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 [RP] Hour of the forsaken...

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Fendoor
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PostSubject: [RP] Hour of the forsaken...   Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:31 pm

Grand Apothecary Putress had just finished briefing the apothecaries. Having just given the order to meet the Horde force at the Wrath Gate. Archnazg believing the orders came directly from Sylvanas, he hurried along, delighted.

"And so, now is the time, Forsaken." The Grand Apothecary smiles under his mask. Dozens of plague spreaders set off from Forsaken bases all around the Dragonblight.

Archnazg tailed the Grand Apothecary, organizing and directing the Forsaken troops. Gaze snapping in all directions, he carefully analyzed everything. The malevolent smile on his face could never be so discrete, though.

There was an awe of silence as the Royal Apothecary Society trawled along the frozen wastes to the Wrath Gate. Slowly, but surely, Grand Apothecary Putress, and Master Apothecary Archnazg Magnark arrived at the Wrath Gate, down below amassed a Horde and Alliance army, amalgamated into one supreme force. A battle raged, Undead beasts swarmed upon the Alliance and Horde, Highlord Bolvar Fordragon and Saurfang the Younger were seen, massacring in the fray, truly spiriting their army onwards.

"Charming, Grand Apothecary, charming to the last, this little union. However, it will be long before we can separate this group.. would be rather uncouth to poison our orcish brothers." Archnazg gazed upon the battle.

"Ah, Lord Magnark, I have however made some adjustments to the Dark Lady's plan, you shall see, we will prematurely enter the situation, one might say." the Grand Apothecary fueled an inconsiderate smile upon Archnazg.

"Why, Grand Apothecary.. as you wish, however--" Archnazg paused, frowning lightly. "Very well, I have been waiting for this for.." He trailed off, and projected a analytic gaze upon the battle.

The battle fired on, the Scourge at the gate decimated, Archnazg stood, with the Grand Apothecary and several high ranked members of the Royal Apothecary Society, looking upon the battle. The thoughts in Archnazg's head of political madness as a result of this had been driven out, his lust for the destruction of the living had never been more excited. The battle ceased., and Scourge driven back.

"Arthas! The blood of your father, your people demands justice! Come fourth, coward, and answer for your crimes!" Highlord Bolvar's voice empowered through the midst. Saurfang and him had taken to the front of the lines, awaitng the Lich King himself. Archnazg tilted his head, watching, truly intrigued.

The Wrath Gate clanked, the searing gate opened, a dark mist rolled out.. the Lich King, himself, paced out, his very steps quaking the ground. Everything turned cold, and freezing, Archnazg took a step back, looking in fear at the dark lord of the Scourge.

"You speak of justice, of cowardiness... I will show you the justice of the grave, and true meaning of fear." Archnazg sunk to a deep frown, and his face filled with distaste and terror. Everyone nevously looked down upon the battle, hoping that the Scourge forces would not catch a glimps of them, several apothecaries even took to fleeing the scenes. The Grand Apothecary was unreadable, he stood, gazing down at the battle.

Saurfang the Younger roared! "Enough! Let this be finished!" He charged at the Arthas, the Lich King, the grand emperor of the Scourge. As they met, the Lich King raised his blade, and deflected fourth the swipe that the orcish warrior had driven. His axe splintered into a thousand pieces, he fell back, decimated from the parry. The Lich King lowered his blade, it glowed in an unholy blue as he siphoned the soul of Saurfang the Younger. Hundereds of gasps of anger and fear met the army..

"You will pay... for ALL the lives you have stolen... traitor!" Bolvar's voice projected at Arthas.

Grand Apothecary Putess nodded to his subordinates. "Now is the time, unleash the blight." Archnazg nodded at the apothecaries,him and Doctor Sintar Maleficous and several other high ranked members watched, one even took to holding a clipboard, to analyze the results.

Archnazg's eyes widened, as he strapped a gas mask to his face.

"Boldly stated, but there is nothing you can----"

The sound of clashing metal and wood filled the air, the not so streamline design of the canisters soaring through the air created a hissing whistle as the New Plague of the Forsaken drove through the air, colliding onto the Alliance and Horde basecamps, screaming filled the air as the toxic gas poured out, rotting and smoldering the insides of the recipients as it filled their lungs.

Grand Apothecary Putress stepped forward, his figure never more aparent to the onlookers. He cackled manically at the situation.

"What...?!" Arthas and the Horde and Alliance force's gaze snapped up, to a platform adjacent to the court they stood in.

"Did you think we had forgotten?! Did you think we had forgiven!?" The Grand Apothecaries words were followed pitched, raising his hands out, mimicking his words, speaking in sheer delight and anguish. "Behold now, the terrible vengeance of THE FORSAKEN!"

Archnazg cackled manically, the Apothecaries cheered, truely maddned and crazed by the execution of the blight.

".....Sylvanas!"

"DEATH TO THE SCOURGE! AND DEATH TO THE LIVING!" Grand Apothecary Putress raised his hands into the air, preaching the words, his silhouette glaring in the sky. Behind him unleashed a gaze of canisters, gleaming with emerald. They collided with the ground, smashing open, a horrible gas unleashed, filling the air! Screaming and terror poured upon the force, soldiers choking, vomiting, rotting, their very faces sunk to a blackening tone as the rot filled their bodies.

Arthas was brought to his knees, coughing in the corruption of the blight. He inhaled the fumes, and stood up, hand by his chest, and went fourth from whenst he came, through the Wrath Gate with the words. "This... isn't... over..."

"Ahahahah! NOW all shall see, THIS is the hour of the Forsaken!" Grand Apothecary Putress' dominating voice met the ears of the dying Horde and Alliance troops.

"Oh my... what have we done....?!" Archnazg gazed upon the carnage. "We..." Grand Apothecary Putress laughed at him. Other apothecaries shared his view, others met Putress'." Come, let me also show you what I have created". He stood back, and paced off.. A portal was opened to Undercity.

***

They arrived in Undercity, DEMONS everywhere, forsaken fleeing!

The demons did not attack Archnazg, nor any whom arrived.

"In the name of Sylvanas! What has happened! The city.. this! To theQueen!" He summoned fourth a skeletal warhorse, and rode into the chaotic hell that was brought to Undercity, abandoning the apothecaries.

"Let him go..." Putress smiled. "The demons will get him."

Several apothecaries looked at Putress in distaste.. and anger.. Out of the blue, knives were brought to their throughs, and their heads slashed from them, by masked knife men.


Undercity had been taken over by demons, Varimathras and Putress been in it all along, now Archnazg realised the true reason of what transpired at Wrath Gate. He was going to get hell for this, the Horde will destroy the Forsaken for such, unless they could truely convince them of what had happened.

((Posted by Archnazg))
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PostSubject: Re: [RP] Hour of the forsaken...   Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:32 pm

((posted by Manovan))

Manovan opened his eyes, pondering the vision he had seen through Kilrogg’s eye. He sat with his legs crossed at a fire place in a hut in Agmar’s Hammer, Ewah cleaned her blade and Saleos practiced his harp.

”Just like Uhrian said. Putress did stage a coup d’état against the Forsaken.”

”That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Ewah asked. ”With the Forsaken down, we are free to carry on with our plan.”

Manovan shook his head. ”The Forsaken must be destroyed, but I`m not sure Putress’ rule would benefit our own coup. However …”

Ewah looked at him and Saleos stopped playing the harp.

”Damnit!” Manovan grinded his teeth, hit his imp Chouri over the head so he fell across the room, and reached for one of his bags. He took out a bloodstone pendant, held it in front of him and tried to figure out how to handle the situation. ”We need samples of the Blight. Let’s raid the apothecary camps before the Horde does it for us.”
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PostSubject: Re: [RP] Hour of the forsaken...   Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:33 pm

((posted by Caliopea))

Her lungs still tainted with the blight, caliopea hacked a cough and continued to cast cleansing around her as the mighty alextraza landed close by, she turned her head to look over her shoulder behind her and exclaimed to the dragon "unexpected".

Turning her whole body to the dragon and walking awkwardly towards her still feeling the effects of the powerful toxin she listened to her request to find saurfangs armor, saurfang must know what happened here.. caliopea could only agree, someone's head would role for this that was without doubt.

Guilt wracked over her mind for a moment, venomspite... I helped them to perfect the damn thing, if only I had known.. Those damned foresaken had tricked us all, we were just pawns in their plan.

Grand apothecary's indeed, names stood clear in her mind as she flew towards warsong hold to give the grave news.

Archnazg! she remembers warning him in tirisfal "dont go through with it you dont know what your doing" when he set his lacky on her, cast her aside for not being some big strong warrior, but maybe now her words will mean something to him, maybe now he'll wish he listened.

When she finds him, she'll make him wish it.
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PostSubject: Re: [RP] Hour of the forsaken...   Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:34 pm

Xariandra didn't understand.

She had been watching the battle high above the ground, and oh the pleasure of seeing that arrogant Orc being sent into his death, and then endless torment by her Master himself.

But the plague... how had it brought her Master to his knees; the one who had INVENTED the first plague?

Later, inside the Cathedral of Darkness, Icecrown

An acolyte came running in. Xariandra was at the altar, knelt down, praying to the darkness and for victory in this hour of war. Their plans had to succeed. This was all Xariandra ever had what you could consider a "dream".

The acolyte coughed lightly and spoke. "Mistress... You had asked to be personally informed where the one responsible for this went... I think you will be delighted with the news." Xariandra stood up, and slowly turned her head to the acolyte to meet his eyes with her burning orbs. "Well? Go on." The acolyte nodded and went on. "His name was "Grand Apothecary Putress, milady, and he has taken over the Undercity from Sylvanas. It seems a civil war erupted inside the Horde."

Xariandra grinned broadly inside her mask. "They don't stand a chance against the Scourge when their forces start fighting each other.. This.. is very good news.. My prayers have been answered. Dismissed, acolyte."

The acolyte ran off again out of the cathedral, leaving Xariandra behind kneeling down once again for more prayers.

((Posted by Xariandra))


Last edited by Nershaan on Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:35 pm; edited 1 time in total
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PostSubject: Re: [RP] Hour of the forsaken...   Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:35 pm

The news was cried across the streets of Stormwind. Fordragon was dead. The caretaker of Stormwind, the man who had guided Stormwind so well since the Kings departure, he was slain by The Forsaken and their cloud of plague. Soldiers were gathered in the keep and Merke stood, arms folded, behind the form of Lady Proudmore. He had only just returned from Northrend himself after being one of many who stood at that look-out, watching the death of the living and the purge of the lands by those great dragons. He didn't see Fordragon himself go down; it was very hard to pick out individuals at range with his blindfold wrapped across his eyes.

It seemed Lady Proudmore had already contacted Thrall; certain members of the Forsaken had commited treason and The Undercity was theirs. It was a Horde matter.

Our new King had different ideas.

Soldiers were armed, mages were called for their portaling abilities. The Undercity beckoned for the Alliance. Merke grinned to himself and examined the grey form of the new King; he knew so little about him but it was obvious he was a leader of men and a fine warrior... Maybe a little rash in his actions shown here today.

Could we afford another war against another foe? - A question that ran through the minds of so many gathered. Merke cared not, nor did he ask himself that question; today was simply an opportunity for him. He would be fighting alongside The King. What better Human to impress with your Combat Expertise?

Unsheathing his 'Buster' Sword and wrenching the glaive from his back, he moved towards the portal.
((Post by Merke))
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PostSubject: Re: [RP] Hour of the forsaken...   Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:36 pm

Ilwyorden paced around the courtyard of Stormwind Keep as the handful of people there waited anxiously for word from the King's Guards. There were no more than half a dozen of them dotted around the grass and along the steeping corridor, all awaiting the next portal to take them to the Undercity. Most people were content sitting alone, silently contemplating the gravity of their impending trip.

Lady Proudmoore informs us that you shall not need to wait more than 5 minutes. She thanks you for your patience. The Keep guard had also picked up the habit of pacing up and down the long corridor leading to the Keep's main hall, only stopping his walk to announce news of progress to the guests with his soothing, authoritative voice. He sounded young, which was probably why he wasn't being asked to join the group himself.

It was no secret that an alliance party storming into the Undercity was likely to go noticed by Horde eyes and ears. But there was little worry of Horde backlash from their presence. More, Wyo thought, a problem with the King; a particularly fiery and passionate regal if there ever was one. Just how level-headed could he remain in a battle over the death of his make-shift brother?

These worries were uneccesary weight, he thought. Wrapping his broad, reinforced dark green cloak around his body, he set his eyes on his immediate company.

He didn't recognise many of the people waiting alongside him, but the two he did know particularly interested him. He had arrived in the Keep alongside Maleth Del'mir, who appeared to be the poor soul with the burden of delivering the news of Lord Bolvar's passing to the King himself.

This was no surprise, mind. As long as he'd known Maleth, he had organised and commanded forces dedicated to the name of the king and his safety, and in turn took command from the late Lord. It seemed fitting that he would be the one to pass Bolvar's shield into Varian Wrynn's hands, and if one were to take it far enough, would almost be cheating him if it weren't Maleth's task to take.

It was odd to see the sadness in so many influencial souls over the passing of someone who had never really had any impact on Wyo's own life.

Seeing one mourning person pass on grave news to another was always going to be a tough situation to digest, but knowing the passion that at least Maleth had put into his work and his relationship with the powers of the Keep, as well as the King's own tearful reprise, he almost felt as if he were the one who should be feeling the saddest for not being moved at all over the passing of someone who had clearly done so much for some people.

More errneous thoughts, he pondered as he continued to pace as the thick chains hung from his bladed pauldrons, clanking together with each heavy step. His eyes were then drawn to Tyragon, another old friend and a recent driving force of local Argent Dawn forces. He was stood perfectly still, deep in thought, as was normal if he had nothing to say.

Wyo wasn't sure what the paladins thoughts were on all of this, but whatever they were, they had his face fixed in a state of preperation. He had become a figure of business and knew better than almost anyone Wyo had the forture of knowing, when to keep opinions and distractions away when duty called.

"Lady Jaina is ready for you all now." announced the guard without breaking his stride from entering the room, pivoting on his heels and turning back down the corridor he had entered from, everyone else obidiently and silently following behind.

Taking a deep breath, Ilwyorden reached up and pulled his black masking from his neck and over his nose, leaving nothing but his eyes and hair visible from his shroud of cloak and blades. His eyes wandered wistfully as his mind tugged at the thought that just a mere fortnight ago, he would not have been in this situation or probably even spared a thought for it. Perhaps a few kind words here and there to his oldest of friend still alive, but little more.

And yet now here he was, lended to the returned King's will, about to enter battle for the Alliance once again under his new mantle as a Warden of Darnassus. But for the first time for as long as he could remember, he did not want to fight.

This was one battle he did not want his name attributed to, as his mind and his gut nagged him that the Battle of the Undercity would have ramifications far beyond bringing a vile criminal to justice.

And he knew that he was not the only one with these thoughts.

With a disapproving shake of the head to no-one but himself, his leather-wrapped gloves jutted from beneath his cloak with a scroll of paper clasped firmly in his fingers. Beneath various lines of finely scribed text, one word sat embolded in thick black ink, alongside a blotted blood-red cross.

By order of the King of Stormwind, Putress' was marked for death.
(( Post by Wyo))
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PostSubject: Re: [RP] Hour of the forsaken...   Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:38 pm

*General Hrothgarr was peering around through the fog of battle, Undercity's screams of pain could be heard everywhere. After the battle at Wrathgate, the Alliance unleashed it's wrath against the Horde, plundering every capital city in their way.*

*Corpses of the forsaken layed on the floor, shattered bones and broken limbs everywhere, although The Alliance had victory that day, Sylvanas managed to escape somehow. Hrothgarr walked towards through the hall leading out of Sylvanas' chamber, he spat on the tabard of the house of sylvanas on his way out. "No where tae be found, lets go home lads" he said slowly as he seathed his blade. "Let them remember this day..."he thought to himself, as he rallied the troops and exited the city. His voice filled Tirisfal Glades while riding back to Stormwind. "Glory tae the Alliance!"

((Posted by Hrothgarr ))
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PostSubject: Re: [RP] Hour of the forsaken...   Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:38 pm

Speatus stood on the top of the Kor’korn watch tower.. his body guards stood slightly quivering behind him. He could not believe what he had seen. The blight, the death, his own clan... his people... fleeing. The pup Saurfang had been downed in a single blow and the sudden blast of blight seemed to be enough to rout even the Warsong.
His eyes burned red, a deep fire that seemed to ignite his very soul. His shoulders were slowly rising and falling with his heavy breathing, the knuckles of his hands turning white, each hand gripped an axe tightly. He felt it working through him once again, it had not changed. Something coursed through him.. like it did at the battle of hammerfall and the battle of Cenarious. For years he had been free of the felblood.. but he had never lost the pure rage that it inflicted.
Loritar, his wife was down there.. as was his brother, Blademaster Krusg. He could not see them, nor any of his soldiers. The mass of mindless cowards he once called the Horde ran from battle like whipped children. He could no longer control it...

“Sir, It’s coming.. we should...” One of the Honour guards tried to mutter...
“You. Will. Remain. Here.” Speatus almost hissed each word through clenched teeth.

The guard hesitated slightly, before he dropped his axe and made a run for the stairs. The other guard tried to stop him but was too late as he slipped out the door and took five stairs at a time to try escape. His attempt was short lived though as the familiar sound of an axe to the head echoed up the stairwell. Foot steps followed.
Speatus turned to see his brother burst through into the room, his massive bulk having to duck through the doorway to enter. He dropped the head of the fleeing body guard onto the floor and coughed loudly.

“He try to run.. Krusg stop coward.”
“I am glad to see you have survived, brother.
“It take more that green smoke to drop mighty Krusg.”
“Agreed... Where is Loritar?”


Krusg diverted his eyes to the floor, it was clear without him having to speak what had happened.

“Sylvanas... Archnazg...” Speatus hissed. He walked to the edge of the tower and looked over to the forsaken camp.
“Prepare the Worgs, we will have to explain this to Garrosh. Enjoy the ride to the Hold, pups...”

Speatus said as he stormed toward the staircase out of the tower.

“...we’ll be lucky if we aren’t executed by sundown.”

((Posted by Speatus))
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PostSubject: Re: [RP] Hour of the forsaken...   Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:41 pm

((Posted by Fendoor))

The cold breeze of the forrest made its way over the apparently empty courtyard. Only the shadows of the trees, swinging in the wind seemd to be moving inside this empty keep.

But the silence of the night was soon broken by the sound of charging Kodos through the forrest, and with that the slow moving shadows of the keep sprung to life. The maingate opens with the typical sound of a metal slagged heavy timber door being opened. Faint whispers fills the courtyard

"Ironhide isss heeere"

The forrest gives way and reveals four kodos charging into the courtyard with a cloud of dust at their entrance. The riders dismounts and make way inside the keep. They are Taurens of posture, big, strong, heavy in their footsteps, whereas one carries a mace which head is coverd with a heavy cloth bag.

"NERSHAAAAN!" the lead Taurens growls into the keep! The three others keeping sturdy eyes at shadows moving towards them. Cloaked and masked beings appear infront of them, beconing them to follow, and so they do.

Into the dark keep they go, till they meet another large wooden door. Infront of the door on each side is dark black and red plated guards, with polearms glowing faint red with an aura that seems almost alive.

"Dark Templars..." the tauren whispers under his breath.

The door opens and inside the throne room the one he seeks sits, dimly lit by a distant torch. A little behind the throne another of them Dark Templars can be seen, however this one seems to be of a heavier caliber. The three bodyguards are told to wait outside, while the one is called into the chamber.

The tauren enters, brings forth his mace and lays it down on the ground as he takes to a knee before the throne.

"Nershaan, i bring thee news of great dispair from the northern regions, Northrend.."

The figure sitting on the throne melts away into the shadows of the seat, just to reapear behind the tauren...walking past him silently, letting his fingers run over the mane of this big tauren.

"...news you say...what news do you bring then...general.."

"That which we forseen, and tried stop has come to play m'lord, at the gates of Icecrown, during the joint assult by Horde and Alliance forces..."

The figure stops, turns, and glares at the Tauren

"The plague?"

The tauren nods as comformation

"Archnazg, the fool! He should have heeded my warning when we last met in the Drag of Orgrimmar...The plague was not to be pursued again!"

He now pulls back the hood of his cloak, and looks out through the window, thinking, his claws caressing his temple.

"Well this does indeed explain the ruccus in Undercity of late...thank god the queen got away"

He then turns and says

"General Ironhide, Templar Dragonhawk - Gather your best - We have to get hold of that old priest of the house for his own good. Even tho he was a large part responsible for the events passed, he might aswell be the one to solve it. Lets just hope Sylvanas has not yet gotten her hands on him...This betrayl she will not take lightly to. He must be kept hidden till her lust for his blood is stilled."

The Templar behind the throne steps forth and bows grachiously before making his exit. The tauren, pulling the bag off his mace, revealing its nature of lightning and chaos, slams it to the ground as he rises. The room is lit with sparks and the ground yealds for the maces power, breaking apart at the site of impact.

"I, Fendoor Ironhide of the Darkmane tribe shall not rest till the Blood Lords wish has been fullfilled, this i pledge"

The lord bows at the tauren before taking his seat on the throne once more....whispering to himself

"The rememnants of The Council of Medivh must be found, so must once keepers of the House of Praetoria...and lastly a long lost friend....Drakarm...Their warnings should have been heeded when we fist made contact with them..."

The heavy maindoor of the keep once again closes, the lights of the keep put out....only the soft movements from the shadows of trees once again move inside the keep courtyard...
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