looked for an opportunity to join the Horde in the defense of their city. To join her brothers and sisters as they defended their home. What she saw was poisoned orcs, trolls, tauren and elves. Goblins, too. As she leaned forward to understand, they all fell like sacks of meat, flesh falling from their bones to hit the ground like liquid. "Warchief.. why?" Vilmah hesitated. If she joined them, she too would die. Heart pounding in her chest, she reached for her blade and heard a voice telling her to stop. Be safe, and try to stay out of trouble ha'rega. Clenching her teeth, she made a pained sound and let the sword slide back into it's sheath as a dark presence made itself known. Near the wall, she watched as Sylvanas, their own Warchief, cast what looked like some strange spell. Vilmah was too distracted by Sylvanas to notice that beneath her, bones were stirring. A chattering sound, like the tiny tapping of seashells rattling caught her attention only when it grew so loud that it mimicked a strange music. Turning toward the unsettling noise, her hazel eyes widened in horror at the sight unfolding before her. The soldiers she saw fall in battle were standing. Gone was their flesh, and any semblance of life. They were skeletal, gnarled and twisted, and walked forward with a singular purpose. ..has she killed them just to raise them? Did she become everything she hated about the Lich King? Battle waged below, and Vilmah knew she couldn't stay. She would either enter the fray with the blight at her feet, or escape. Neither seemed both intelligent and honorable. Which to choose? Be safe... "Oh... fine," the orcess muttered, looking into the courtyard. Clenching her jaw, she climbed back down the ramparts and made her way into what looked like a gathering of Horde soldiers. Some of them gave her a curious look, but that look was forgotten when a nearby explosion drew their attention. "They're inside!!" Vilmah shouted, finally drawing her blade. The Alliance was flooding in from the outside. She caught sight of some strange faces in the fray, but was thrown from her concentration as a human soldier caught her attention. He attacked her with a massive broadsword, and while she could defend herself, Vilmah wondered just how much she actually wanted to defeat him. After everything they had done, after watching the war machines torch Teldrassil, why was she fighting for Sylvanas' broken kingdom? Because it was still the Horde. Because Steinburg worked so hard to make it a home, and was nearly killed for it. Because years ago, she came to Undercity as a child, and was welcomed as a friend. Without considering these things outright, Vilmah fought. She was accompanied by other Horde military, but there went enough to hold them all off. She went blow to blow with the human before her, an overhead swing meeting an underhand thrust, steel against steel, honorable combat between two living beings. She swung her blade forward and bit into armor, then flesh. It was a well placed blow and pierced the surface, ripping through muscle to open the human's throat. There was no time to consider this though, and soon enough she was engaged in combat with another human. Then another. Then another. Vilmah was small, but she was experienced. The foot soldiers didn't know what to make of the blademaster in her skant armor, and made the mistake of aiming for her bare torso. Surely it would be easy to slay her by piercing the orcess' stomach, chest, neck. Anything. But they never came close enough. She was fast, and she was willing to accept an injury in exchange for a kill. A few cuts to her shoulder or side were nothing compared to the way her sword slid into someone's lungs. Blood flowed, the smell intoxicating and almost enough to overpower the stench of rot. After an exhausting fight, Vilmah stood among a pile of bodies covered in cuts, her mind cloudy with blood loss. Then she heard the horn. Behind the human she was fighting, a morningstar struck his skull. The human went down in a heap and Vilmah looked into the eyes of her assistance, a Forsaken woman in plate armor. One quick salute and she was gone. Vilmah looked toward the horn and saw that the Horde was retreating. Baine waved his massive arms, calling the remaining Horde soldiers to follow. Without questioning why, Vilmah followed the call to a goblin airship, praying that there were more on the way. But there were no more ships. Huddled among the Horde soldiers gathered by Baine, Vilmah watched as below them, the Undercity became engulfed in green smoke. She knew what that smoke would do to anyone nearby; orc, tauren, goblin, elf, it didn't matter. They all died, and without Sylvanas to raise them, they all remained dead. Still breathing heavily, her wounds began to sting. The adrenaline was fading and the reality of what happened slowly crept into her thoughts. She killed them.. she killed them and raised them, and for what? Undercity is gone.. Undercity is gone.
  18. Bronwen

    The Blade and The Cat

    Many hours later on the way north towards Brill, Bronwen slowly moves toward the city proper first to peer at the entrance once again. A few guards are there, of course, but still a couple more than she would have expected to have riled up just yet. She frowns and collapses her spyglass between her hands. Of course, she still wants to go inside anyway despite her orders, and it wouldn’t be the first time that she defied that specific instruction in a situation much like this. She's fortunately wise enough to know the difference between merely wanting to go cause problems for the enemy and instinct telling her to diverge from the plan, and this time she again chooses to not be so careless. West of Brill, just far enough away that the town itself is obscured by the gloom in the air, she encounters a watch post. It's one she doesn’t remember having seen on this spot before with three guards: one forsaken standing beyond the perimeter and staring north, one sitting on a log and poking at the campfire with a stick, and an orc of all people that appears to be sleeping. By the noise he’s making it sounds as if he's sleeping, too. The rogue curls a lip in mild disgust and adjusts her cowl before she grabs a handful of the sandy dirt she gathered a few days prior. It gets moistened by some of the little bit of water she has left, because she knows very well that plain dirt or sand or powder of any kind has little hold over decaying skin and dry eyes. The orc is dispatched as he sleeps with a precise dagger to the throat, since he would have been the more difficult fight by far. The man by the fire gets a face full of sticky mud as he turns and draws his weapons, but instead of backing off like others might until they get their bearings again he swings his swords at her, just as she expects. Bronwen dodges them and barely twists out of the way of a crossbow bolt in time for its point to cut across her forearm. Predicting the armsman’s next move, the human spins around to give a rude gesture towards the bowman, and her form fades into wispy shadows to get cut through, and then blown away over the campfire by the breeze as the other stumbles about in his assault on the air around him. The bowman lowers his bow the smallest bit as he glances around, just in time for a foot shoved squarely into his back to knock him into one of the blindly flailing blades wielded by the other. A sword shoved through the chest of an undead man doesn’t kill him. It might not even really hurt, for all Bronwen knows, but it’s been enough to cause some chaos for the moment. She leaves them to escape into the shadows and moves on her way. They would have seen her heading south if they were paying attention. After she is sure she has entirely escaped their perception, Bronwen circles north again until she can at worst see the faintest outline of northern border guards in the distance from a dead and hollowed out tree she chooses to rest in. For some time, she watches and listens without much in way of idle thought like before until she finally decides to stitch and bandage herself after she uses her runestone to quickly report what she’s seen and done. She’s hardly gotten her armor refixed over her arm when she hears a quiet and muffled noise, just outside of the trunk. Not one to take chances, her daggers are drawn before she even rises to her feet in preparation for a confrontation, but the golden eyes that meet hers through the darkness aren’t lich fire. A night elf, one she definitely recognizes after a second or few and scowls at to express the frustration she can’t quite speak aloud right now. “The hell are you doing here?” she demands of him at a barely audible level. She’s prepared to tell him off as quietly as she can, tell him to go find his own work, but she instead pauses when he leans down to slide his arms around her under her own and pull her into a tight embrace. Once she realizes what’s happening, she rolls her eyes. “You did not... just come all this way just to-” “Don’t go into the city,” he murmurs into her ear. “... okay? I wasn’t going to, they told me not-" “Good. Do not go into the city,” he says with more feeling. What feeling exactly she couldn't quite put her finger on. He releases her, a stony yet mournful look on his face. She’s about to question him, her face growing red with her frustration at this whole thing, but like kaldorei often do he disappears into the dead forest without a trace. For a short while, all she can do is stand there in the darkness and wonder what just happened.
  19. Svetlaena

    On the Ashen Beach

    This… isn’t supposed to happen. It was hard for Svetlaena Ascent to even think for a moment before more coughing racked her body and sent shockwaves through her mind. The Sin’dorei lurched forward and caught herself on her hands and knees amongst sands rapidly being blanketed in ash. Her head was pounding, her eyes stinging and tearing over. Despite the efforts of her lungs to cleanse themselves, all she managed to do was hack some gray slime onto the beach. Not like this. Nearby, the priestess’s hippogryph Ipolit collapsed, breathing but utterly spent, twitching his singed wings every now and then. She watched him for a time to assure herself. Once confirmed, she set about trying to rise to her feet. Easier considered than done. Svetlaena’s head was spinning far too much. It wasn’t just the pain and suffocation, either. She settled for simply kneeling there, falling ash sticking in her frayed hair, and staring back at the horrible beacon of war that the Horde had lit. Not like this… Within this burning ruin of the world tree a dark splotch of smoke amassed into the form of a storm crow as it propelled towards the Sin’dorei woman like a meteor, falling mere feet from her where she knelt. Sand, ash and cinder alike spilled in the area around them as the scent of smoke threatened to overwhelm her once more. As the disturbed debris once more began to settle, a silhouette of a druid stood where the crow had fallen. Standing about a head shorter than the average Kal’dorei female, the figure stood ready for martial combat; one hand held a shard of something, the other balled in a fist illuminated with a blue light. A familiar, wrathful tone of gravel greeted her after a hacking cough. “...I should have guessed... I should have known. Of all people to be spearheading this… atrocity…” ‘Atrocity’ was right. She wanted to tell Vaedoras that, but of all the people on Azeroth, he was probably the least likely to believe her. He had seen her blazing hatred for his people first-hand; an inner fire born of past betrayals and lingering resentment, he himself had been burned by it more than once. She wanted to say that she would have at least taken prisoners. She wanted to tell the druid how she’d tried to save as many as she could until the heat burnt the very air out of her lungs and forced her back for good. She wanted to say so very much, but all Svetlaena managed was more painful coughing fits, shaking her head and hoping the despair in her face and the burns on her skin said enough. “Five years.” The druid growled, gripping on the shard that pulsed with brilliant shades of red as if feeding its owner’s rage. It cut into his skin, blood dropping into the ash-ridden sand. “For five years, I’ve known you a Monster. But She begged me to spare you. She said you could be saved.” Vaedoras began the first step of his march. “And I did, for Her. But what has it cost us? I should have done this a long time ago…” “No. Syl...Sylvanas…” Svetlaena stammered out, trying to explain despite her scorched throat, beginning to realize just how vulnerable she was and just how enraged Vaedoras was. If only She were here. An attempt was made to stand. It failed. She fell back into a sit, reduced to trying to scramble backwards. The head-shaking became more frantic. “I didn’t… I-I wouldn’t… she’s…” And the strain was too much, the small priestess breaking into more coughing spasms, only broken up by the occasional ‘no’. “You wouldn’t?” The rough, incredulous voice raised in indignation at the perceived lie. “I wouldn’t!” Svetlaena spat back, finally with some conviction behind her voice, sounding nearly as rough as the druid in her current state. He would normally have found this absurd, perhaps even laughed at her, but any sense of humor seemed burned with the tree and those within. He continued his grim march towards justice. “You’ve always been an opportunist, I assume those burns are from trying to steal more victims for your wretched sins. Too long have I stood idle, too many have suffered at your hands because of it. I have neglected my burdens from Elune for too long, may I remain forever damned for it.” At this rate, he’d be upon her in moments and she had precious little strength left. The backwards flailing ceased. She raised a hand, realizing he was closing the gap far too fast and trying in vain to halt him. “I know what I’ve done,” her voice cracked, “I know what I am.” Eyes that burned struggled to focus on his to convey her honesty. “It isn’t this!” “Is that so?” Short as he may be in comparison of his own people, he still towered over the priestess. Behind him his trail was marked by his own blood, that which stained the crystalline shard that he pointed at her. “This is your last chance to confess, Svetlaena Ascent. May Elune hear you and judge you accordingly.” Cornered, guilt-ridden and at the peak of frustration, she slammed her fist into the sand beside her, “She won’t hear me. Nor will she hear you, nor did she hear them--” she gestured to the tree. “I saved as many as I could. She did nothing.” “Then I will serve in her place.” His natural fangs remained bared, the shard still poised to strike as a makeshift blade to deliver some supposed divine justice. “You expect me to believe you actually sought to save my people? After all your past crimes?” Svetlaena’s defiance seemed to lose its fire; she lowered her head, and slowly shook it to answer him in the negative. “Of course not. Not after all we’ve been through together.” Her tone suggested that she was almost amused by the question. Almost. It fell just short, too deflated and defeated to really embrace the irony as she typically did. “All I could think of was when my own city fell.” She just stared at the ground now, watching the ash accumulate. At least this way she could avoid the terror of that final moment if, or when, it came… and rob him of the satisfaction of seeing it in her eyes. “A fate that you’ve now brought upon us.” The Druid’s fist surrendered its illumination, only to grab the woman’s chin and force her to look back up at him. “You and your abomination of a leader. She was one of yours in life, was she not?” Svetlaena raised one of her weary, singed hands to grab at his wrist, but little else. She simply hadn’t the strength to pry him away or even tear out of his grasp. “She is no kindred of mine. Merely a shadow of it.” There seemed to be some hesitation to these words, but once they were said, it was replaced by the tiniest shred of relief. “And yet you still march to her commands.” Vaedoras hissed as he kneeled, getting closer to her face. “You’ve made this mistake before, with the brown orc. He destroyed a city, like your ‘Shadow’. He renewed conflicts that benefited none but his own ego-- as this one does, this wicked Windrunner and her designs. How do I know you truly regret it this time? What will you do to prove you have learned from your past, Svetlaena? Why should I believe that you can still meet salvation? Tell me, why are you worth sparing again?” His increased proximity seemed to be fanning the faded inner flame of defiance, for she ceased to avoid his gaze once more, “What makes you think you have this right? We once agreed that we two are monsters, didn’t we?” Narrowing her stinging eyes, she continued, “This is beyond us both. You’ve no right to be talking like a paladin… nor do I have any defense for myself.” “Because, I have the only thing Monsters like us seem to respect.” The Druid waved the now crimson shard where her gaze lingered before applying pressure on her entire jaw. “Might. You are right that we are both monsters forged in elven flesh-- cast from Elune’s graces for our sins. If she has truly turned a blind eye on us all this eve, then it is my time to do my proper duty as an apex predator and feed upon those like us. For the rest of my nights, I will seek out and hunt those who will prey upon the weak and innocent, as is my destiny-- endowed upon me at the hour of my birth when I claimed my first victim.” His voice was deathly calm, seething as the shard began its approach. His amber eyes never leaving his prey as he made her position painfully clear. “And yet, in my neglect of these burdens, I have caused far more suffering than if I had my fill. I see this now, Svetlaena… tonight's the night I accept my dark purpose as one of Elune’s Damned. Tonight I, Vaedoras Starshade, realize my true nature as an Apex Predator. And so I ask one final time, why should your final judgement not mark the start of this new era? Are you certain you have nothing more to say in repentance?” The entire speech was so long-winded and bizarre that it assisted the priestess’s disorientation; it all eventually becoming a blur of his anger and a strange awareness of the silence that now hung in the air, outside of the sphere of Vaedoras’s crazed declarations. Previously one could hear the echoes across the water, cries of the doomed and dying… now there was nothing. The flames on Teldrassil didn’t roar quite as high now. The fire was finally running out of life to consume. All this talk of predator and prey. She’d said similar things to Vaedoras, once, at a time when he had been at her mercy rather than the other way around. But this was amplified. Demented, even. Or, perhaps, she had always sounded just as mad as he. Svetlaena wasn’t sure anymore. “Do what you feel you have to,” she spoke with some strain from his grip on her, “if someone had tried to talk sense into me after Silvermoon fell, I wouldn’t listen either. I don’t blame you.” A deep breath. “But as someone who knows what I am, and what I am capable of, all I ask is that you answer me one question.” The shard lingered within her peripherals, his harsh gaze seemingly unblinking. “...I will grant you this request. Speak.” Her gaze is unwavering, despite the tightness in her throat. “Would I have allowed so many children to die that way?” There was a silence between them, the shard close to her neck, ready to bleed her out at any given moment-- assuming the searing heat that seemed to radiate from it didn’t cauterize her wound. “Fair enough.” The improvised weapon retreated. “Pray that you are telling the truth, and if not… that I never learn of your deception. You are granted one final chance from the Damned of Elune that stands before you. My mercy is spent, this is my final favor to Her and you both. Use it wisely, for my wrath will not be spared a second time if I hear you so much as touch another one of mine inappropriately.” He released the woman, pushing her back into the sand as he stood. “Have I made myself clear?” The wind knocked out of her, it took Svetlaena a moment to reply with a weak, “...yes.” Physically and emotionally spent, the Sin’dorei made no effort to move from where she lay, watching the ashes that continued to drift down from above. So many things she thought to say, but none of them would help at this point, and she knew it. With a sigh she settled on, simply, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” “And yet we bask in the fruits of the pale’s efforts.” Starshade scoffed as he turned his back on the woman that lay in ash and sand. He retreaded his dread march, as if it were the only path that remained for him. “Tell Windrunner and those who follow to enjoy her little empire of ashes, we will not forget this day. These flames will spread to all your Horde holds dear, and from this divine retribution, the Kaldorei will once again flourish. This is nature’s way.” When his foot finally touched where his march had begun, his form shifted back into the stormcrow, grasping that foreboding shard as he flew towards the east beyond the mountains to leave her to her thoughts.
  20. Nikaa

    The House

    This was an incredible RP experience, and resulted in some pretty big changes and character development for Shaelie. For one, she got the opportunity to apologize to Myaka and Ketani of Twilight Empire for wronging them in the past. It gave her a chance to make amends and form new friendships with people- including members of the Alliance, that she might not have ever gotten to meet before. She also was able to officially reclaim her original name and identity of Nika Davies, which was very important to her.
  21. Moonthorn

    The House

    ((<3 Thanks for having me. Going to miss it, but really going to love having the free time back. WHEW. Longest RP I've ever done.))
  22. Razz

    The House

    SIXTY DAYS later..... The House event is finally over. Some highlights from the show: A band of murloc pirates who took over the pirate ship playhouse in the back yard, followed by fish fillet sandwiches the next day. A kraken with frikkin' lasers. Peachicks Shower stabbing Women in bikinis Piranha pond Outcasts Interviews The audience Mind-wiping Fights and Romance The WHEEL OF MisFORTUNE! The coffin, truth serum, fish broth, lava floors, itching powder Spa Day Bun huggers for buns and hot dogs Lunk, Lonk, Lank, Ponk, Cronk, Wonk, and Bob WOMP WOMP Fireworks exploding the house after the final awards ceremony, mysteriously at the same time other fires started elsewhere in the house and throughout the grounds The challenges: What's In the Box guessing game won by Nokh and Bor'ghul Drunken Obstacle Course won by team of Nokh, Megeda, Bor'ghul, T'suro Talent Show won by Shaelie for individual and team of Nokh, Megeda, Bor'ghul, T'suro Pool Chicken Fights - several won points for this one Trivia Contest won by Myaka Riddles won by Ketani Foam Sword Balloon Popping won by Soren Cooking Contest won by Myaka The big winner of the trophy and 100,000 gold is...... Ketani Addison of Twilight Empire! The Bilgewater Cartel Entertainment Division would like to thank the other contestants as well: Draquesha and Soren Bearcharger Nokh Deadeye and Mythiis Myaka Winterborne Kirsune Aedious and Mardalius Anterius Niala Moonthorn Aruku Hitowa Hayleigh Davenport, Tynalie and Shaelie Brightwing Megeda Dustrunner Sanjay Aaren Anastasis Bor'ghul Flamespeaker T'suro Sunspear Murue Azurehammer Asteray Yu'una Syreena Shadowblade And now, we leave you with this final thought...... NUH! ((Thank you to everyone who participated! ❤️ ))
  23. supermoop

    LUNK RITE WORDS

    LUNK RITE MOAR WORDS hai hi, me iS stIlL Lunkkk, wriTe stOry bout scarY day! :O haHa :O looK likE LoNk facE! 2dayYyYyy ScAry. FeW days b4r, sCar LadY brinG frned, n he bIg n mean. anyWay, 1day 2day end of miss Razzy contest. PRETTY LADY WIN! lunK very happppy. Affer she Win, HOUSE CATCH FIARRRR! :OOOO luNk watch shoWs in room wid friends crOnk n PonK. n boB n Lonk2 buttt dey naht frinds. dey sUck. So, we watchIn show, LunkkKk look like tis: \o/ he hav good time. Den, get HAWT. BoB tell turn air, buT no AiR, AirrR hot! B4r no, rooM on fiahr in Mid of Ahll miiii gren chilrend! N lunk Lock in firarr room! bOoB haZ good ida, Hee spiLl dranK oN fiarrhs! N CrOonk spits on fiaarhrs! smmMart cRoNk..s Luank try same. Den! PRETTY LADY COME SAVE LUNK! Door opn, pretti ladi derE wid nothAr pretY lady! TwO pretTy Ladies! :O Dey Yallink at moOks n wE run out RooM n dey SavEe liFE!!!! BesTtest ladIes evarh! baD stuf happeN miSs RazzY housE brrrn 2 groun, but MisS RaZzY sayyfe! n moOks sayyfe! we go Poooorrt? Purt? Pert now! NEwww hOomE 4 Lunk Lunk! luv lunk ❤️ The text is written in the same shambled up journal as before, the mook having had it stuffed in his pants as he left the burning building. The edges of the paper is charred, as the mook attempted to fan the flames away. There is a wrinkles where some stray saliva got on the paper. It is written in the same messy text, but it is full of love. Lunk loves his job and loves the people he works with. Especially Miss Razz ❤️. He won't forget his time at the house with all the pretty ladies and silly men! Or, that's what he thinks!
  24. Novadragon

    Smoke Dreams

    “…can sneak up and be in place to support the injured falling…back. Sir?” Blinking once Sol shook his head and glanced around with a somewhat confused look. This had already happened hadn’t it? “Sir are you alright?” Apparently not. Rubbing his face roughly the paladin turned to the man who was talking. One of his assistants, what were they talking about? “Fine, sorry simply tired. Go over that once more?” The man gave him a concerned look but turned back to the notes on the table between them “I was saying that if we fall out now and shift our position we can be in place when the inevitable wounded start arriving.” Nodding the paladin stood and waved a hand “See to it then.” The priest saluted and slipped out of the tent leaving Sol to stare at the canvas wall with a frown. He wasn’t left to his thoughts long as a scratch at the flap announced the arrival of his squire. “Dalithen. Anything to report?” “Nothing of interest. Horde is stalled so we’ve been tending to the scrapes that get filtered back to us.” Sinking down on his cot Dal shot Sol a look”This is gonna be bad isn’t it dad?” Sinking onto his own Sol just gave his son a tight lipped smile in return “We knew it was going to be with that right turn.” ——————- “Commander! We’re under attack, left flank!” Letting out an oath Sol kicked his horse into a gallop “On it. Get the injured and priests to the center!” As his men scrambled to follow his orders the paladin lunged off of his charger letting it dissipate back into the light and took a quick look around. Kaldorei? Here? No, this was wrong. The faces were wrong, he was wrong. Giving his head another shake Sol shook out his flail then took a defensive stance. If need be he would defend those they were protecting with his life but he really really hoped it would come to that. “Stand ready, here they come!” The night elven charge was strange to behold, the normally graceful movements were broken and disjointed as if they themselves had too many joints. It was only when they got closer that Sol realized this was because to a man the force was made of walking corpses. Inhaling sharply the paladin moved to consecrate the ground under his feet only to scream in pain as the light itself turned against him. Undeterred by the show of light the night elven corpses marched through the Sin'dorei forces knocking aside any they cam in contact with till they stood surrounding Sol. Twisting in place the paladin gave them a pained look “What are you doing? Why are you doing this? We are not part of the slaughter!” If the corpses cared for his words they did not show it. As one the group closed in reaching out to drag the paladin down into darkness. ——————- Sitting up with a gasp Sol let out a groan as his arm and ribs protested the movement. Looking around groggily he did his best to figure out where he was before finally sinking back down. He was at the hospital with Dustin. There had been no night elves, no ambush aside from the one Dustin’s mercenaries had set and most importantly no light turning against him. Pushing the sweat soaked hair back from his eyes Sol stared up at the ceiling. Strange dreams indeed.
  25. Bronwen

    The Blade and The Cat

    Nothing happens as she sits and watches until even the smoke from the burnt-out torch no longer rises. Nothing happens quickly, at least, and Bronwen has a lot of ground to cover so she ultimately decides that she shouldn’t be wasting time on this. She had expected maybe someone coming quickly when a regular patrol was delayed, but they don’t come before she begins to get impatient. Perhaps Command was more than correct in assuming much of the bulk of their excess soldiers were on Kalimdor and there was less than imagined to spare on something so mundane on forest patrol. That thought made her uneasy, and in accepting that it might be a great while before someone was to appear and check on the dead, she moves on. This time she plans on going to back west and towards the northern wall of Brill, but not until after she sets up a lure. Eventually, late night into early morning, two guards do march down the road with their best attempts at scowls on their faces to search for a stalker that may or may not have taken a break on his route for who knows what reason tonight. Neither of them carry torches themselves, just so they wouldn't ruin their chance to be able to sneak up on the lazy or distracted guard. The one with daggers at his sides watches the road, while the one holding a bow in her hand peers through the trees. Even if she’s *not* watching the road, she spies the corpse laying in the middle of the way and stops the man beside her by swinging her bow in front of him. He's annoyed at first, until he looks ahead and realizes what she sees. His hand moves to his daggers, and her bow is flicked up to smack him in the jaw before being nocked. The woman turns her head to tell the man to dash to town and alert the guards there of their findings, but when she turns her head she can see a small fire smoldering within the trees in perfect view of the road. Her words stop short as her eyes narrow, and instead she signals to her fellow. It’s punctuated with a smack to the back of the head, but that is the only sound that’s made between here and creeping upon the small burning pile. No one is there, neither are there footsteps leading to or away from it. No evidence of anyone being around is here, aside from the very deliberate creation of the tiniest bonfire. The woman peers through the woods through hiding, even if she’s sure the two are safe, makes a breathless snorting sound upon seeing another small blaze ahead. “What?” “Another one.” She points out towards the west. “Signals.” “Are you sure?” “Do you want to keep your head?” He doesn’t answer. She’s about to continue when she sees yet another two flare up in the distance, many meters apart, like they were each just lit. The archer grabs onto the stalker’s head and turns it so he can see them too. “Let’s go rally the boys and stomp out some pests,” she says, and tugs on the collar of his armor to quickly drag him back towards town.
  26. Murue

    [H] Hunting the Harlequin

    The Death Knight James Riley (Freakke) has posted a reward for the serial killer Frostbite Jak (JRiley) for crimes against Azeroth and the Horde. 1000 gold to be paid for proof the Forsaken villain has been bested. James will be in the Ruins of Lordaeron at the stairs East of the shattered statue on August 8th (Wednesday) at 8pm (server time) to give would be Bounty Hunters information on where their prey will be and what to expect. --- Come and roleplay as bounty hunters or an angry mob in this player run quest! Chase down a dangerous criminal and get paid for doing good work for the Horde. First person to find and beat Jak in a duel gets the prize but I hope you all get to have a good time.
  27. Ninorra

    Hello there!

    Sounds good! The Discord channel I gave you is for all of our server's RPers so you'll be able to chat with people from many guilds!
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