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 Posted: Thu May 29, 2008 3:00 am
If you wish to participate:
-Make a profile
-PM me
-I will give your profile the go-ahead, and then YOU WILL WAIT FOR ME TO INTRODUCE YOU. :3
-Those who made a profile before the RP started don't need an introduction, they got one in the OP.
-RP NAO.
Stars twinkle in the sky, a city is lit by the reflective light of what is now known as Outland. The great city, hot and arid like the surrounding desert in the day, is surprisingly cold at night. Orgrimmar sleeps. A breeze rustles the palm fronds in the Valley of Spirit. The biggest structure in the city lays in it's centre; the Warchief's chambers. Inside, vigilant guards at his door in and outside the room, the Horde's mightly leader rests his weary body.
His dreams are troubled.
A being calls to him. Her skin is tanned, her eyes a piercing yet gentle bright green. Her hair a fiery red, the colour of blood. Long elven ears arch gracefully past her head, unpierced and unmarred by battle. She does not speak.
The shaman Warchief appears suddenly at a lakeside, the being at his side. The trees are tall and magnificent, the grass a vibrant green and the water shines a surprising shade of blue. There are whispers in the air, but he cannot make out what they say.
Suddenly, everything is black. Thrall cries out, but the red-haired entity is nowhere to be found. He is falling in the pitch black. He cries out again, but there is silence. Nothing but silence and darkness...then a brush past his arm, and his fall comes quite suddenly to a halt. The warchief floats helplessly in midair. A sense of power emanates from everywhere, an ancient, unfathomable power. Something serpentine in nature wraps around his ankle, dragging him down.
"WARCHIEF!" A gruff voice roars, as an armoured orc shakes Thrall to wake him. The Warchief convulses on his pallet, sweat rolling down in rivets on his body, his face contorted in pain. A troll with a spear looks on with worry.
"It not be workin...YOU! Run and get da shamans!" he yells, gesturing wildly at an onlooking orc.
An old, wizened tauren, his mane and beard white as snow and his fur ash-grey, wrings the water out of a cloth over a shallow wooden bowl. He kneels down beside the Warchief's pallet, applying the cold fabric to Thrall's forehead.
A lightly armoured troll enters the room, his face and body daubed in red ochre. He walks to the Warchief's bedside, visage wrinkled with concern.
"He been like dis for tree days...you tinkin' he gonna be aright?"
The tauren snorts gently, regarding the aging orc. "Soon, Jin'zu."
The troll gives a sigh. "Aright, well, Stormwin' sent us a letta. Sayin here dat de Lady Jaina be in da same boat, she been sleepin fer tree days now too, jus like de Warchief. Roda be tinkin dey somehow connected?"
The aged tauren nods. "I do. They are closely intertwined in the spirit, such a likeness in illness is not common for those with spirit bonds. Now, I have work to do. Is there anything else you wanted, Jin'zu?"
"Ya, mon. We be gettin a visitor. She be waitin outside...I didn' wanna let er in to see da Warchief when e's like dis, but she be seemin to tink she know betta. Also, she be havin da Dragonqueen's emblem. But, ole Jin'zu is just a messenga boy. Tot I should be leavin it up to you."
The tauren smirks in amusement, giving a small chuckle. "Its fine, let her in."
Moments later, an elf, eyes glowing blue and hair the deepest of crimsons walks into the room, eyeing the Warchief intently. She stalks slowly up to the side of the bed, giving Roda absolutely no mind. The tauren, a small smile on his toughened, wrinkled face, gets up and takes a step back. Muttering something almost musically, the elf gently places a palm on the orc's moist forehead, brushing away the cloth. With a soft puff of air from the elf's lips, Thrall's strikingly blue eyes blink open.
The room is hazy, a migraine thumps violently in his head. He struggles to sit up, but succeeds only in squirming ungracefully to lay on his side. He looks weakly up at Roda, muscles fighting just to keep him propped up.
"Gather...the best warriors" he gasps, fighting with all his strength to stay concious, "...bring...them....to me...urge-"
Body finally giving out, Thrall vomits on the floor and passes out again.
Two days later, a messenger on a wyvern appears at your location and hands you a scroll.
The scroll is a short, pointed message, with very simple directions.
You are ordered, as sanctioned elite warriors of the Horde and Alliance, to go to Silvermoon, and wait at the Wayfarer's Rest Inn. Further instructions will be given on the first of June at dawnbreak.
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Posted: Thu May 29, 2008 4:11 pm
Ravox needed a break. He was finally beginning to enjoy himself at a tabard he found when the letter came. Ravox's eyes widened as he thought to himself, this must be bad... Thrall wants me at some major town of ours? A new discovery?... I must know! Ravox left the bar quite elegantly for having so much ale. Ravox wondered whether it was a right idea to go or not, knowing that'd he go whether it was the smart idea or not. Ravox needed not to be seen, to be feared he'd expiriment and mess something up, so he wore a hooded cloak, and robes he had found off of a drunk Draenei over his leather gear that Biz had made him so very long ago. The very second Ravox considered himself ready, he was transformed into a Ghost Wolf and dashed off towars Grom'gol. Maybe I'll study the arcane elementals... Or whatever they are...
Grom'Gol, to the Undercity, to... That portal. Simple. Ravox thought, as he continued. I was lucky to have found a goblin town with decent ale, too bad I'm about as far as away from Silvermoon as I could possibly be... It's probably urgent, so I'll need to deal with anything that would slow me down quickly and continue. But... I must wonder, why would Thrall call me now? I doubt it even involves me, I was probably on a list of able bodied Orcs, and someone made the mistake not to take my name out... After all, why would they want me?
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Posted: Fri May 30, 2008 7:45 pm
The ring of hammer on steel echoed through the cavernous Great Forge of the dwarven capital, as sparks flew from the clashing metal. The forge-fire's light shone redly on the smith's sweat-soaked skin, and illuminated the faces of the surrounding watchers, glinting from their squinting eyes -- mostly dwarves, but a few human smiths from Stormwind and even a curious orc who had traveled all the way from Orgrimmar. Flipping the rough blade over on the smouldering anvil, the stocky dwarf struck again, shaping the stock metal to his will. With no need to reheat the sword between strikes, the smith could focus simply on the act of smithing, acting without distraction or pause. Replacing the simple round hammer on its hook near the anvil, he instead selected a flat-headed hammer and a thick chisel, and began carving a blood-groove down the center of the blade. Dropping the finished base sword into the olive-oil quenching barrel set by the anvil for that purpose. Turning to his audience, the smith wiped his brow with a grimy cloth from his pocket. "And that's how you start a proper sword - you finish on the grinding wheel, but any craftsman can do that."
As he was stripping off the heavy leather apron, a well-dressed human approached him. "Are you Helkast Grimforge?" The smith nodded, pulling a fine wool shirt on, concealing the intricate runic designs burned into his flesh. "Aye, that's me. You got somethin' I need to see?" The man smiled unctiously, proferring a thin envelope. Slitting the envelope open with a small belt knife, Helkast withdrew the calligraphed note within. He muttered under his breath as he read. "To all elite warriors of the Horde and Alliance - hrm, it's a form letter - blah-de-blah courtesies, Silvermoon? Interesting... Well, I've always wanted to visit, they've got some very interesting smithing methods there... And I DID ask to let me know if they needed help with anything." Lifting the great maul from its resting place by the anvil, he caressed the glinting ruby inset in the head, then slung it onto his shoulder. Tossing a few silver to the messenger, he headed off to pack for the journey.
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Posted: Sat May 31, 2008 3:43 am
An uneasy silence was strewn through the air, the hazy green clouds of the plaguelands making visibility also quite poor. The young man skulking through the underbrush didn't mind it, though. Dead leaves brushed past his face as he slowly closed on his prey, a bird as black as the night that had obviously been infected with the plague. It was already seeing some signs of decomposition, yet still it squawked mindlessly, sitting on a branch someways up. Slowly, steadily he readied his bow, knocking an arrow to it and prepared to fire, just as he had always practiced. Three, two.... Thwip!
The man's eyes were wide, his mouth agape, but no sound came out. An obsidian arrow lodged itself in his neck that hadn't been there only a moment earlier. A crimson liquid the same color as his attire slowly leaked out from the wound around the arrow as he fell forward to the ground producing a hushed thud. A dark shape clamped hold and dragged him further into the brush, concealing the corpse. "Filthy Scarlets. Take aim at my bird, will ya?" A boot rushed forward and kicked the body in the stomach, a sickening girgle could be heard from within.
The raven, no longer content to sit upon it's perch, jumped into the air taking flight with a caw. The shadowy figure, obviously recognizing some sound or movement, hid back in the shadows, pressing it's form up against one of the diseased trees, hiding itself in a large cloak. A forsaken mage riding on the back of a dusk bat flew into view, landing nearby. It's unnatural voice boomed with surprising tone. "Show yourself; I know you are here!" It's head peered around the forest, searching. "Do not waste my time."
"...Well, if her majesty's high and mighty isn't but an errand boy!" Mallix stepped from her hiding place in the shadows, scoffing at the mage. "I am here. What is your business?" Wasting no time, the robed creature produced a letter from his sleeve, looking aged and torn. "You are to report to Silvermoon at once. Sylvanas' orders." The mage half-bowed in a mocking gesture before disappearing in a flash of magic. Mallix read over the letter, deciding her plan of action. "Aye, to Silvermoon it is, then... Oh, how long it has been." A malicious grin broke across her face, marring the peace on her fair, albeit dead skin. She whistled and waved an arm in the air. "Come along, Krix! We're going home."
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Void Dragoon Vice Captain
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Posted: Sat May 31, 2008 6:48 am
It was a hot, bright afternoon in Tanaris, although the Caverns of Time were not touched by the heat of the outside world. Within the Caverns, a young draenei was talking to the dragons, seeking to learn whatever she could of the powers of the Bronze Dragonflight. As she turned away with a sigh, hopelessly confused about the explanations of the different timeways, though certain she was very close to a breakthrough, a messenger walked up to her. She took the letter. "If this is another request that I return home because I'm too young to leave...." she began, but the messenger was already shaking his head. "It isn't from the Exodar. Read it, then destroy it," he said as he vanished.
Now curious, she opened the letter and read. "I'm summoned.... to Silvermoon? But I don't even know where Silvermoon is......... I think it's somewhere in the northern Eastern Kingdoms.........." she sighed, and tossed the letter in the air. Flames engulfed the parchment, until not even ashes remained. "Oh, well.... I'd better start looking then... Goodbye, and I will return some day to continue learning!" she called to her dragon friends, and set out to find Silvermoon.
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Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2008 1:12 am
((OOC: Aright, since Max is a giant f*****t, I'm time-warping you all to the Silvermoon inn without him.
Also, I had this awesome post, it was long and descriptive and full of foreshadowing, and then ******** ******** crashed and I lost the entire damn post. So ********, you get the short and sweet version. ******** you, Karma.
Void, your intro was awesome. If we were doing a system with exp gains, you would have gotten extra.))
The journey was long and uneventful, and now you're waiting in the Silvermoon City Inn known as the Wayfarer's Rest Tavern.
The bar is colourful and gaudy, which is fairly commonplace among blood elves. This is nothing new. Its noisy, but not necessarily loud. The room buzzes with conversation. The Silvermoon Guards are renowned for being especially harsh when it comes to rambunctious bar patrons, so drunks for the most part keep to rowdier bars such as the ones in Ratchet and Thunder Bluff. The bar crowd this afternoon isn't bad for a weekday. There are a few young, shapely blood elf ladies enjoying a cocktail at a table near the door, a tauren and an orc are having a heated discussion regarding trade routes in the back, but otherwise it looks pretty commonplace. A cat brushes briefly past your ankle- they seem to be everywhere in Silvermoon.
You've been waiting from anywhere between fifteen minutes and six hours. The summons you recieved clearly stated instructions would be given at dawnbreak, but when you arrived, no one else was there.
The waitress is making the rounds, and as she brushes past you (she smells slightly like vanilla, mostly like wine), a note falls into your lap. The folded paper is small, unobtrusive.
Written on the scrap in neat, stylized cursive is a single sentence.
Go up the stairs and into the third room on the right.
When you look up, you can clearly see a winding set of stairs leading to the second floor of the Inn to the left of the bar.
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Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2008 7:03 pm
Helkast sighed, leaning back in the tall ornate chair. He tugged at his shirt collar, feeling uncomfortable in his dress outfit - give him heavy plate over a tailored suit any day. Taking another look around the tavern, he drained his tankard, setting it beside several others. The ale was good, if a bit weaker than what he was used to, and was spiced with something he didn't quite recognize. Waiting for the barmaid to make the rounds back to his table, Helkast idly spun a gold piece on the table. The sun had crested the city walls several hours ago, but there was no sign of his contact. Leaving the spinning coin out to pay for his drinks, he withdrew the carefully folded parchment note that had brought him here from an inner pocket of his coat, checking to make sure he hadn't mistaken the date or something. No, this was correct... He smiled at the waitress as she replaced his ale and ran her eye over the growing stack of empty mugs in front of him. It was only after he'd taken a long pull of the fresh tankard that he noticed the paper scrap she'd left behind. Curious, he stood up and streched, sliding the note unobtrusively into his pocket as he headed off in search of the privy.
Feeling much relieved, Helkast returned to his seat, and took another drink before examining his message. 'Up the stairs, third room on the right'? Ah, must be directions to a more private rendevouz, at last. He glanced around the room, trying to see if anyone else had recieved a similar note, but saw nothing. Either he was the only one to be met here, or the others were also taking precautions against being seen. he shifted slightly in his chair, tilted his head back, and sucked down the remaining half-tankard of ale. Pushing his chair back from the table, he slung his heavy pack onto his shoulder, and headed up the only stairs he could see.
The stairs opened up into a hallway - private rooms, Helkast assumed, for weary travelers to rent for a day or two. He made his way to the third door on the right, as directed by the note, noticing nothing different about it than the other doors on the floor. He raised his hand to knock, then shot furtive glances both ways down the hall. Seeing no-one watching, he rapped smartly on the door. After no immediate response, he tried the handle. Finding it unlocked, he pushed it open and stepped inside.
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Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2008 8:43 pm
Ravox spent his time getting to Silvermoon city, occasionally deciding to visit a tavern. It was quite obvious that he was becoming a drunk very quickly, despite the fact that the Undead Priest did help guide him through his problem, it wasn't quite gone. At about 15 minutes earlier than nessacery, Ravox arrived at the tavern. He was hungover, it was obvious. He ordered nothing more than water, and burried his head inbetween his hands. Agh, why is this place so bright?! And why is it so... ugh... I'm tired, I came, can I go home yet? I'm thirsty... Why am I here? Ravox lazily pulled the note out of the robes he had stolen earlier, and read it lazily. Whatever Thrall wants it can wait a day ehh?
Wait, what of my honor?... What of it? I don't even have a proper surname, I know peons that have surnames! I can't return to Orgrimmar, why should I care about honor? What has Thrall done for ME? I may as well had ordered ale, called myself a drunk and left. But ehh... What of the children I may have?... They deserve better... I don't know, this is stupid, why am I thinking about this? I'm hungover, my judgement is clouded, I should take the saferoute and stay here. As Ravox was about to check the time, he noticed the note. Well, well, well, barmaids got it for me, eh? Ravox eagerly picked up the note after eyeing the barmaid, and sighed. Not exactly...
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Posted: Sat Jun 07, 2008 4:28 pm
The relative serenity of Silvermoon City was suddenly shattered as a magical portal opened itself in midair, spewing forth a corona of purple light. Out of this rent in the fabric of reality came striding a human, dressed in the garb of a mage. His face bore the look of youth, but an air of age hung about him, a sense that all was not exactly as it seemed. He took two confident strides, bearing him out of the portal, and suddenly realized that his ley-line calculations must have been off a point or two. Tumbling down ungracefully, he landed painfully on the cobblestone sidewalk, cursing and spluttering as he fell. A few puzzled city guards came over to peer at this curiosity that had appeared from thin air, and the mage shooed them away as he stood up. "Bloody worthless assistant..." He mumbled, brushing folds from his robe and straightening his mantle. After he finished adjusting his garments, he whipped out the note in his pocket. 'Wayfarer's Rest Inn... first of June...' He thought, then pocketed the note with a final, muttered "So what if I'm half an hour late?"
No one at all noticed him as he walked into the Inn, except for a nigh-imperceptible glance from the barmaid. Walking to the bar and ordering a mug of ale, he glanced around the Inn for any unusual patrons. He caught a fleeting glimpse of a well-attired dwarf in the process of climbing the last few steps up to the second story, and there was an orc sitting at one of the tables. 'Interesting...' He thought, then was startled out of his reverie by the barmaid. "What's your name, sir?" She held a slip of paper, which looked to be a list. "Vallon." He replied, and, apparently satisfied, the barmaid left. It was then that he noticed that there was a note in his pocket. 'Now how did that get there?' He reached down and extracted the note just as his ale was delivered. Flipping the innkeeper a gold coin, he hefted the mug and sat down at a nearby table. Taking a satisfying drink from the mug, he held the note up for scrutiny and began to read. 'Ahhh...' He thought with satisfaction. 'Things are finally starting to get interesting.' He stood up, drained the last of his ale, and headed for the stairs.
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Posted: Mon Jun 09, 2008 8:43 am
Layn walked into the inn curiously, never having seen an inn in the Blood Elf lands before. She sat at a table and sighed. "I'm finally here, but.... there doesn't seem to be anyone else here I'm supposed to meet....." Suddenly, a note fell into her lap. She picked it up and read it. "I'm starting to get tired of these clues to different places....." she muttered as she headed for the stairs.
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Void Dragoon Vice Captain
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Posted: Mon Jun 09, 2008 12:21 pm
Black soles touched down against the bright pathways of Silvermoon as Mallix trudged her way through the city. She had visited her old home, just to see what stood of it after the invasion of the Scourge. Nothing was left, of course, but the newly named Blood Elves had rebuilt well. The city was as beautiful as she remembered, perhaps even more so. The elves also has a certain grandeur about them, and it always showed in their architecture. She saw a couple familiar faces and many new ones as she made her way to Wayfarer's Rest. She was sure the Inn had been rebuilt as well, but before the invasion, during a life of somewhat normalcy, she enjoyed nights there with her friends.
All that was gone now, though, and she was here with a sense of duty and purpose. Besides, she was an elf no more, and while these were her new allies, she was no longer one of them. The time for memories was no more, and she felt no remorse or sadness. A sharp noise rang out as Krix reminded her of his presence, sailing the air currents on his ragged wings. She woke from her daze, her eyes narrowed as she opened the door to the Inn.
Mallix sat in a booth and waited, drinking a glass of their Suntouched Wine. Not that she could taste it, of course, but it, like the rest of the proud city, made her remember things she had thought she wanted not to. She eyed a note that had been left on the table as Krix hopped off her shoulder and hobbled over to it, picking it in his beak and retrieved it for her. The guard outside had not wanted to let Krix in with her, instead suggesting he be held at the stables or wait outside. That same guard had much more time to better think his words now while he lay unconscious on the cold stone. Her familiar grin returned to her face as she read the note and began to stand up, retrieving her quiver and bow. "Perhaps we should have a look about upstairs..."
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Posted: Tue Jun 10, 2008 12:09 am
((OOC: If you haven't noticed by now, I continue the RP without people. If you don't post because you can't (no internet or whatever, IRL issues) I'd appreciate if you'd tell me. I will make allowances for people who haven't been posting with good reason, but if you 'forgot' or whatever, ******** you, you can wait your turn. To be honest, I see it as a waste of my time.
To those who have been keeping up, thank you. I know its kinda boring right now but it'll get going very quickly.
Also omg baby tiger on tv n_n))
Upon opening the door, you are met with multiple stares. The room is lit only by the sun streaming through one window, creating a harsh, unforgiving atmosphere. Standing in the room is an extremely wide orc clad in thick plate armour and gigantic shoulderplates seemingly made from the horns of demons. One of his two eyes is permanently closed by a massive scar running the diagonal length of his face, his pointed green ears sporting a multitude of small hoop earrings. One hand rests on an impossibly big sword at his hip. He looks as if within a heartbeat, the blade could be drawn and you'd be dead before you knew what was happening.
Upon seeing you clearly, he nods and steps back from the door, moving to the side of the room. You notice, however, that one hand still rests on the hilt of his sword.
Standing directly to the right of the window is an impossibly old tauren. His fur is ash grey, his long mane, beard and braids snow white in colour. He wears a simple combination of leather and scale mail. A closer look will reveal that his massive bulk is entirely thick, sinewy muscle, and his eyes are a piercing blue.
To his right, a male blood elf with blond hair so light it appears almost white, pulled back into a high ponytail, a few strands of hair framing his chiseled face stands clad in plate armour, a crystalline sword at his hip and a glowing shield on his back. His expression is harsh, but something about his gaze conveys a sort of kindness about him.
Because of the sudden change in lighting, it takes your eyes a moment to get used to the light. Because of this reason, the seemingly bodiless pair of glowing yellow eyes in the corner takes you by surprise. A second later, you can make out the form of an almost skeletal yet still curvy female figure. She rises from her seat and steps into the light. Short purple hair, porcelain white skin (whats left of it) clad in a complex-patterned robe bloodelven in design. A pair of metallic wings protrude from her shoulderguards, giving her a priestly appearance.
To your immediate left stands a night elf female, lithe and slender form clad in blackened, bestial-looking mail armour. A giant bow, draenic in design, rests over an intricately-patterned quiver. A brief throaty growl brings an immense white tiger into view, seated calmly at the huntress' side.
The tauren across the room raises a hand in greeting, nodding gently to you. "So you have come. Lok tar. Once the others filter in, we will begin the briefing. I trust your journey was not difficult?" his voice is deep and ancient, fraught with wisdom.
((OOC: Holy character descriptions batman.))
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Posted: Tue Jun 10, 2008 10:18 am
Closing the door behind him, Helkast bowed low, his long beard almost brushing the wood floor. His gaze flicked around the room, his eyebrows raising as he took in the warlike atmosphere. "Greetings! Yes, my trip was quite uneventful, thankee... Why the party clothes?" His voice was light and joking, but he wasn't too surprised. After all, though the war was over, there were still threats aplenty from all sorts of potential enemies, from demons like the one who had threatened Ironforge years ago to simple angry wildlife. He almost wished he'd worn his battlegear to this meeting, but simple prudence had dictated otherwise. Better to appear in a business suit to a council of war than to appear in full plate to a peaceful meeting. Still... He dropped his pack in the corner, muffled clanks announcing clearly the presence of heavy armor within. Pulling a soft cloth from an external pocket of the pack, he also unslung his great maul, propping it against the wall next to an empty chair, which he appropriated. Settling himself on the edge of his seat, he began polishing the smooth stone head of his weapon, wiping off the travel dust.
While he appeared completely occupied, he was in fact cleaning mostly by rote -- he had been around weapons so long that their maintenance had become second nature, and sparing his attention for a longer look at the room and his companions in it. The orc drew his glance first, being the first individual he'd seen in the room. Big, muscular -- he clearly knew how to use that sword, but Helkast would have laid odds that the orc wasn't the most dangerous individual in the room. The tauren was Obviously the spokesman for the group, and dressed simply. Helkast doubted that this elder would have been brought along only for his speaking, wise though he sounded. Perhaps he was one of those Shamans. Helkast turned his eyes on the blood elf. Ah, a paladin. While he had great respect for the righteous warriors, he had heard many unsettling things about how the blood elves practiced their devotion. Clearly he would have to find out more. He smiled as he focused on the undead. He held the priesthood of both factions in high regard, as their mastery of healing had saved the lives of many during the war. While some were uneasy around the self-styled Forsaken, Helkast had seen how hard they fought against the far more monstrous undead Scourge, and any people who could fight so against such an overwhelming enemy was alright by him (as long as they didn't indulge their unnatural hunger while he was watching). Lastly, the huntress -- every curve of that dark armor indicated lethality, and the frostsaber only cemented the impression. Clearly not an elf to be trifled with. Helkast smiled softly, turning back to his hammer.
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Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2008 12:11 pm
The orc clears his throat loudly, eyeing the dwarf suspiciously. "Grim, please."
The elder tauren says, turning to chuckle at the curious dwarf. "We have no way of guaranteeing who comes through that door." he says with a small grin, although there is a tone of seriousness in his voice. "The enemy has many spies, and it is better to be safe than sorry."
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Posted: Wed Jun 11, 2008 9:42 pm
She walked up the stairs, and opened the door. Noticing the people standing there already talking, she quickly backed away. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything....." she began.
((Karn, I'm tired, about to pass out, if you want more in my post gaia mail me I'll edit in the morning........ better yet don't gaia mail, send a message in my minicity's message board so I get another person.....))
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