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About Xelthan

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    Junior Member
  1. Full Name: Xelthan Ravenveil Nicknames: Birthname (Ravenvale), Nine-hells Blade, Winter Solstice Date of Birth: Not really sure, since he doesn't care to mark his own birthday. Waste of time after so many years. Age: Not sure, but he knows he's younger than his wife Kurohane Race: Undead - Formerly Kaldorei Gender: Male Hair: Greenish-blue Skin: Sickly pale version of his former dark blue Eyes: Fel Green-yellow Height: 6' if he could ever stop stooping Weight: 100 lbs Place of residence: Brill Place of Birth: Kalimdor, near the Ashenvale region. Known Relatives: All deceased. Religion/Philosophy: Adapt and Overcome. Occupation: Deathstalker, Mercenary Group/Guild affiliation: None Guild Rank: None Enemies: He's lost count since things have changed since rising. Likes: Kurohane, a good scrap. Favorite Foods: None Currently Favorite Drinks: Does it have alchohol? Sign Xelthan up. Favorite Colors: Red and Black Weapons of Choice: Anything sharp. Dislikes: Idiots, Backstabbers (rogue irony, much?), Cowardice. Hobbies: None as of late as he is adjusting to Un-life. Physical Features: Undeath has torn his once muscular elven form assunder. He is often seen wearing goggles to hide the unnatural fel glow of his sunken eyes. Special Abilities: Assassin, Operative, Scout, Tactician, Clandestine Actions, Guerilla Warfare Positive Personality Traits: Xelthan is fiercely loyal to those that have earned that loyalty. Negative Personality Traits: Xelthan has a devil-may-care attitude...but very very few morals to speak of. Murder is simply not something worthy of guilt or hindsight to him. Misc. Quirks: Xelthan speaks with a strange accent, a mixture of Darnassian vowel pronunciation and Bloodsail Bucaneer turns of phrase and speech patterns. He's also known to laugh and joke even during the most bloody of fights.
  2. History *it wouldn't let me edit for some reason * Xelthan first began aiding in the reclamation of the Ashenvale forests, using his training as a Scout from his father alongside his brother, Vandin. Sometime after this, both brothers began a modest career as rogues to help with the money troubles their mother incurred upon their father's death. Xelthan began taking on the more unseemly jobs offered, which was a point of contention with his brother. Xelthan's choice to kill (for those jobs were far more profitable) heated the long standing arguement to an explosive stand-off with his brother Vandin, who decided to tell their mother the ugly truth of his brother's newfound fortunes. Brokenhearted and bitter for the experience of having to fight his brother and the rebuke from his mother, Xelthan fled to stalk the Barrens and make his way there. He met up with an envoy of the Bloodsail Bucaneers doing trade in Ratchet, and signed aboard as a crewmate. Fairly soon, his skills earned him a place as Master-at-arms aboard a ship bound back for the Eastern Kingdoms. While aboard, Xelthan enjoyed a relationship with a troll female, who had moved on from her tribe to try her hand as a privateer. The romance was brief, however. Shandia was killed in a failed bid to commandeer an Alliance vessel bound from Theramore. Xelthan decided to put to shore in Booty Bay and continue on with the skills that brought him coin if not happiness. Shortly thereafter, Alliance authorities caught up with him and he was imprisoned for aiding in the acts of Piracy against Theramore. He was brought back to Theramore and it was there, while in his holding cell, that he recieved news from his estranged brother that their mother had passed on. Xelthan served out his sentance and made his way north back to his birthhome, and onto Teldrassil where his mother was buried, hoping to somehow reunite with Vandin in the process. There he found the grave...and learned of his Brother's death at the hands of an Undead rogue named Yomi. Kurohane had come there to console him and offer him a place in the same guild Vandin had served in until his murder. Bent on vengeance, Xelthan agreed. Soon after, Yomi was ambushed and destroyed. Xelthan stayed on in thanks to Kurohane for her help and to aid her cause. Some time later, the two fell in love and were wed. Xelthan had previously undergone some changes due to, as far as he can recall, a battle he involved himself in before the Dark Portal itself. He had memories from a life that wasn't his, the ability to speak and understand Druidic...and a newfound focus for fighting beyond merely killing. Recently, Xelthan's foray's into the city of Zul'Gurub have earned him a place within the Zandalar Tribe, and initiate to their "Death's Hand" group of assassins. Moreover, the elder there bestowed favor on the one whom, even for a short time, had made one of their own content and happy. The elder, Shandia's grandfather, gave his blessings to Xelthan and bid him continue his fight, whatever it might be.
  3. Xelthan

    Nouri

    Nouri's as tough as they come, even if he doesn't realize it. He's one of the few priests i still have respect for these days, and one of the few I can honestly say I would not want as an enemy. Still, he's a good man in the light, as they say. Even when he's elbow-deep in the shadow, so to speak.
  4. Xelthan

    Servants

    Trias moved a knight into place, his fingers resting upon the piece a moment before deciding the move was the correct one and leaning back away from the board. "So which one is in place now, 'Divh?" Conidivh examined the board a moment before realizing he had been adressed. "Hmm? Yes. The real deal, as they say, is currently installed in his rightful place. He'll behave. He's realized that the current political and outer enviroment is alligned against him." Trias took a sip from his flask and nodded. "So the mark against him? Lovely really put that into motion, did she?" Conidivh chuckled and moved a pawn into position for emphasis. "Correct. It was a stroke of malevolence that I did not honestly think her capable of. Needless to say, it worked in my favor while persuading Benedictus to see my side of the argument." "Hmm. What else beyond pain could you have used to 'persuade' Benedictus into anything?" Trias studied the board, ocassionally glancing up at his companion. "Fear. Benedictus' experience in the catacomb showed him one thing above all else; no one in Stormwind is beyond reproach or payment. No amount of guards would protect him from further rebuke, and no amount of loyalty is now left within the Church to succor him. He can either do as he is told, or learn to forego sleep, trust of food and drink, and house suspicion for everyone around him for the rest of his days." Trias took another draught. "Well then. Very neat. You've still not told me where you were... or what happened between you and Lovely in Old Town..." Conidivh shrugged and slid his queen to take Trias' knight off the board. "No one in Stormwind...or elsewhere... is beyond reproach. I've payed my penance and been given reprieve. I wonder then how everyone else will fair now that I am to judge with a clear mind and crystal focus? I gave Benedictus the right to despair." Conidivh looked up at Trias, his face expressionless. "I wonder now what rights I will have to give to everyone else in my path."
  5. Xelthan

    Amaena

    Conidivh nods to himself, choosing his words with practiced care. "The girl is but a manifistation of her enviroment. One would almost take pity on her. One would also likely bleed to death during that particular lapse of judgement. She is ever the resourceful right hand."
  6. Full Name: Xelthan Ravenveil Nicknames: Birthname (Ravenvale), Nine-hells Blade, Winter Solstice Date of Birth: Not really sure, since he doesn't care to mark his own birthday. Waste of time after so many years. Age: Not sure, but he knows he's younger than his wife Kurohane Race: Kaldorei Gender: Male Hair: Dark Blue Skin: Dark purple Eyes: Standard male yellow/goldish glow Height: 7'0" Weight: 285 lbs Place of residence: Currently Ironforge Place of Birth: Kalimdor, near the Ashenvale region. Known Relatives: All deceased. Religion/Philosophy: Whatever works. Use your damn head, already. Occupation: Bounty Hunter, Mercenary Group/Guild affiliation: Dor Shando Guild Rank: Shando Enemies: A fair few, eh? Likes: Good friends, good times, good fights. Favorite Foods: Rosted meats, stews, etc Favorite Drinks: Does it have alchohol? Sign Xelthan up. Favorite Colors: Red and Black Weapons of Choice: Anything sharp. Dislikes: Idiots, Backstabbers (rogue irony, much?), Cowardice. Hobbies: When not seen with a lovely Kurohane on his arm, Xelthan is usually out on a paid job or wandering his favorite haunts of Andorhol or Burning Steppes. Physical Features: None to truly distinguish him out from other males aside from his dark coloring and perpetual 5-o'clock shadown. He gave up shaving that damn thing centuries ago. Special Abilities: Xelthan is a trained assassin by trade, so his abilities usually tie back into that. Positive Personality Traits: Xelthan is fiercely loyal to those that have earned that loyalty. Negative Personality Traits: Xelthan has a devil-may-care attitude...but very very few morals to speak of. Murder is simply not something worthy of guilt or hindsight to him. Misc. Quirks: Xelthan speaks with a strange accent, a mixture of Darnassian vowel pronunciation and Bloodsail Bucaneer turns of phrase and speech patterns. He's also known to laugh and joke even during the most bloody of fights. History: -Coming later today-
  7. Xelthan

    Conidivh

    Full Name: Conidivh Nicknames: -none noted- Date of Birth: Unknown on record. When asked, he merely replies with a winter month Age: 34 Race: Human Gender: Male Hair: White (apparently due to early poison/toxin exposure) Skin: SlightTan Eyes: Blue Height: 6'1" Weight: 197 lbs Place of residence: Unknown, but he is frequently seen in Stormwind Place of Birth: Unknown, but rumored to be Gilneas Known Relatives: None Religion/Philosophy: Conidivh has not professed any religion nor overiding philosophy beyond "what must be done for the Alliance". Occupation: Previous Spymaster for Si:7, Former Alchemist for the Syndicate, currently he's installed into the upper echelons of Stormwind Politics. Group/Guild affiliation: None noted or proven beyond Alliance faction. Guild Rank: None. Enemies: Conidivh has no standing rivalries or adversaries. He does, however, have "contacts". Likes: Unknown. He has been seen enjoying traveling acts or theater, however. Favorite Foods: Unknown. Favorite Drinks: Conidivh is noted to frequent the winery in Stormwind, but it's anyone's guess. Favorite Colors: Unknown. Weapons of Choice: None. Conidivh has not been reported to be carrying a weapon at any time. Dislikes: Unknown. Hobbies: Unknown. Physical Features: The white hair in particular marks him out for an old man, yet face-to-face conversations reveal his actual youth. He tends to speak evenly and calmly at all times, though hints of a northern accent can be picked up by a trained ear here and there. Special Abilities: Unknown. Positive Personality Traits: Conidivh normally presents a very positive demeanor and genuine geniality to those he holds conversations with. Negative Personality Traits: Conidivh can easily come off as smug, arrogant, or altogether aloof because of his even outward emotions. History: Little is actually known about Conidivh prior to his arrival in Stormwind 3 years ago and his indoctrination into Si:7. He has openly told others of his previous affiliation with the Syndicate as one of their premier Alchemists and Poison-masters. What is openly known beyond that is his apparent connection to a far-reaching and elaborate network of spies and informants, which placed Conidivh in the upper hierarchy of Si:7 until his mysterious disapperance several months back. Until such time, Conidivh was a known rogue, yet he has resurfaced recently with the abilities and trappings of a trained Warlock. Given the current corruption in Stormwind and his habit of saying a great deal while revealing absolutely nothing, most have not bothered to delve too deeply into Conidivh's new occupation.
  8. Xelthan

    Servants

    "I agree with you there. You, by definition of your station, are irreplaceable through any such means as the line of Shaws. Most astute of you to remind me. I had nearly forgotten that crucial piece of information while administrating my services to you the past few days." Conidivh bowed once again as if the Archbishop were not a nude tortured thing on the table before him. Benedictus' breath caught. "D-days? You lie. Someone would have come looking for me to stop this insult long before then. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, CUR?!" Conidivh sighed and moved out of reach of the spittle flying freely from the Archbishop's mouth, taking the time to make sure his regalia was still immaculate. "Yes. That. You may not know this, your grace, but I've had the distinct pleasure of putting Paladins, Priests, and even quite a few warriors to the question. I must say, with no small compliment to you, that you've presented a unique challenge to me. You see, I'm considered a fair man even by those under my particular brand of care. With that in mind, I've used alternative means for this meeting of ours to ensure that no physical harm can be seen. No scars, no disfigurement. I would prefer you hale in aesthetics if not in mind should you agree to my offer." The archbishop strained against his bindings. "Lies. You've no power to conduct this! You've not the time or energy to break MY will, fool! Someone will come for me and right this farce and I will personally pull the lever at your gallows!" The opposite man heaved another impressive sigh. "I had hoped for a bit more civility, but I can certainly understand your perspective, even one so obviously inflated by delusions of grandeur. A moment then, before we continue." Conidivh walked at a stately pace around the table to the man's right, where a smaller table with a number of vials was neatly placed. Conidivh gave the Archbishop one suffering glance over his shoulder, the look fathers gave wayward children before inflicting their punishment. He unstoppered on of the vials and connected it to a strange device fitted for it; an amalgam of silver with brass bindings that ended in a slender needle. Conidivh continued conversationally, as if discussing the weather, while inserting the needle into the crook of Benedictus' arm. "To answer your previous question. 'What have you done to me?' I believe it was. I'm somewhat of an alchemy buff, you see. This particular mixture is best delivered in stages. It accelerates your natural sensations, provides ample adreneline to stave off shock and provide conciousness, but has a tertiary agent that's practically three-fold in effect. It numbs the mucles, akin to a sever cramp. It is a slow-acting poison that works as a neurotoxin, adding to the existing pain you feel there. Lastly, it employs an advanced form of the standard Mind-Numbing agent used by rogues in the field to slow the energies of mages, druids and, of course, Priests such as yourself." Benedictus struggled, but to no avail. "You don't have the right toYYYYYYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGHHHHHH!!!!" The Archbishop's form tried to rise off the table as a new and hellish pain coursed through him. This was beyond reckoning, beyond endurance. This fresh torture was a bonfire beside the match-flame of the previous. His scambled thoughts plucked prayers for the darkness again out of the jumble, and his body ignored him with a sickening awareness and lucidity he had rarely known. "It's remarkably fast-acting, isn't it? I'm rather proud of it. As I mentioned, it's delivered in stages. You can't die from it, but I have little hope that an excess of these doses won't drive you irrevocably insane. I'd personally rather avoid that, but omletts and all that. Each stage becomes exponentially worse to the patient. I'm sorry to tell you that this was merely stage 2. As you can see..." Conidivh motioned to the small side table. Benedictus focused through his agony to see four neat rows of the vials. There had to be more than 30 of the evil devices. "...we've a long way to go yet. As for your tenure here, once again I've no reason to lie to you. You've been here exactly five days." Fresh sweat blossomed over the man's body as a thin veneer. "N-no...not po-possible... Someo-one would notice..." "Which leads to the aformentioned point I had neglected to discuss with you during your nap. You were taken, as an egg from the nest, during the night. What occurs now wasn't precisely ordered, no, but I assure you authority was given to reprimand you for the latest events." Conidivh paced to the head of the table and sat down on something out of Benedictus' view. He leaned forward so his gaze peered into the Archbishops's. "The trial of Kurohane did not end as you had hoped. You wished to excise and hold her up as example to the power of the church in the body politic of Stormwind. You failed. You then turned your attention to one she knew and one who had done the merest misdemeanor to your Church's law. Naturally, I laid hints here and there, but I was suprised that you picked them up. You wasted valuable time, effort, and resources to pursue the Priest Nouri. Your would make an example of someone, so secure in your absolute power were you. I do hope the phrase 'Necessary separation of Church and State' is not wasted on you at this time." Benedictus let forth a guttural sound, fighting down the sensation of his joints being pulled by taut ropes. "Som..someone...notice...guards.." Conidivh nodded. "I'm getting to that, your grace. You overstepped your balliwick, and checks and balances have come into play. You are merely one of the elements in a restructuring of the body politic of Stormwind. As for one noticing your absence, I am sure you are familiar with the unique device known as the orb of deception? It has it's uses, but it's hardly adapted to specific disguises. However, I'm pleased to say my constituents of the Mage order have solved that problem. The device is now quite capable of duplicating persons based solely on samples of their hair. Isn't that remarkable? Speech, form, physical habits. All miraculously duplicate by the use of it. In a sense, a true doppelganger." Rage fought with pain in the archbishop's mind. He roared and thrashed at his restraints. "LIES! You don't posess such an artifice, you spawn of the Legion itself!" Conidivh slowly stood and walked a few paces toward the staircase ascending up inot the Church proper. "You are correct. I personally do not. However, your replacement is making use of it. I do believe he's giving an oration to the younger initiates even as we speak." There was silence, save for some far off drip of groundwater striking the stone floor of the catacomb in irritating rythym. Suddenly, and surely growing with volume, came the pain-wracked sobs of the man strapped to the table. "What...what do you want from me?!" Conidivh turned to look at his captive audience. "Yes. The offer. You can either agree to fall in line with the new order of things for the good of the Alliance, or you will give your replacement permission to make himself at home in yoru stead. Additionally, you will give me permission to carry on with our unique relationship down here, and I will get to quietly bet on the number of vials it will take to drive you mad." Benedictus continued to sob and try the limits of the straps. Conidivh shrugged as if it were no consequence either way to him, speaking as he turned to climb the staircase. "You said I've neither the means nor the time required to break your will..." His voice floated down into the chamber as Benedictus watched the black hem of his robe whip out of sight. "...I assure you. I have an ample supply of both."
  9. Xelthan

    Servants

    To begin, darkness. The man was almost afraid to open his eyes. Pain. Unrivaled agony. In the blind dark, this was the first comforting sensation that allowed him the knowledge that he yet lived. The soothing information quickly lost it's quality, however, as the primal fear of greivous injury swept over him. He did not want to see what caused this agony. Disfigurement. Amputation. What was done to him to cause his mind to forecibly deal with such reckless suffering? No... he would not give in to fear. The Light ever was his shield and cloak. The man opened his eyes. He immediately wished he was blind again. Not a mark lay on his exposed flesh that he could see, beyond the red irritation of straps securing his wrists. Aside from being naked, the man noted that not a blemish or wound was evident to cause him this much discomfort. Yet the image the man latched on to; the all-consuming vision that he had hoped never to look upon again in this state, was the unemotional visage of the very man he held responsible for much of the kingdom's woes, though he could not prove it. He wanted to slam his eyeslids shut. He wanted to howl. "Welcome back to the waking world, your grace. I was hoping you'd be so punctual with your conciousness, as I have quite the schedule to keep," the face spoke in an even and unconcerned tone. The man raised his head a few inches off the table, fighting through the pain-induced image of every muscle and tendon in his neck fraying and snapping. "Wh-what is this... They told me you were DEAD!" "And they told me you were pious," the face chuckled. "I fear we both have made the textbook mistake of embracing assumption, my dear Benedictus." Benedictus choked back a snarl, taking the time instead to survey his surroundings. Damp stone walls. The sickly sweet stench of decay and old mortar mixed with crumbling wood in the stale air. The Catacombs. His heart skipped a beat in his chest; no one would hear this outrage occur so far below his own church! "So you noticed. Excellent. That will make the nature of our conversation all the more...pertinent." the face spoke. "The Light tear you assunder, Conidivh! This time you have gone too far. M-mark my wo-" "They are marked, catalogued, and for the most part, ignored. Archbishop, please pay close attention. This part is dire if not topical. The pain you are feeling now should be, even to the untrained mind, a clear indicator that something is very, very, wrong. If you insist on further proof on this matter, then please feel free to embrace the Light now to soothe your distress. I'll wait." Conidivh replied smoothly, stepping back and making a gesture with his hands as if inviting the Archbishop congenially for a drink. Benedictus sneered. He summoned the commensurate enrgies, the blessing of the Holy Power into his form. This trick was one of the first any passing into the order of the Priesthood was taught, abd memorized by rote. The energies flooded into his naked and now shivering form... ...and sluiced out just as quickly as water through a sieve. The agony remained. Benedictus let loose with an involuntary gasp as the Light passed through him and beyond as if he were the meanest spirit of the Nether. He turned his head towards Conidivh, fully pulling him into focus. Conidivh stood there, his hands folded in almost mock-prayer as his eyes surveyed the Archbishop like a mildly entertaining street-act. He was garbed in robes of rick black velvet festooned with intricate silver inlay and stitchwork. His hair - prematurely white for one his age - was immaculately combed. Conidivh stood there, observing, as if dressed for a formal dinner party in the Mage district. Conidivh met his gaze and nodded. "As you can see, or feel rather, Benedictus, I was not lying. At this juncture, I have no reason to lie to you. The truth, in this regard, is the ultimate spirit of inquisition." Benedictus bit his lip in reaction to a fresh wave of torment. His rasping breath took moments to calm while it passed. "In..inquisition?! Perposterous... You have no authority, Conidivh... Mathias Shaw himself struck you from record and-" An odd sensation distracted the archbishop. He had not seen Conidivh approach, nor his hand move, but it hovered above his body, fully open. It was the sudden feeling of two light strikes to his bare chest that drew the Archbishop's gaze. There, still glistening with the blood of it's owner, were a set of human ears. "This Shaw did not listen to the warnings, nor heed the spoken rules of his station. He'll not need what he never used, your grace." Benedictus' eyes widened of their own volition. "You..you murdered the head of SI:7?! You will h-hang for this, Conidivh!" But Conidivh had already moved away from the table, leaving his present for Benedictus where they lay. Conidivh idly flipped open a small notebook before turning his attention back to the man on the table. "Were he a unique thing, you might be right. That Shaw was not even the real Mathias Shaw, nor was his predecessor. The name is merely an office to facilitate a public face for an organization that is otherwise purposefully faceless. A figurehead. A recruiter. A glorified function of a larger whim. When one is killed or..." Conidivh made a small mocking bow toward Benedictus. "...in this case, oversteps himself by working with the church? We simply replace him with a suitable candidate. Looks are rarely an issue, as "Shaw" has few real subordinates. Those under him already know of the nature of their boss' precarious position, and act accordingly. It's quite simple, really." Benedictus clenched his jaw as a renewed attack on his senses wracked his frame. "GRAH! W-what then, do you mean to do with me, villain? I am not replaceable, and my absence WILL draw notice!" Conidivh did smile at this, a slight quirk of his lips. Benedictus wanted to howl.
  10. The dust settled shortly after the clatter of bones faded away. Xelthan sheathed his swords and sifted through the remains of the once reanimated foe for anything useful to the Argent Dawn. His tenure assigned to him by Ravenholdt demanded results on their contract with the Light-blessed order, and Xelthan's posting here in Andorhol had managed to give them just that; results. Xelthan stood and surveyed the ruined city, plotting which shadowed area to flit to next to strike down yet another mindless undead. The second slight clatter of bone was all the warning he had as he turned to investigate. He winced as the knife that was destined for his spine scored a deep gouge along his ribs. No time. All reflex. You or them. The mantra Xelthan lived and trained by repeated as a scream through his mind even as his empty hands lashed out to catch his attacker in the throat and the crook of the arm bearing the already waiting blade. His attacker's would-be battlecry trailed off into a gurgle spewing from a ruined windpipe only outmatched by the clatter of his dagger onto the cracked flagstones. Xelthan continued the fluid motion, stepping into his opponent while driving his elbow into the side of the assassin's head, knocking him flat to the ground. The attacker caught the glint of steel in his peripheral vision. His hand darted for the lost weapon as if it were forged steel salvation. His determination blinded him to the pacticed movement of Xelthan unstrapping his blunderbuss from his back and the gleam of dwarven metal craftsmanship as it swung low. Click. Suddenly, Xelthan had the man's full attention. The sharp crack of the rifle obliterated the first swelling bellow of the downed assailant, but not the following yowls of pain as he inspected the ruined stump that used to be his hand. Xelthan nodded and brought the weapon to bear over the man's heaving chest. "If the gunshot won't draw them, then your whimpering surely will. Some of the corpses here haven't had their own eyes in many years. They hunt by sound. Follow me?" Xelthan jerked his head to one side pointedly as low moans and shuffling could be heard behind some of the far-off buildings. "Nod or just pipe down if you understand me." The man nodded vigorously, stifling his cries with clenched teeth and force of will as he cradled his injury. Xelthan smiled and focused his attention back onto the would-be assailant. He ignored the warm trickle of blood running down inside his own tunic. Xelthan lowered his voice for his captive audience. "Good. Who sent you to put paid to me? You can choose not to answer, as I'm sure that tiny little inner voice is telling you, but I want you to take note of something else. Listen really close now. There's a larger voice there, and it's called your imagination. For instance, imagine me putting a slug into one of your knees. Oh, it won't kill you. However, I sincerely doubt you'd be able to hobble out to the ramparts of Andorhol let alone reach safety in Chillwind before every corpse still with a nose tracks you down. Or, imagine that I have my own sources to find out why you stupidly attacked me, and that I liberate your heart from your chest. Right here. Right now." For emphasis, Xelthan unsheathed one of his knives with an actor's flourish. The reflection of the dim sunlight off the blade made the other man squint as he nodded, collecting his breath to speak as best he could. "R-ravenholdt sent me. Yer Mistveil's on her way to trial..under guard. Stormwind. W...war crimes. Already on h-her way there, if I'm righ'. B..blackout order on ye... Rav-venholdt can't support you as an Op no more... Politics. So yer con-cont.." "Contract terminated, and so with it the operative. I get it," Xelthan finished for the man. "How did you know it was me. Specifically." "Black mask...c-certain armor. O-o-other elf in t-the area would be s-some bloke named Barke." Xelthan chuckled to himself. Ravenholdt prided itself on a tenure of secrecy so absolute, that many of it's member's faces had never actually been seen. Xelthan had made sure to be one of the "shy ones" in that respect. Not an issue. He had once faked his friend's murder to help the lad out of a tight spot with the Bloodsails. So, reasonably, faking his own would prove no trouble if it came to that. "I want you to pass on a message to your superiors from me. Can you do that?" Xelthan said. "An-anything mate...just make it f-fast before the dead come down o-on both o' us..." Xelthan nodded absently to the gryphon master as he was handed the reigns of the animal that would take him on to Menethil. It was far too dangerous to fly on straight to stormwind considering this latest development. He set his eyes on the horizon and went over his plan of action in his mind as the great beast strained it's wings to gain altitude. In the still of Andorhol, a clatter of bones announced the arrival of a curious onlooker. The skeleton was curious only for a moment before fel instinct took over and it began shuffling with measured steps toward a fresh body. It could care less about the black mask covering the gaping gunshot wound in the chest. Food was food. As far as Ravenholdt was concerned, an operative's silence was often the most detailed message.
  11. Yeah, I got hit with totems, nailed once by a pet - and didn't do a thing against the purpetrators. Let's face it, a lot of us are going out of our way to come OOC-ly both Horde and Alliance side to make these shindigs possible. Regardless of apologies, the parties really are horde-centric as far as attendance, and considering what happened with Kuro at one and now this, well... I'm not pointing fingers, not assigning blame. But it's too little too late for me. I'd love to come to another someday, but until some basic lines of respect and/or rules can be agreed upon with locations and behaviour, I'll have to bow out. Yeah - boo hoo Alliance can't take it. Honestly though, if the situations were reveresed, I know some others would feel the exact same way for being attacked and not being able to do a damn thing about it because you're outnumbered and NOT 60 If I wanted PvP, I'd come fully armed. I'd die...a lot... but I'd still come armed
  12. ((This is Conidivh's player on my hawtness account Ok, I've got to sidebar here since this is something agreed upon by Lovely's player and myself: the only cure for the anedote - it's not a poison, it's makeup isn't that of a pathogen or poison - is Conidivh's blood. Lovely will get cured, but I'd really like to keep at least one part of the storyline intact. Sorry for that, i should have said this earlier. Interference and plotting is awesome, but I'm going to have to ask for a little elbow room on this to have it play out as intended. Thanks.))
  13. Swordwaltzers has officially opened Recruitment! If you are looking for an RP guild and are interested in aiding the defense of Alliance territories, then we're looking to add you to our growing ranks. Here's some information on the guild and what we're currently looking for: What we're about/offer: -Heavy RP guild with optional in-character chat channel separate from Guild chat. -Our current focus is PvP, defense of towns, patrols, and aiding War Council activities/events. We also plan to continue our "BG week" events with members of a certain bracket. -Planned RP events with other guilds, as well as "in house" events for guildmembers. -Guildbank stocking items and gear for use by our members, as well as crafting regeants to aid skill levels. What we're looking for: -Players with mains or alts of level 10 or higher. -Players aged 18+ - we deal with some adult content in the storylines, so no minors please. -Mature roleplayers who want to participate in a multitude of storylines and lore-driven roleplay. -All classes welcome. If you are interested or feel that Swordwaltzers is worth further investigation, then feel free to visit http://www.xerjester.com for more info on our Forums, and to fill out the application for your character.