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10.2.7
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The War of Crowns (Open RP)
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Post by
Levarus
Daedrin Plaguetomb
Amberpine Lodge, Grizzly Hills
Crows feasted on dead alliance nearby, but they were shoo'd off. The organs were theirs. As human corpses were loaded and sent back to Vorth'renal for the construction of the abomination project led by Glunn the Reanimator, Daedrin took a well-earned smile. Victory was his. "Well! Don't just stand around there! Keep spreading the plague!" he yelled at the catapult-riders, as they quickly continued their fast spread of the plague.
"Casualty Report, sire." came a skeletal emmisary.
"Oh yes." said Daedrin. "That."
"Nearly a thousand of our Worgen lay dead and 2,000 Vyrkul slaughtered. That's about half of the combined forces. We also have 500 wounded and injured."
Damnit...
thought Daedrin regretfully, yearning to weave back in time and redo the battle. "Well send the dead Vyrkul back to old Vorth'renal to raise as Vargul. Where are all the Valkyrs Bo gained from the Hyldnir?"
"Aerkis kept them at Vorth'renal sire."
Damnit damnit damnit...
"Many alliance forces also managed to retreat."
"Okay." send Daedrin, taking a quick scan around him. "I'm not made for leading battles. I'm made for researching the plague and stuff! Why did Aerkis have to give me such a task?"
The corpse-counter looked at him and shrugged. "Get out of my sight. Your face is annoying." said Daedrin, turning to look at his catapults fling the plague into the wild heart of the woods.
And I have the Horde to deal with...
he winced at the thought.
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character
: Saravet Runerunner, Tyrin
Location
: Howling Fjord
Tyrin crossed his arms before his chest and looked down on the death knight.
"I have no need of explaining myself to incompetent vermin like you."
Character
: Grimmalt
Location
: Howling Fjord
"Oh damn. The prophet will be displeased about this..." The ascendant groaned to himself as the portal vanished. Turning about, he quickly ran back towards Utgarde with all haste.
Character
: Drakkus Danovich
Location
: Drak'Tharon
Drak'Tharon was truly a sight to behold, particularly from above. The tall, monolithic structure with countless carvings and edifices declaring the old Drakkari empire composed the structure, rather than were carved upon it. It gave the whole thing a sort of imposing beauty rivaled only by its the majesty of Gundrak herself.
The balcony where the mighty Trollgore had stood guard was now empty, save for a few spiders which skittered about, reclaiming the temple as insects tend to do to the abandoned and derelict. One of these intrepid critters crunched noisily as Drakkis dismounted from his drake, stepping foot within the silent halls for the first time since the Scourge held it.
"Soon to be once more," he echoed with a fleshless grin. There was a rattling from behind him as the gargoyles deposited the bags, all manner of bones, weapons, armour and chains rolling from the sacks.
Drakkis turned to them, nodding to the Vrykul and their drakes still circling outside. "Wait outside until I summon you. I have business within." The giants nodded and whirled away, leaving Drakkis to turn to the piles of bones. Raising his robed and rail thin arms, the undead began to chant, foul green and purple magics embracing him and the bones upon which he cast.
Post by
Morec0
Character:
Lord Morec - House of Rivendare
, Siffly Darkhand, Demens Company
Location: Blood Port, Southern Howling Fjord
"Such poor manners," Morec tsk'd and shook his head as he finished the climb up the ramp onto the ship. "Oh well. My headquarters are below deck, you will be staying there for the duration of our alliance. If you would follow me." Morec descended into the hull.
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character
: Saravet Runerunner, Tyrin
Location
: Howling Fjord
Tyrin simply sneered, a look he grudgingly abandoned in favour of a scowl when Saravet glared at him. With quick strides the two and their detail of six followed the death knight, Tyrin glancing about suspiciously all the while.
Post by
Morec0
Character:
Lord Morec - House of Rivendare
, Siffly Darkhand, Demens Company
Location: Blood Port, Southern Howling Fjord
Morec led the way down into the hull, which was lightly furnished with items that should have been in the captain quarters. Siffly and the rest of the group had left them a while back, leaving Morec alone with his guests. "I moved everything down here some time ago," Morec said. "I prefer to be in a less obvious local. Now, I need only prepare myself for the battle ahead, and since time is of the essence..."
He opened a chest, frowned, and then looked at Saravet. "Miss Runerunner, if I will require a little bit of your blood to finish my preperations. My own supplies are, sadly, less than I had thought they were." He stood and turned, setting a large vial of blood on a desk as he did and holding out a cerimonial dagger towards Runerunner. "Just a little less than a pint will do."
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character
: Saravet Runerunner, Tyrin
Location
: Howling Fjord
"What madness-! No!" Saravet instantly protested, taking a step back and leveling her staff threateningly at the death knight, the gem on the tip glowing ominously. Tyrin immediately reached for his harpoon with a furious and warning growl at the undead.
Post by
Morec0
Character:
Lord Morec - House of Rivendare
, Siffly Darkhand, Demens Company
Location: Blood Port, Southern Howling Fjord
"Really? No help from living allies?" Morec frowned, apparently unphased by his allies motion of hostility. "Hmmm, very well. I can make do." He turned towards the stairs. "MASK!" he yelled.
A masked man weilding a katana slowly walked down the stairs. "Yes, Lord Rivendare?" he asked, seemingly oblivious to their guests.
"Good, you're here." He motioned to the jar. "I require a quick donation from you."
The masked man nodded and walked over to the jar, taking the dagger from Morec, and slit his own palm. He let several seconds pass of blood falling from his palm and down into the bottle before sealing the wound with a bandage. "Will that be all, Lord Rivendare?"
Morec nodded and Mask stepped back as the death knight cast another spell. The blood levetated out of the bottle and onto the floor, ceiling and walls of the hull. It melted away the wood in the shape of intriquit rune patterns, ones that repeated over and over with only minute variations. The last of the blood tarnished a peice of scroll Morec pulled out of a chest, also forming a rune. Before anyone could get a good look at it he stashed it in the chest of his armor. "There we are, now we can begin..."
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character
: Saravet Runerunner, Tyrin
Location
: Howling Fjord
"Begin what, exactly?" Saravet asked, more suspicious than ever. She had recognized some of the runes that had gone on the walls.
Post by
Morec0
Character:
Lord Morec - House of Rivendare
, Siffly Darkhand, Demens Company
Location: Blood Port, Southern Howling Fjord
Morec smiled. "Fright!"
A trio of vials filled with yellow liquid were thrown down the stairs and shattered upon impact with the floor. The vaporized immeidately, filling the hull with a yellow fog of fear gas that surrounded everyone within it. The gas brought out the greatest fears of the living vrykul, manifesting them around them and altering the very reality they thought they were in. The went doubily for the sentient beings in the room, each one becoming a horrifying mix of themselves and whatever the victim of the gas' worst nightmare was.
Being undead, of course, Morec was immune - as was the masked man, for some odd reason.
A trio of shapes also descended the stairs, most likely undead as they also seemed unaffected by the fog.
"Tell me," Morec said to Savaret and all her fellow vrykul, anything more than his outline hidden by the thick mist. "Why serve another power when you can be your own master? You're own leader. A force of destruction who's only need is their desire. Why bow to the wills of another when everything you ever wanted can be obtained so much quicker by simply taking it and killing everyone that stands in your way."
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character
: Saravet Runerunner, Tyrin
Location
: Howling Fjord
Saravet screamed in shock and fear at the fog, the gem atop her stave firing a blast of fire from its tip towards Morec's image before the mist managed to claim her.
The other Vrykul immediately drew their weapons with bellows terror and bloodthirst, slashing at the air indiscriminately and at images only they could see.
"Treacherous dog!" Tyrin bellowed, flinging his harpoon at the masked man with the force of a firing ballista, even as he drew a wickedly jagged sword from his side. "I will flay your flesh and use it as a banner!" He roared, a chill descending around him, the wood of the deck crackling from a sudden onset of frost.
Post by
Levarus
Garthern Ebonwrought
Drak'tharon Keep
Hearing a noise behind him, Garthern reeled to face another Scourge looking man. "Did Aerkis send you?" questioned Garthern, a crimson radiance petruding from his eyes. "Because if he did, your welcome to follow. Heh, learn a trick or two from the masters."
Post by
Morec0
Character:
Lord Morec - House of Rivendare
, Siffly Darkhand, Demens Company
Location: Blood Port, Southern Howling Fjord
Morec calmly walked forward, taking the fireball full-on in the chest. A combonation of this armor's own durability and a weakening of the flames with frost magic provided all the ressistance against it he needed to take next to zero damage. The masked man dodged to the side to avoid the harpoon, which shattered as it hit the wall of ship's hull. The masked man then drew his katana and vanished in the concealing fog. A moment later Tyrin suffered a slash to his left leg, but the masked man had already vanished.
"Look at yourself, Lady Sataria," Morec said, his voice altered by the fog into something far more menacing than it had previously been. "You kneel before me because of fear, but we both know I am not the source of that fear. I am not what you fear most." He grabbed her face in his hands, pulling it up and putitng his mere inches away from hers. "So what is it, Lady Runrunner? What do you see that you fear? What do you see that you are powerless against?"
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character
: Saravet Runerunner, Tyrin
Location
: Howling Fjord
Saravet whimpered, her lips twitching in fear as she struggled to say something. Her hands gripped her stave until the knuckles went white while the red stone atop it filled the air with a bloody light.
A roar sounded from her side and Tyrin barreled through the fog, slamming shoulder first into Morec like a herd of shoveltusk.
Post by
Morec0
Character:
Lord Morec - House of Rivendare
, Siffly Darkhand, Demens Company
Location: Blood Port, Southern Howling Fjord
Morec laughed at Tyrin struck him and blasted the vrykul with a wave of necromantic magic designed to rot him from the inside out - starting with the bones that held his form in shape. Before Tyrin could slam the death knight against the hull of the ship, though, he was pulled to a halt by over a dozen dark voodoo shades with incredible unholy strength.
"Joo not gonna be faren too well against, mon," Fal'uci said as the troll conjured the spirits.
Morec dropped to the ground and pulled Armageddon from it's sheath. "You're lack of manners is beginning to IRRITATE ME!" he said, ending his sentence with a yell as he stabbed Tyrin through the chest with the runeblade.
Fright's scythe bit into the spine of a lesser armored vrykul while the masked swordsman's blade cut at the exposed through of another. The only figured yet to make a move was Ras, clearly waiting for something.
Post by
Levarus
Katuik the Warrior
Kamagua, Howling Fjord
The situation: Katuik's scouts have reported enemies amassing on the Tuskar borders, and his plea for allies has been answered.
Tradition had it that Warriors would pray to the spirits for strength and cunning for an upcoming battle. So that's what Katuik had the village do. His scout was terrified, constantly exclaiming over the fleet heading up the coast to their village. Blue facepaint shaped in a blue-hand was etched across Katuik's forehead, he was dressed in battle-garb, his long spear named
Icepoint
by his forgotten elders clenched in his hand. At his side was his magical net gleaming with arcane energies, an enchantment that a wandering sorceror had used to repay for the Tuskar's kindness during his visit.
Ritual incense perfumed the air as allies from Borean Tundra and Dragonblight rode turtles - both big and small into the Kamagua harbor.
Long have I done what's right...
silently prayed Katuik, bowing with his leather wrapped hands pushing his weight on his spear which stood erect at the foot of a spirit-statue, one of the few which resided in Kamagua.
Or atleast I think I have.
All I ask for is the strength to guide my people, we are most likely outnumbered, but Gvaldic the Spirit Sage had killed a near one hundred Kvaldir before dying during the times of olde, spilling his white blood so pure into the seas which he came from. Well let me repeat his legend, and kill that blasted traitor.
He thought of the Death Knight Morec. A rage filled him. Katuik took the spear up and faced his people, all of whom were masked with fear.
"Tonight!" roared Katuik, glancing at Wak'luk who stood within the crowd of Katuik's people and those from Moa'bi and Unu'pe. "The spirits with their ardent might shall fly from their divine heavens! The ancestors have answered our call! I can feel the power of a thousand course through me! I can feel the coming tide slowly creeping it's black descent toward us! But we shall not falter! They are the ones who should be scared! They are leaving their families behind, their homes, what do they have to fight for? Some haughty lord's golden enriched pockets? What do we have to fight for?" he yelled.
When no response came save a few mumbles Katuik answered the silence with a deafening roar. "WE. HAVE. HONOR!" he yelled, raising
Icepoint
in the air to behold an inspired crowd cheer and roar.
Yes
... thought Katuik.
I am no longer Katuik
. He thought.
I am Katuik the Warrior.
Post by
Adamsm
Mathias Straz
Gun'drak Zul'Drak
Mathias sighed as he stretched and walked the temple, watching as his servants and cultists worked to repair and fortify the building. He nodded at those who saluted him and stepped up to the top of the temple and looked down. The land stretched out before him, and he absently tapped his flesh and blood hand against his Saronite one.
At his side, a pair of shadows rose up and crouched near him, looking up at him from under thick heavy cloaks. "Ah, my dear dogs; what news do you bring me?" He asked, looking down at them. One of the creatures made a low hissing sound and Mathias narrowed his eyes slightly. "Drak'Theron?" He asked and the other nodded.
"Well, since they have everything here; we should investigate." Mathias said and gave a low piercing whistle. There was a buzzing sound, and a massive insectoid creature landed on top of the temple; it made a low coo sound as Mathias scratched it behind it's eyes and climbed onto it's back. "Up Fred." He said, and the silithid wasp launched itself skywards as the shadow servants vanished back into darkness, following their master.
Post by
oneforthemoney
Character
: Saravet Runerunner, Tyrin
Location
: Howling Fjord
Tyrin twisted aside roaring in pain as the blade slammed into his side, but not his chest. In those moments when one sees deaths beckoning hand, the limitations of mortality may be banished, for those seconds that remain between the planes. Tyrin used those momens, forcing his arms forward, dragging the shades with him like shreds of shadowy cloth as he grabbed Morec in a crushing bear hug "Die!" He spat through bloody lips, shoving his sword into the death knight as he did so.
Saravet sobbed, her hand clenching against the wood of her staff even as the light of the red gem continued to shine on her. The chill that followed Tyrin had banished the fog momentarily, leaving her mind freed for the moment. With desperate motions, she scrawled something on the floor of the vessel.
Character
: Drakkus Danovich
Location
: Drak'Tharon
Drakkus tapped his bony fingers together, the only sign of his anxiousness, while looking into thin air. The reconstructed skeletons moved with typical efficiency of their undead kind as they worked to strip the Temple of the Forgotten. A quartet of stone columns were hefted between several undead, carrying them back towards the Warriors terrace soundlessly for pick up.
Drakkus growled, a low sound from the back of his non-existent throat.
"How aggravating," he murmured.
Post by
Adamsm
Mathias Straz
Zul'Drak
Mathias stared down at the passing landscape as Fred the Wasp flew swiftly towards the rotting Keep. "Wonder who is moving on the edge of the lands." He murmured, absently rotating his mechanical wrist.
Post by
Morec0
Character:
Lord Morec - House of Rivendare
, Siffly Darkhand, Demens Company
Location: Blood Port, Southern Howling Fjord
Saravet's hand became ignited with fel fire that burned to her very bones. Ras stood silently where he had been, channeling the spell of fire that slowly spread over the vrykul woman. Meanwhile the swordsman moved in to finish her off after putting down another two of her allies. Fright grabbed more vials of the yellow liquid and tossed them to the ground around Saravet, letting them shatter and fill the air again with the fear gas.
More of Fal'uci's shades ammassed around Tyrin, pulling at his arms to free the death knight. Meanwhile, Morec used two spells; one to drain the necromantic magic the fueled of Tyrin to keep himself powerful, the other to constantly rot away his bone and muscles to leave him weaker and weaker. In short; it was a cycle of using the vrykul's own strength to kill him.
Post by
Atik
Sataira Hopewell
Sunstrider Isle
The guard house was quiet, only a couple blood elves patrolling the grounds. Sataira stepped over their bodies, glancing at the fallen men. "Pathetic... guards were never so weak in my time." She stated, heading out behind the building and towards the strange cemetary behind it.
It was where guards would bury Hawkstriders that had served them well. Sataira knew the one she was looking for.
The death knight raised her hand, purple magics flowing forth and into the ground. "Rise, Talon." She commanded, pumping necromantic magics into the buried mount.
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