Cobrak

Eclipse: Operation Clusterfuck

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How long has it been since he last felt the biting cold of Northrend's winds? How long since he tasted the sweet aroma of pine that danced in the air? How long since he had stained this land's snows red with the blood of whoever had the misfortune to cross him?

Cobrak looked down to the goblin who now counted himself amongst his death toll in this frigid land, his head resembling a watermelon with a firecracker lit in its core. A point-blank shot from Broden's rifle tended to do that. The hunter nudged a foot under the dead goblin, flipping him onto his back. A symbol etched onto his gear, a pile of coins with a crossed sword and rifle, was the only clue to be had of his attacker's identity.

Another goblin sailed overhead as Cobrak nonchalantly reviewed the one beneath him, uncaring in the slightest towards the miniature scene of mayhem behind him. A human leapt into the air, broadax raised high to bisect the unwary hunter below....only for his face to be engulfed whole by a tauren's gloved hand. He wriggled and squirmed in the grip for but a moment until the hold tightened, the human's head becoming little but paste. His freedom was given when the hand released, the body crumpling lifelessly to the ground as the pulpy head oozed underneath.

"Cruuuuuush...." Brammorn's catchphrase as always was said in the death knight's slow and echoing voice, the massive tauren now seeking new prey in the small skirmish.

Cobrak had seen this symbol before, but could not place it. "Whazat! Git ovah 'ere!" Surely the conman-turned-mercenary would be able to pinpoint the etching correctly.

"Little busy at the moment, Boss!" The reply came from his left, Cobrak finally deigning to look up from the oh-so interesting corpse. Whazat was busy scaling a mountain of a gnoll, daggers digging deep into the hyena-man's hump as it desperately tried to whack its goblin passenger with its shoddy mace.

A lone shot ceased the humorous melee, the gnoll's body slamming into the ground and sending the small rogue tumbling from its backside. "A little warning next time would be much appreciated, Boss!" He said indignantly, brushing himself off and realigning the wide-brimmed hat he was so fond of.

"Ah, quit yer bitchin' and take a gander at this." Leaving no room for argument, Whazat obeyed and meandered to the scene. Stopping cold in his tracks when an ogre roared in challenge towards him, only to then crash onto its knees, the back of his legs flowing freely with blood. Stepping from behind the massive warrior was a brown-skinned orc spinning a short-handled sword common amongst the Burning Blade. No time for the hulking being to recover as a draenei appeared in its front, the clawed gauntlets she wore gouging out the creature's lone eye before it had time to spit. The ogre collapsed, causing a waft of permafrost and dirt sailing into the air around him.

"They even have ogres here as well....Piss." Ny'shra spat, wiping the ogre blood from her blade.

"Mythis thinks it good! Means keeling many of them, yes?" Mythis giggled, her Eredun accent alighting her broken Orcish.

The two crazy ex-Highmaul gladiators shared a quick laugh before diving back into the action, allowing Whazat the time to look at Cobrak's prize...only now the hunter found himself flanked by another of the little green monsters, this one bearing an intricate suit of plate with a maelstrom of wires and circuitry peeking out from its seams. A pair of neon-green goggles hid his eyes as they looked upon the Deadshot leader.

Whazat rolled his eyes as his idiot brother saluted Cobrak gleefully, "Reporting in, General! I have slain three of the enemy comba..." Rekkit cut himself off, lifting his arm and allowing a small rocket attached to his wrist to suddenly jettison from his person, its short trip ending as it violently exploded a stone's throw away. "Correction, FIVE enemy combatants!"

"Good, go kill five more, Rekk." Cobrak said, not even looking at the walking siege tank beside him. With a bellowed 'Yes, sir!' Rekkit hefted his axe and shield and ran back into the melee. Glad to be free of the armored brown-noser, Cobrak resumed their conversation. "So, what's this tell ya?" He tapped the symbol on the dead goblin's vest.

"Right, Goldvein Union mercs." Whazat answered without a moment's hesitation. "When Venture Co went belly up, their hired goons basically became stranded here. Heard they're desperate for cash...must've been easy for Karthok to get a good deal outta them."

"Huh...guess they's wanna put up an actual fight then." Cobrak muttered, stroking his beard as a throwing axe whirled past, striking a gun-toting goblin square in the forehead.

"Hey Cob, gonna be fightin' or havin' a lil' tea party ovah here?" Tazzuk wandered past the two, stooping down and freeing his axe from its gory roost, the voodoo idols embedded onto his shoulders glowing with mojo. The shadow hunter spun it casually in his hands before sending it careening off again into the shoulder-blade of another human. His curses in Common tongue soon turned to screams when Xekanjo's lanky form leapt onto his chest, the troll witch doctor's elongated thumbnails digging deep into his eyeballs. His pain came to a peak as the robed soulweaver surged with infernal power, the man's very spirit seeping from his gaping mouth into Xekanjo's awaiting maw. Slurping down the soul, the troll's eyes flared with power from behind his wooden voodoo mask and grinned with bloodthirsty zeal.

Tazzuk left the two with their corpse, the Darkspear rejoining his Shatterspear kin with the two now focusing on a tauren with a large maul, swinging it with reckless abandon. The two trolls circled round the figure...only for it to suddenly turn its weapon upon one of its nearby allies, smashing the dwarf's head in like a ripe melon.

"And lo doth it say in the good book..." The two trolls grimaced as a blood elf approached them, golden light flowing from his white silken robes, crystals infused with holy power dangled from his person as he held his large tome on high. "Beware the righteous, ye wicked! For they bear the power to pull the mind as though it were naught but clay, to mold as they see fit!" Valendis preached, walking assuredly as his thrall continued rampaging hither and yon. "To turn against their vile compatriots as the great Light sears all notion of sin and taint from their hearts to become a vassal fit to serve the divine!"

His evangelism ceased somewhat when the holy shield he placed around himself came under fire...literally. A barrage of fireballs impacting harmlessly upon the ethereal surface of Valendis' summoned aegis, the elf's face never twisting from his haughty expression.

The orc mage that had become his foe now began conjuring a spell, a small meteor in his hands as he chanted the words of power to end the little elf. He stood ready to unleash it....only for the entirety of the pyroblast to dissipate entirely from his hold, vanishing harmlessly back into magical energy. The mage could only wear a confused look on his face until it turned into one of agony as a blade ripped through his throat, severing the head neatly from its body to crumple in a bloodied heap.

A flick of the wrist freed the pike's blade from the blood that had collected upon it, and there amidst the gore, stood another blood elf. This one however, was adorned in steel and armor, a dozen sigils emblazoned upon his body glowing like miniature suns. Caldrien scoffed at his victim before turning a condescending glare towards his ceremonious son, the latter shrugging uncaringly before continued his preachy spiel as he reaffirmed his mental hold upon his newest minion.

Cobrak's curiosity sated for now, he turned back to the battle, only for it now to properly labeled as clean-up. The two dozen or so mercenaries sent to test their mettle dwindled to maybe a handful of those still able fight with the rest either dying or dead already. A human tried fleeing only to be pounced upon a white blur of fur and fangs, Kain's twin heads gladly ripping apart the prey trapped beneath his hulking frame. The hunter hefted his rifle as he strolled past his dog devouring a man whole, opting on letting Kain have some fun before the actual battle starts.

"So 'ow many ya git, Kurr?" A feminine voice with an accent similar to his own piqued Cobrak's interest, his lone eye now searching for the source. There, sitting with her legs crossed upon a fallen ogre sat his sister, Pythral, smiling fully as her twin maces rested near her feet.

"I was not keeping count, my love." And of course, within barking distance sat her mate, Kurruk. The orcish shaman's pauldrons crackling with electricity as he spoke, obviously not having used a good deal of energy in this skirmish.

"Wha? I told ya ta start keepin' count! How am I s'posed ta gloat over ya iffin ya don 'ave anythin' ta show?!" Pythral put on her greatest fake lecturing voice as she berated the father of her children, Kurruk merely looking ashamed at the supposed disappointing words flung his way.

"So 'ow many DIDJA git, gnome-sucker?" Cobrak teased, catching his sister's irate glare.

"I got five, so there!" She childishly stuck out her tongue, blowing a raspberry towards her idiot brother.

It was then Cobrak noticed one of the forms on the ground had begun crawling away during the chatter, a quick draw of the gun with a bullet to the brain ended that. "Tha' makes six fer me." He chuckled.

"Tha don count! 'E was already 'alfway dead!"

"Then make sure they's all tha way dead, nex' time!" He called over shoulder as he walked away, leaving her to steam ruefully.

The wind picked up again, blowing that same fresh scent of piney aroma, though now all the more pleasant as it held a tinge of blood in its mix. Cobrak inhaled it deeply, hoping to calm his nerves for the battle ahead, walking towards the cliff side where Rhuune stood with spyglass in hand.

The tauren was far lankier than most of his kind, looking more akin to a night elf in a tauren costume rather than a full-grown bull. The druid turned to his leader as he approached, a look of worry etched on his face.

"Wass wit' tha down in tha mouth look ya got goin' on?" Cobrak slapped the bull full on the back, nearly sending him reeling down the cliff. "Iffin ya're worried bout these arses, they's cupcakes! We'll run roughshod ovah 'em and git Brey outta there fore ya can spit."

Rhuune shook his head and offered the telescope to the hunter. "I do not think it's simple mercenaries we have to worry about..." Before the hunter could answer, Rhuune marched off to tend to any wounds the company might have suffered during the short fight.

Lifting the spyglass to his good eye, Cobrak surveyed the forest before him. Down below, the black iron-wrought fortress loomed in the distance, a picture perfect clone of the one he had seen from Xekanjo's soul-meld with Karthok. The only difference now was not only the several dozen of soldiers akin to the flunkies the Deadshots had just wiped out, but the other force Karthok had somehow managed to get on his side. Vrykul wandered between the assorted runtier mercenaries, berserkers and skalds all battle-ready and eager to fight. A few armored mammoths wandered the perimeter, armed to their tusks and ready to trample over any foe, the sky was no better, several proto-drakes wheeling about, their half-giant riders scanning every which where for intruders.

Cobrak muttered several curses under his breath as he turned to his small group of mercenaries. He smiled then, seeing them work amongst themselves. Karthok had a gaggle of mindless thugs, Cobrak had a group of men willing to die for each other. Not just them either, as he spotted several of his allies arrive to their encampment.

Turning back to the base, he knew somewhere inside that clusterfuck, the newest member of their dysfunctional little family awaited them. It didn't matter how many dim-witted, gold-grubbing goons Karthok threw at them, Cobrak had given his word to Naheal, and swore that the Deadshots would save Breygrah.

And he'll gut anyone who stands in the way of that.

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"Alright men, I have myself full confidence that if all do their duty, if nothing is neglected, and if the best arrangements are made, as they are being made, we shall prove ourselves once again able to defend our forest home, to ride out the storm of war, and to outlive the menace of tyranny, if necessary for years, if necessary alone. At any rate, that is what we are going to try to do. That is the resolve of the 37th Infantry-every man of them. That is the will of Horde and the 37th. The 37th and the Vyrkul, linked together in their cause and in their need, will defend to the death their native soil, aiding each other like good comrades to the utmost of their strength. Even though large tracts of Northrend and many old and famous States have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Alliance and all the odious apparatus of Vol'jin's rule, we shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in Grizzly Hills,

we shall fight on the ponds and puddles,

we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our person we tortured, whatever the cost may be,

we shall fight on the snowy bits,

we shall fight on the not so snowy bits ,

we shall fight in the ramparts and in the spike traps,

we shall fight in that hill over there;

we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Garrison or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our other Garrisons beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the Mercenaries we hired, would carry on the struggle, until, in Hellscream’s good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old."

Crichan smiled at his rousing speech, making sure to use lots of hand gestures and impassioned talking. Fully clothed in his three piece suit, cane in hand, monocle on face, pipe in mouth he screamed these words to his assembled men, of which he had named all of them. Fluffy bellowed some words back in whatever the hell Vyrkul language was and threw his axe into the air, coming down and hacking his hand off when he tried to catch it.

"FLUFFY! NO!" Crichan screamed as he repeatedly smacked the Viking's head with his cane. "Bad Fluffy! Go get a new hand from Blacksmithy right this second! They're almost here for Hellscream's sake!" The Vyrkul ran off to go get a new sword hand as he was ordered. "Now then, all of you! Remember when I taught you to grab the big spikes we made and charge? Well don't do that! They have horses, or wolves, probably! So just leave the spikes where they are and let them impale themselves upon them! Also! Do not step on the landmines or trigger the explosive traps, they are extremely dangerous! So just stay within the boundaries of this Garrison okay? Okay. Now, i'm going to go get in the lead Demolisher, the rest of you get to your positions!" Crichan sauntered off with his cane and hopped up into the biggest Demolisher, checking altimiters and azimuths and such.

Shokkra looked on from the ramparts at their army. Dragon and Mammoth riders were all over the place, giant vikings howled and beat their chests, the mercenaries set up small defences with spiked and explosives. The field and hill ahead of them was riddled with landmines and pit traps. An massive boulder of flame impacted the hill, Shokkra looked over and saw Crichan fiddling with his Demolisher's controls, cursing in common. This was going to be such a clusterfuck.

Karthok squeezed his sister's shoulder and smiled from behind his mask. "Not what you expected Shokky?" Shokkra chuckled, taking her helmet off.

"It's never what we expect Karthok. There's always something." The orcess surveyed the battlefield again, looking at the growing force on the other side. They were formidable, there were many. The 37th had more on their side, but all of them would die. The only ones that would put up a good fight were the 37th's personal forces. Shokkra's couple Vyrkul bodyguards, Crichan's band of undead apothecaries and siege machinists, even though Alakroz wasn't here a couple of his Gurubashi friends were here. Karthok had his snipers in the towers.

"Shokky, we'll be okay."

"No Karthok. We won't."

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From up above, a raven circled as it looked upon the battlefield. Vrykul, Trolls, and siege weapons were all arrayed before the fortress. Fearlessly it landed in the middle of the minefield as it dodged the proto-drakes overhead and their Vrykul masters. Slowly a black mist enveloped it, masking it from view.

Standing from the darkness was Darrethy, alone and apparently without any weapon besides his sword. The skulls of his Illdari armor burned brightly as he spoke, his voice carried over the battlefield to all the participants.

"We have come for the 37th, surrender and be spared, fight and die."

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"GENIUS PLAN MR RAVEN!" Crichan howls as he lobs a flaming boulder at Darrethy. "EAT THAT!" Fluffy screams his admiration and rallies his Valkyr.

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Cobrak spotted the lone warlock standing in the midst of an etire platoon of vrykul from his vantage point. Slamming his spyglass shut he grunted in mock offense, "Sunuva bitch's tryin' ta steal all tha fun!" With a rousing shout that echoed throughout the hills he turned to his mercenaries and his assorted allies, "ARE WE GONNA LET'IM HOG ALL THA GLORY?!"

"FUCK NO!" The Deadshots chanted back full of vigor, their combined voices rallying over their leader's. THe assorted non-mercs looked at each other at the sudden cursing, unsure of what came next.

"Git tha catapaults ready! We's executin' tha Thunderdrop!" Another cheer and the Deadshots scurried off.

Pensively, a figure strode to where Cobrak stood. Lomani's fingers prodding each other in worry, over the battle or over the fate of the former Horn, none could say. "Cobrak, perhaps it may...be helpful to know what this Thunderdrop is?" Lomani somewhat shied away from the boisterous guffaw that followed her question, Cobrak wearing the smile of a madman as he spoke.

"Ya afraid'a heights, girlie?"

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Darrethy grinned "I was hoping you'd do that, time to make some FLESH SCULPTURES!" a pair of demonic wings erupted from his back as he lept out of the way of the boulder, rolling in the ground as the mines went off. Several of the explosions sent shrapnel and dust tearing through his robes and into his skin, outstretching one hand towards where he saw the boulder being lobbed, speaking an incantation under his breath.

...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Forged from flame and felstone, large orbs of rock were loaded into Mo'arg cannons on Argus. Again came the summons as agents of the burning legion scattered around to make the proper calibrations to their machinery and ensure pinpoint accuracy. The overseer himself, a big red brutish monstrosity of demonflesh and technological devices, put information into a nearby console with his claw like hands "Moltengore, go and rain down destruction!"

Of course the legion often loses it's prized infernals and Abyssals to Azerothian Warlocks who know how to alter their communications, and it was much the same here as the gigantic beast of flame and pain was launched out into the Twisting Nether at insane speeds, it's body hurtling past planets and stars, aiming to crash land right into Crichan.

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"......fuck." Crichan jumped out of his Demolisher as the demon flew into it. It exploded into a massive ball of flame, sending shrapnel flying and Crichan's tophat being incinerated. He stood up and brushed some ashes off of his suit, readjusting his monocle. "That was my favorite Death Machine. Oh well. TO ARMS MY BROTHERS!" Crichan whirled his cane overhead and led the charge of Vyrkul warriors towards the battlefield, making sure not to step on all the damn landmines. "FLUFFY KILL BIRDMAN!" Fluffy grabbed Crichan and set him on his shoulders, running off to kill some birds man.

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And yet, the chaos hardly ended on impact.

"Cruuuuuuush." Moltengore did his best Brammorn impression as he slowly rose out of the rubble, massive fel burning body corrupting everything around it as it strode out of it's crator. It tore out a tree by the roots, and even as it migh be fired upon it set that tree alight, using it as a massive blazing mace as it smashed aside enemies left and right with it's swings.

Darrethy grinned wickedly as the Vrykul warriors approached, rushing to meet them with his sword raised "By the Dark Lady I give you the harshest sentence under Forsaken law! TRUE DEATH!" he roared and a volley of shadowbolts rushed from his hand, exploding the ground where they landed. One set of unfortunate Vrykul were met with quite a surprise when Darrethy's Shivarra uncloaked from behind one of the trees, grinning wide as her fel blades wove a dance of death into the 37th ranks. With a howl of raw madness, the Warlock's body transformed into that of a demon, waves of fire, ice, shadow, light, lightning, and fel energy rushing forward to shatter ground and man alike in a display of power.

Darrethy cared not even as a massive axe dug into his chest, instead grabbing the Vrykul by the head, immolating it's skull in a single word of power before ripping it's soul clean from it's body and devouring it whole "More, MORE!" he whirled on Crichen and Fluffy, snapping his fanged mouth hungrily as he leaped towards them.

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Lomani stared at the insane orc for a long moment. This was not a rescue attempt, this was a war. She'd been right to leave the others where they were.

Shaking her head, she uttered a quick prayer over all those she could see, asking the Earth Mother to strengthen and fortify their bodies and minds. Like any other battle prayer, it included the wish that the enemy also be brave strong, so that if a warrior were to die, they would not be ashamed.

She left them then, returning to her windrider. The beast looked odd, armored as it was in plates of green. Beneath her silken gray dress, Lomani was similarly protected. It was the first time she had worn the armor since having it crafted. She retrieved the helmet from where it sat on the pommel. The metal was cold, but it would soon warm against her face. It covered most of her features, but most importantly, her head. Knowing this to be her weakest point, the helmet was a special piece, crafted specifically to her alone. She felt stupid, wearing it.

Lomani gave one last look at the chaos errupting in front of the fortress, and then she gently kicked the windrider. The beast flew back away from both the Deadshots and the 37th, away from the fortress. She made certain she was well out of sight before pulling on the reins, steering the powerful head to circle back around.

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Jiying crept through the traps, mines and spikes effortlessly. She ducked behind mounds as vrykul passed, the rogue jumped up in the dust that was flying through the air to smack on in the forehead with her sap and throw powder of the eyes of a second before they had a chance to even see her.

She slipped in along the inside wall of the fortifications and her eyes mapped the grounds. Ji could still hear the cries from the Death Master, but she refrained from the sinister giggle she wanted to belt out. She had flint and tinder in one pouch on her belt, and a flare in the second on the other side. Now, she only needed to find the correct structure to mark.

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Darrethy jumped on Fluffy's chest, ripping and tearing at his throat, devouring him. Fluffy groaned and fell to his knees punching absently at the demon. But being the genius that he is, Crichan started wacking viciously at Darrethy's head, forcing the demon infused warlock to look at him, blood dripping from his mouth. "I'd like to point out, you lost the style contest." Crichan poked him on the forehead with the end of his wacky stick before promptly jumping off and waltzing around the battlefield up towards the Deadshots.

Shokkra signaled to the proto drake riders and they soared towards the Deadshots, shooting fire from their mouths and wreaking havok. Karthok called up to his snipers to start marking targets.

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"Are you kidding me?" Darrethy replied even as he was smacked him in the head "This is all the style." he grinned wickedly just as the proto-drake riders began belching fire all over the battlefield, scorching the land and prematurely detonating mines uncomfortably close. Growling, Darrethy ran towards one of the Vrykul and settled into a creator, using the giants corpse as a rough shield as the land was coated in fire. Alizabal continued her onslaught, gracefully dodging the flames with impossible ease, but for the moment the Warlock was pinned down and resorted to casting shadowbolt volley's on anyone unfortunate enough to wander near.

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Lomani's windrider bounded through the trees it's leonine body easily leaping over rocks and weaving through the trees. It was actually harder to remain mounted this way, as the creature used wings and claws to suddenly shift momentum in a different direction.

It knew the way to it's brother.

Lomani spotted the dark wall looming ahead of her in no time. She left the windrider under the tree cover and found Coqui staring at her watchfully already when she finally stepped close enough to see them.

The sunwalker was even more formidable than usual. Most of her lightless black fur was covered in dusky violet plate, a shade not far from black itself. Her eyes were actually brightest thing about her. It took two glances to notice curves that showed the armor contained a female, rather than a male. Lomani thought, not for the first time since they'd arrived in Grizzly Hills, that she would not ever like to make the woman angry at her.

Still in place, the elderly shaman Anura sat surrounded by her totems. Her Far Sight had proven invaluable in scouting the fortress, and this spot in the rear was almost secluded. With the mayhem occurring in the front, the hope was that they could get in and find Breygrah. They were relying quite a bit on the shaman's skills.

The mature tauren woman was communicating with three elements via a tiny elemental of the fourth, which Lomani thought of as merely Anura's Voice. The little water waveling could pick up the shaman's thoughts and speak them almost as if it were her directly. She was asking them all to help her free a shu'halo from this place- fire, earth, and air. There was no easy entrance- instead she was asking them to make one. To melt the metal and quietly erode the stone, to shift the winds enough to mask their sounds, or perhaps any other methods the elementals wished- the results were the important thing.

Quietly, tensely, Lomani and Coqui watched the shaman to see if this would work. They made sure no one discovered them, and they listened to the sounds of battle not far away.

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"Eyes on the sky! They're-!" The human's order were caught off as a grenade landed in the midst of him and several of his mercenary soldiers milling about the ramparts of the base. Limbs flew all about as Rekkit soared in from on high, his parachute allowing him to harmlessly roll into position upon the catwalks. Caldrien and Valendis landed softly beside him, their position soon becoming overwhelmed by bullets and arrows.

Cobrak saw from his point that the three hurried along the walkways, keeping low as to avoid the stray projectile as they hurried to one side of the gatehouse. Two levers were needed to be pulled to open the black iron gates that impeded their entry. One had been secured from the looks of the assorted mercenary corpses flung from its windows.

"Whaz! Tazz! Xek! Load up! Yer hittin' the west house!" Cobrak bellowed as the three catapaults hefted their load, their passengers clicking their parachutes together. "Fire!" All three jettisoned off towards the western wall, becoming as bullets until nearing their destination, wafting down gently...well, gently as could be with another grenade making the crowd disperse into a bloody pulp.

Cobrak smiled, until he saw the proto-drake riders whirl towards them. The confident grin became one laden with bloodthirst as he hopped onto a catapult, Mythis and Ny'shra doing the same as all hefted Thunderlord harpoons.

"Gates open, give'em hell!" Cobrak bellowed as the catapaults vaulted them into the sky, the vrykul riders howled in challenge as the ordered their mounts' maws to open wide.

The three rifles they bore embedding their harpoons straight into the awaiting flanks of the drakes, harnesses now their life-line as the small goblin mechinations whirred and pulled upon the taunt ropes, whisking them alongside the riders.

Cobrak hefted his rifle and unloaded a few rounds into the hapless rider, watching him plummet to the ground below as Cobrak took the reins and whirled the beast around. Mythis gained herself a trophy it seemed as she bounced the vrykul's head playfully about like a ball, her sworn sister Ny'shra the exact opposite as she coolly finished off the rider with a single stroke her blade.

The three drakes whirled down to the front of the gates, dragonfires igniting a path of flame through the barricades and mines, clearing the way for the front assault. Cobrak howled in frenzy as he saw his men succeed, the gates of Karthok's base now slowly opening.

Cobrak steered his drake into a mammoth, allowing the two beasts to begin fighting amongst themselves as he hopped off onto an unsuspecting skald below. His rifle's bayonet found a home in the giant-man's eye, Cobrak hefting his orb as he does so. "DEADSHOTS! GIT IN THA FIGHT!"

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When Crichan finally got to the top of the hill all the Deadshots were gone. "Ugh, just got here everyone's already gone. Fine, let's take one of these handy dandy catapults!" Crichan clambered into the launcher and whacked the rope with his stick, sending him flying through the air...straight onto the back of the drake Cobrak was fighting. He just stared at Cobrak as he jabbed the Valkyr with his bayonet. Crichan calmly jumped over to Cobrak's drake and whacked the Deadshot's commander with his cane, also wrapping his arms tight around Cobrak's chest. "Nice weather we're having eh?"

Karthok shot a flare into the sky as the Deadshot's poured in through the gates, snipers starting to shoot at the exposed soldiers. Karthok himself retreated to the shadows, coordinating his attacks on the enemy.

Shokkra roared, charging down to fight the Deadshot's head on with her bodyguards and the Gurubashi Beserkers. The remaning demolishers focused on the massive demon, sending volley after volley into it's chest as it tore through the Vyrkul ranks.

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"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOBLIVION!" Moltengore rumbled even as his form became unstable from the constant smashing of boulders against it's rocky flame, it turned from the Vrykul, recognizing they were no longer the main threat "DESTROY!" it scooped up one of the Demolishers in it's massive hands, and promptly hurled it like a fiery comet towards the Gurubashi Beserkers.

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"Ah dinna sign up fo dis shit!" The passioned cry of the Beserker was the last thing he ever heard. The remaining Trolls shrugged and charged forward into the Deadshot ranks.

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Anura grinned suddenly, glancing back to face her skytotem Sisters. She turned back to the earth elemental, prepared to thank it, but it was already halfway submerged in the ground, working on her request.

Better than merely a single hole through this one wall, the shaman had been gifted with a tunnel directly to the lower levels. She almost laughed as dirt began blowing up from the hole swiftly being dug before her. It fell back down onto her hair, piling in the folds of her robes.

Coqui stood there, her mouth gaping at their good fortune. Now they would not have to try sneaking around 37th infantry forces to find the dungeon. Perhaps rescuing Breygrah would be easier than she thought.

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"UNHAND THE GENERAL, SCUM!" The sudden roar caught Crichan off-guard as an armored goblin plowed into his side, his shield a battering ram sending the undead sailing ass over end. The rogue realigned his monocle as he spotted the form of Rekkit whirling his electrified axe. "Welcome to Domination Country, Nancy! POPULATION: YOU!" The two rushed headlong into each other, the rogue quick, but Rekkit stronger. The cane knocked the axe away, the shield slapped away the cane, dagger found the shield's straps and severed them, until the dagger clanged against the ground when a rock barreled into the undead's noggin.

Crichan grinned, "Shall we settle this like gentleman?" He chuckled, exposing his the claws that served as fingernails, one could see the poison they were laced with. Rekkit laughed back, smahsing his armored fists together until electricity arced over the gauntlets. The rushed each other once again, devolving into little more than a backyard brawl.

Cobrak resumed his charge as the Deadshots poured in, following the trailblazing fire he had made. A glaive to the skull ended one of the giant-men, a shot to the heart followed by another in the right eye finished a goblin merc, another and another fell to him as he made for the main hall. He had only one prey in mind.

Shokkra was not that prey, even as she hooled in fury, swinging her axe alongside her over-inflated trolls. The careening of the flaming demolisher crushed a few of them, but still more rushed headlong into the fray. Several more found their end to Ny'shra and Mythis' swooping fire bombings. Still, the orcess roared...fearless that one.

The sudden trumpeting akin to one of the mammoth riders sounded, only this one tinged with unholy power. Bringing his gargantuan undead mammoth, Brammorn rode atop his prized Tusk, the remaining Deadshots clustered about the great figure as it paved the way through mercs and vrykul alike. A sniper round managed to pin itself into Valendis' shoulder, another into Whazat's leg; already the menders came to them.

"Towers need to go..." Cobrak thought, catching the eyes of Ny'shra. Several hand motions were relayed to the flying Burning Bladesman, her nodding in confirmation as she reigned her drake towards the tower whilst Mythis did the same to another. Twin gouts of dragonfire purged the upper reaches clean. Cobrak grinned in victory as he continued his stride.

"LOK'TAR OGAR!" Shokkra roared, leaping through the air intent on making Cobrak into thinly-sliced orc. Her axe cleft the ground, fidning no orc only dirt. "Cobrak laughed as he throttled Shokkra in the head with the stock of gun, escaping towards the main hall as she recovered.

"Ya ain't the main course, girlie." He laughed at her, increasing in volume as she fumed underneath her helmet.She made to chase only for Caldrien to step forward in challenge.

"Surrender, you cannot win, youngling." His voice echoed in mystic origin. The only answer she gave was the shotput throw of her massive axe, for it be parried aside by his pike. Quickly she closed the distance, hammering her fists into Caldrien's face. A surge of holy power rocked her core and she relented for a moment, allowing the Spellbreaker to hammer her with another Light-infused attack. Shokkra stood there, a torrent of pure rage as she knocked over one of her own mercenaries, snapping the human's neck and claiming his broadsword as her own.

"I'm gonna enjoy ripping out the rest of your innards, elf."

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The young rogue crouched in a corner as she awaited the distractions to draw potential attention away from her movements. The first structure was empty, probably a storehouse of some sort holding the weapons and supplies the infantry needed directly. She pulled out a canister she bartered for after gaining recognition from the Royal Apothecary Society, and opened it to inspect the paste within. A cloth was wrapped around the pandaren's hand and she smeared the paste across the back of her hand before quickly painting a broad X across the face. With a strike of her flint, a flame spread quickly across the gum, but burned slowly. A bullet whizzing just past her nose snapped her to attention, and with a great spark and a flash of light, a cloud of smoke and dust obscured her once more.

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"Right hook! Left hook! Left Block! Right uppercut! Left kick! Right block! Left block! Right block! Left Block! Dual Uppercut!" Crichan narrated his glorious battle with Rekkit as he and the goblin beat each others heads. Crichan grabbed some nearby snow and smushed it on Rekkit's head. The goblin responded by splashing some mud at the Zombie. "You dare dirty my suit? I shall have you hung by your underwear from the top of Dalaran! Right hook! Left hook..."

Shokkra charged with her new broadsword at the elf. She hacked at the elf's neck, he parried somewhat easily with his pike. Caldrien readied a holy spell but Shokkra kicked him swiftly in the chest. The elf struck at Shokkra's chest so she pinned it in her armpit and swung down into the elf's leg, blood somewhat spurting. She kicked him in the face for good measure.

A friend of Crichan's had started throwing grenades at the quickly coming Deadshots, getting a good couple hits in before ooze pooled from the hole that Ny'shra made in his skull.

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Guards in the 37th dungeon heard a strange sound. Both orcs, they were posted behind a heavy iron door listening to the very faint thuds of battle above. They'd been instructed not to open the door to anyone but Shokkra or Karthok, and even then only if they spoke the pass phrase. It was their ill luck to have drawn the short straws. As if they had to worry about their prisoner escaping. Humph!

The two sat at a table playing cards, missing all the fun topside. The taller one, hard of hearing, cocked his head at the strange sound. “What you doin? NO cheatin!!”

“It ain't me!..” the other orc yelled. He stood up just in time to have his unoccupied stool disappear into a yawning hole in what was previously a solid stone floor. He peered at it, drawing his sword. The taller orc had basically a club, with a wicked spike on the end. He was smart enough to grab a torch.

The taller orc waved the torch over the hole. The flames dimmed a moment with the movement, and then they could both make out the reflection of metal off something in the hole.

“Well hello boys,” Coqui said.

A flash of yellow-white light suddenly illuminated the tunnel, blinding both orcs staring right at it. The sunwalker climbed up from the tunnel, easily blocking the wild swinging of the taller orc, and outright shoving the shorter one over.

The orc with the club blinked, his sight returning, and he jabbed at Coqui's back as she went to stomp the shorter guard unconscious.

He missed, and for a split second he was confused. Instead of his weapon connecting with the intruder's back, he flew backwards and his head connected with the solid edge of the tunnel. He stared for a moment at a pair of green eyes and flashing stars before he was promptly used like a ladder for the frantic seer to escape the dark tube of rock she'd just been pushed through.

Lomani had magically snatched him, having hoped to pull herself out of the hole. She'd forgotten that such a spell did not take weight into account- she would pull her target toward her every time, unless she kept enough focus to consciously reverse the movement. Regardless, she was free of the dark hole that reminded her entirely too well of her chieftain's dream.

The shaman laughed at the unfortunate guard, then slammed her mace to the top of his head to finish what Lomani had started. She climbed slowly from the tunnel.

Coqui had not been successful in stomping on the orc. He rolled away, evading her hoof, and then also her sword. He got to his feet and swiped his sword at her. She jerked her shield in the way, then attacked with her own sword.

The orc took the bait. He blocked her strike and she sent a shock through him, then swung her left arm. Her shield crashed down on the orc's head, and he went down.

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Ji dodged bullets from the snipers. She crept along in the shadows and dispatched stragglers as she found them. The structures were marked one by one until only one remained. The canister of the little remaining paste was tucked into a pouch and the oily rag tossed to the side as she surveyed the walls of the encampment for activity, then scurried along the perimeter of the remaining building. A bullet from a gunman grazed the pandaren's leg as she rushed around a corner, and she bit down on her lip until the sting was repressed enough. A shriek soon sounded from the direction of the shot, followed by a heavy thud on the ground nearby. A cheer rang out from... one of the Deadshots. Jiying didn't know who was who, and she didn't quite care at the moment, as she had her own objectives. Her hood was pulled from her head and the fabric cut to be wrapped around her leg and catch the blood that luckily only trickled from her wound.

The next corner revealed a stairwell, leading down to the lower level, that ended with an imposing iron door. The rogue pulled a folded leather pouch from a slotted pocket on her back that contained her lockpicking tools, but her interested expression turned into a frown when she realized that they would be useless to open the thing. With the tools back in their place, she knocked softly upon the door in several places, in an attempt to find a weak spot. The explosives she brought with her would be useless, as well.

Jiying steeled herself. She walked out far enough until she could see the sky, and hear the fighting coming closer and closer. Her eyes lingered for just a moment on the few clouds that hung high with a great breath. The stairs were climbed once again as she carefully inspected the battle's progress, but from her vantage point it was hard to tell who was doing what. Instead, she emptied the rest of her canister across the ground in a giant circle. With one strike of her flint, it was set ablaze, and she raced back down the stairs. Just before she reached the bottom, Jiying turned and fired her flare.

She crept down into the shadows of the overhang and crouched next to the door with daggers ready, until she remembered the stealth device she was handed earlier by one of the name nameless faces she barely met in passing. She didn't much like it, but she activated the apparatus, sure that she would be met with more than her own allies. She would have to be ready for them.

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Shokkra had strength and vigor, but Caldrien had experience and speed in spades. He had adjusted to the almost feral offensive fighting style, effortlessly parrying and dodging around her wild attacks. Already she began to huff in exasperation, or tiredness, hard to tell as she spun viciously, hoping to decapitate the Spellbreaker. Her blood hit the ground as his pike found perch in her side, avoiding the following mule kick hoping to knock him off-balance.

"Damn you, FIGHT LIKE AN ORC!" She howled, devolving into a mindless flurry of attacks, made all the more enraged when her opponent merely smirked and said nothing, continuing his rope-a-dope style of swordsmanship.

THen it happened. He felt it. Now now. Air no longer filled his lungs and instead burst out of it violent coughing, blood trickled from his mouth as he hacked and wheezed. The old wound upon his neck festered and burnt him on the inside, his strength left him as he collapsed to the ground on his knees, the senior elf now helpless.

Shokkra grinned viciously as she hefted the sword once again, moving to finish her prone opponent, onyl for a flash of red and green to barrel over Caldrien, his spear hooking clean on her chin. Tazzuk looked down at the elf as he sputtered and coughed, shaking his head.

"Go head an' retire, old elf...I be cleanin' up ya mess for ya." THe shadow hunter cracked his neck and slipped into a pandaren style of fighting, spear held along his back with one of his lankier arms in a ready position in front of him.

Cobrak barreled his way through the battlefield, running and gunning his way to the main hall of the base. A mammoth riddled with wounds soon threw its vrykul passengers off as Rhuune calmed the beast in the beast's tongue. Whazat was down for the count with Kurruk tending to him, a human who wanted to interfere with this soon found haf of his head missing as Pythral's mace introduced itself. Brammorn and Tusk stomped throughout the field, the unholy beast rushing vrykul beneath its hooves like fruit. Xekanjo and Valendis laughed like madman as they forced their enemies to turn on their friends, hacking them to bits as they cried for release. Ny'shra's drake was finally brought down, the gladiator's blade becoming a storm of pain as it sought out any enemy to disembowel. Mythis' laughs still filled the air as her own stolen mount reduced another squad of mercenaries to a bruning crisp.

"You are weak, you are a bleeder!" Rekkit taunted as he nabbed Crichan in a headlock, pummeling the undead full in the face as he tried to stab a weak spot int he goblin's armor.

Cobrak finally entered the main hall, gun at the ready as he entered the pitch black room. His nose sniffed the air, hoping to catch a scent of his prey.

"I can smell ya, rat." He grunted, and Karthok only chuckled as the door shut behind Cobrak, sealing the two from the battle.

"Until I cut off your nose, at least."

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"A bleeder? You're a bleeder! You're a lamo! You're a potato farmer! You're a dirty wildabeast! You're an improper gentelman!" Crichan spattered out his competition winning insults as the Goblin pounded his skull in the headlock. But being the genius that he is, Crichan hammered his skull back into Rekkit's head, black ooze started pooling out the back of his head as he did so, blinding the poor goblin.

Shokkra charged the Darkspear, hacking, slashing, all that jazz. Tazzuk parried and blocked her attacks, some just barely, some extremely easy.

The battle raged on outside, explosions, fires, screams of pain. The Deadshots cut through ranks of Vyrkul and mercenairies. Blood gushing here, skulls breaking here.

Karthok laughed again from the shadows. "I see you brought your pet, fine little specimen that one. I'll enjoy replacing one of his heads with yours." He darted around the room, never staying in one spot for long.

"Yer just a rodent, another animal to be put down." Cobrak stalked around the room, rifle at the ready. Kain sniffed everywhere, picking up every scent there, except for Karthok's. A dagger flew from the rafters. Cobrak rolled out of the way, firing at the ceiling.

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