Archive for the 'Saturday RP' Category


Saturday RP – Conclusions, part 1

Ignat stood before the desiccated thing, placing his fists upon his hips as his brow furrowed with consternation.  Next to him, seeming to blend into and out of the shadows constantly, stood Finegal, his arms crossed over his chest as a self satisfied smirk began to grow across his features.  “Here sits our goal, as inspirational as it is divine,” he intoned to the cavern’s chamber, “with this magnificent weapon we can at last lay waste to both Arthas’ scourge and the hated Horde.  All glory to the Alliance, forever victorious.”

Ignat ignored the sarcastic speech, focusing instead on the withered mummy of a man who sat cross legged and preternaturally still on a natural bench of rock jutting out from the base of the cavern’s wall.  After four hours of spelunking and descending further and further into the bowels of the frozen island of Northrend, the man and the gnome had found themselves face to face with their goal.  The only problem was that the Forsaken Oracle, who this surely was, was non-responsive to any form of communication, simply sitting with it’s eye’s closed and back curved against the wall.

“It’s dead Ig,” Finegal intoned at last, “let us burn the cursed thing and be done with it.  I wish to set an ambush for those Horde wretches who are surely following us.  Hopefully we’ll catch Ter’vona in it as well.”

Ignat sighed heavily and turned to look at the shadow priest, his eyes narrowing slightly in annoyance, “Finegal, of course it’s dead, it’s had the same curse visited upon it that all scourge have, but it is more similar to Sylvanas’ lot.  I can feel the same spark of magic animating it that is present in all undead, it is simply choosing not to respond to us.”

“Then let us create a portal and return to Valiance Keep with this wineskin of a man and we can hand him over to the Inquisitors.  They’ll get him to respond, you can have no doubt.”

“No, unfortunately, you cannot port someone against their will.  If they resist the pull of magic for any reason then the spell simply breaks and they get left behind, allowing the Horde to regain the advantage.  We could summon soldiers to come and carry him from here, but we would have to deal with our shadows fir-”

Finegal suddenly stood up straight and turned, a sound echoing down the passage from which they had emerged into the chamber that held Oracle.  “Tabernac,” cursed the shadow priest, “they have caught up to us, Ig, set the thing on fire or something to wake it up, I’ll try to slow them down.”

With that he seemed to slip into the long shadows created by the small ball of light floating at the shoulder of the gnome who simply nodded and stepped forward, his face inches from the undead’s long since rotted stump of  a nose.  As the gnome studied the face of what he hoped would become the Alliance’s newest source of intelligence against the Scourge, he noticed a slight twitch in the muscles.  Ignat stepped back a moment later when the eyelids shot open, revealing orbs of pure white that gave the impression of movement somewhere below their glasslike surfaces.

“You… you can see me?” piped the slightly shaken gnome.

The jaw, set at an unnatural forty-five degree angel from the rest of the skull, began to slide up and down, creating the unpleasant sound of bone grinding against bone.  As the Oracle spoke for the first time, the words came out of sync from the methodical up and down motion of the jaw, setting Ignat further at ease while the paper like rustling of the thing’s voice entered his mind, “The… door approaches… I will leave… with you… now,”

“Uh… excellent, excellent, let me simply gather my com-”

“Now… must go… now…” A note of urgency entered the whispered words, the thought occurring to Ignat that this thing was afraid of something.

“Finegal!” called Ignat, trying to see into the gloom past his orb of light’s radius.

“Too late… too late… he sees… he sees…”

With that, the Oracle leaned his head back and began to utter an unearthly wail.

* * * * *

For the third time since they had entered the gloom of the cave, Dueg felt a flash of heat radiate out from his sternum, engulfing his whole body momentarily to the point of being uncomfortable before it faded.  He supposed that perhaps the rigors of their trials was getting to him as he looked over to Noxt, who was still burning a path through the magical frost left behind by the hated Alliance gnome.  Scrat stood with his hand pressed against the wall, his strength still returning only slowly while Reyk looked on into the gloom of the passage before them, watching carefully for any movement.  After a few moments, Noxt stood suddenly and looked down, perplexed.

“The ice is fading…” he said, his voice slowly trailing.

Reyk and Dueg both stepped forward, looking down at the floor of the cavern and boggling at the ice, not just what the mage had been burning, but all of it, slowly receded, simply vanishing as the spell began to unweave.  “The spell has faded,” said Reyk, “they must have either left or they are waiting for us now.  Come then, let us oblige them.”

With that he stepped forward in a guarded stance, his eyes shifting left and right as he gripped his sword tightly.  Slowly the others followed, also wary of any traps as suddenly the cave seemed to be alive with noise and shadow.  Dueg felt another flash of heat come over him as he pulled his dark wand from it’s sheath, and held it ready for use as the four grouped together, moving slowly but determinedly down into the depths.  And as they moved, the shadows danced.

* * * * *

End Part 1



Saturday RP – Obstacles

Scrat grasped at his head, still groggy from being informed so recently, but for the most part feeling like his old self save for the occasional dizzy spell.  Dueg turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised as the troll simply shook his head and leaned heavily upon a large boulder jutting from the wall of the ravine, allowing the dizzy spell to pass as his body continued it’s uphill climb in expunging his system fully.  For the better part of a day the companions had been moving, ever since Scrat was strong enough to stand.  If not for the spirits who answered his call for aid, he most likely would still be sitting at the cliff at the top of the chasm, waiting for his health to completely stabilize.

Though rest would have been nice, the four had had to move quickly, knowing that the Alliance agents had a head start upon them.  With the afternoon had come a loud explosion and rumbling noise from the direction of their destination, driving them to a higher speed, aware that their time was ever shrinking.  More than once Scrat had compelled them to leave him behind and he would catch up, but with the chance for their counterparts to dig in and create a defensible position, Reyk insisted they would need all their resources.  So they had moved slowly but surely throughout the day, finally finding the entrance to their goal.

At first they were unaware of anything wrong other than the apparent landslide caused by an explosion to reveal the entrance to the cave.  The long shadows cast from the sinking sun served to mask the patina of frost coating the entirety of the cave entrance until Reyk took a misstep and tumble, frowning in consternation as he stood.  Noxt moved forward and laid a hand upon the line of frost, drawing his thin, mummified lips into a close approximation of a frown.  “Magical frost, I can melt it, but it will take a while to burn enough for a path.”

Reyk called upon the light to manifest itself, making his hand glow a pure brightness and holding it up, seeing that the patina spread even further into the cave, summoning forth a particularly violent curse upon the Alliance’s future generations and punctuating it by spitting.  “Do it,” he said grimly, “and we will finish this when we catch these fools.”

* * * * *

Ignat ran his fingers along the smooth wall that stood at the end of the cavern they had spent the last hour descending into.  “The issue is closed, Finegal, what’s done is done,” he said with a steady authority as he examined what he knew must be a door.

“She’s a deserter, Ignat, I don’t care that she told us where to find this wretch.  Running off like that after allowing the prisoners to escape and then just showing up in the middle night and telling us where to go, but refusing to come with us.  I swear, once we return to Wildervar, I’m going to report her, I’ll have a warrant issu-“

“If it wasn’t for her,” murmured the gnome distractedly as he turned to the wall besides the smooth wall of stone, running his fingers along the cavern wall, “we’d still be stumbling around blindly along the mountain paths.  She’s done her part.  You’re just upset because she caught you unawares while you were on guard duty.  Now stop blustering and help me get this door open.”

The human priest snorted, but turned to the opposite wall anyways and began to run his fingers in a similar fashion to the gnome, searching for any irregularities as the two lapsed into silence and deep concentration.  After a few long minutes, Ignat made a slight grunt as he detected a magical screen covering a tiny, finger sized portion of the wall.  After pinpointing the location of enchantment, he slipped a slender finger into the groove and felt a small latch, flipping it up.  Smoothly and with only a slight whisper to announce it’s movement, the door slid up, revealing still more cavern beyond.  But one step closer to their goal still.

After allowing Finegal to move through door, Ignat whispered a word of elemental power, touching his finger to the base of the wall below the magically concealed switch.  In a smooth motion he reached up and flipped the switch, then rolled beneath the swiftly descending door.  A puff of smoke slowly rose up from where it landed, leaving behind silence except for the sound of frost ascending up the wall of the cavern and coating the switch, freezing it fast in place.

* * * * *

The lich moved hurriedly among the three restrained cultists who were weeping and whispering with joy at being chosen for sacrifice.  Except for the occasional gasp of pleasure from the sudden jab of a needle or slice along their flesh, they remained relatively quiet, causing the undead thing no end of frustration.  Willing victims are never any fun it thought to itself, wishing it had had time to do things right and capture a few of the insect races crawling around Naxxramas’ outer territories.  But time had been of the essence, wanting to murder it’s quarry soon so it could focus on bigger plans.

Slowly the blood from the cultists pooled into the awaiting bins below them, slowly dripping into tubes the sucked hungrily at the crimson fluid and fed them at a steady drip onto the sapphire that fueled it’s diabolical machine.  For over an hour now the jewel had been fed, ravenously drawing in as much life force as it could from the blood.  The ball of gold held within the latticework glowed brightly, ready for the words that would cause it to once more become a magical conduit.  Soon, all things would be ready and it could work at a safe distance in order to kill those four fools who had dared to trespass along it’s territory.

Suddenly the lich stopped, noting a distinct change in the laboratory that indicated a second undead being of power had arrived.  Slowly it turned, hissing threateningly at the new arrival before recognizing what it was that stood before him.  Letting the noise die, it quickly bowed as it recognizing the power and rank of the diminutive floating figure before it, though it only rose to about three feet off the ground.  Slowly a second figure formed from the blackness, a ghostly banshee coalescing behind it, the ever present bodyguard of this particularly powerful lich.  Wrapped in deep velvet robes that trailed to just inches above the floor, the thing spoke from deep within the blackness of it’s cowl, “Daedry, your project is at a close, the quarry you pursue are marked for other plans.”

The human lich’s eyes bulged in sudden anger at the statement and stood, beginning to sputter at the tiny lich before it held up a small finger in warning, silence once more settling over the laboratory as the gnomish lich floated gently over to the intricate machine powered by the sapphire, examining it closely, “Fascinating, Daedry.  You don’t mind if I make use of this since it no longer serves your purposes, do you?  No, I expect not.”  The lich turned to it’s ghostly bodyguard, “Please remove him from my new laboratory.”

The human lich stepped forward, “You cannot!” it cried before the gnome turned and pointed, causing the lich to go rigid for a moment before it simply flipped it’s tiny finger up.  Immediately the empty vessel that was the human lich collapsed to the floor, rotted bones and skin that had once been animated by it’s corrupted soul finally allowed to rest.  The gnome turned to banshee once more, pulling back it’s cowl.  “Find the phylactery and destroy it, we don’t need an enemy with an agenda.”  Slowly it turned back to the machine, whispering the words that caused it to flare to life as the gold turned an oily black before resolving onto Duegathalas and the three others waiting for the frost to melt.  “We are so very close to our goals after all, aren’t we?”



Saturday RP – Of Elves

Dueg’s eyes blurred slightly as exhaustion began to creep up on him.  He had been tending Scrat for a full 7 hours now, constantly making sure that he was healing the damage done by the poison before it could insinuate itself into the troll’s system too much.  It had been tiring work, but the poison had finally begun to abate and Scrat’s tossing and moaning had begun to lessen.  Dueg nodded with satisfaction, knowing that the troll would survive this ordeal thanks in part to his extraordinary regeneration abilities and Dueg’s ministrations.

He reached down and allowed the light’s holy power to flow through him, once more healing the damage that Scrat’s organs were taking, letting them regenerate back to full only for the poison to once more attempt to eat at them.  Though he knew it was painful, Dueg also knew that anything less and this fast acting poison would eat away at Scrat from the inside out until even his system couldn’t take the damage anymore.  Dueg sighed and leaned back, knowing that Scrat would be good for a while now that the poison was being worked from his system, but also knowing that the troll was not out of the woods just yet.

Dueg shivered slightly in the cold mountain air, drawing his cape up around him for the little warmth it gave whole checking the paths along which they had come and along which the alliance who had poisoned Scrat had retreated.  Because he had to be awake in order to keep Scrat alive, he had been nominated to take the watch as his other two companions took their rest.  Reyk was asleep in his bedroll a few paces from Dueg and Scrat, his sword within easy reach.  Noxt, no longer in need of sleep thanks to his state of undeath, had gone on a scouting mission to attempt to find their goal.  Cloaked in invisibility, he had crept out of their makeshift camp a few hours ago.

A soft sigh suddenly came to Dueg’s keen ears, followed by a gentle voice, “Poison dagger.  That must have been Finegal’s idea though I’m sure the blade was meant for your back and not the troll’s.”

Dueg looked up in the direction of the voice, unaware the sleep had slowly been creeping up on him, allowing his senses to dull.  Sitting on the ledge with her back to him was the Night Elf woman who had allowed him his freedom when they had made their escape from the alliance camp.  Her form seemed silhouetted in the moonlight, outlining both the feminine curves of her waist and the keen edged blade that sat within inches of her splayed fingers as she leaned back, looking up into the face of the brightly lit moon.  Looking over to Reyk, he saw a small dart jutting from his form.  Though he still breathed, Dueg was sure that he would be incapacitated for the time being.  Dueg’s hand crept towards his wand, the only weapon at hand in case he needed to strike quickly.

“You did not give me much of a hunt, Sin’dorei Duegathalas, I am disappointed.  I had hoped that an elf would prove more resourceful than this.  Elune shines brightly tonight, doesn’t she?”

Dueg slowly began to draw his wand when he heard a low, quiet growl coming from above him.  Looking up, he saw the Night Elf’s saber toothed companion staring down at him from the ridge above, watching him intently.  He left his wand where it sat and looked back to the Night Elf.

“Your friends were the ones who slowed us here, forcing us to delay our journey.  Had they not, we may have already found our destination and been on our way.”

“Perhaps,” she replied, “or perhaps not.  The fate Elune weaves for us is as fickle as any other.  But that is no longer relevant.  I have found you and now the question is not one of how to catch a Sin’dorei, but what to do with one.”

“And what will that be, alliance flunkey?”  Dueg felt his ire beginning to rise, “Will you murder us here on this ridge while your goddess watches?  You’ll have to, you know.  Reyk won’t go quietly and to move the troll would mean death for him for at least a few more hours.  Will you condemn us all so you can declare your hunt complete?”

Ter’vona suddenly pushed up, her legs swiveling over her head as she launched herself backwards and spun, landing smoothly in a kneeling motion in front of Dueg.  Her short sword was at his throat as she pressed in, those violet eyes once more giving the impression that they were examining what lay beneath Dueg’s skin as much as they were what was above it.

“Perhaps I should, Sin’dorei Duegathalas.  Perhaps I should add yet another martyr to the string of dead that represent the lost legacy of the immortal elves, because in the end it doesn’t matter.   For centuries I have lived and only now do I see the folly of a life taken for granted as you do yours.  An elf’s life is sacred, much more than any of the other races, for it was meant to be ever lasting.  And you would throw yours away for the sake of a pretty speech.”

She sighed and stood, sliding the sword once more into it’s sheath and turning, looking down into the ravine.  “The cave of the Forsaken Oracle is at the bottom of this ravine.  The entrance is covered by a landslide, but you can still find it if you know what to look for and I trust your undead friend might.  He’s full of surprises, that one.”  She turned once more to look at Dueg, still sitting against the side of the mountain.  “So long, Sin’dorei Duegathalas, I hope that next time you give me better sport when I come searching for you.”

She turned and suddenly hopped off the lip of the cliff, disappearing from sight.  Dueg scrambled to the edge, peering over and seeing her lightly sprinting away along a small jutting path about twenty feet below him.  She turned once more and winked at him, then bowed and ran off around the corner, the only sign of her ever having been there was the small crease on Dueg’s throat where her blade had gently kissed it.



Saturday RP – Delays

Dueg’s hand feebly tried to cover the rumbling sound issuing insistently from his stomach.  For the past two days now the three still breathing companions had grown increasingly tense and frustrated as their hunger had become more and more overwhelming.  Due to the urgent need to reach the Forsaken Oracle first, they had been forced to abandon hunting for the Warlock and Death Knight who had stolen their supplies and rations and move further into the mountains.  Now they found themselves on a mountain pass, the thin air mixed with severe hunger taking it’s toll on all their psyches.

Noxt, however, had seemed to grow in an increasingly enjoyable mood, as though it were simply a jaunt through a decorated garden.  Dueg couldn’t grasp how someone who had had their mind pervaded and turned into a puppet could have such an enjoyable time afterwards.  He supposed it had to do with the fact that his nerves were deadened to the pain of soar muscles and that his lungs no longer needed the precious oxygen that was slowly filtering out of the atmosphere the higher they got.  Either way, thoughts of murder kept flitting through all three of the oxygen starved minds that still needed it.

The four had hardly spoken since they had begun the hard hike, knowing that their destination was drawing near, but unsure of how to accomplish their goal since they had been severely reduced in resources.  Reyk still had his sword and a mail shirt, but his plate armor had been stolen while they battled the lich, righteous rage flowing through him even know at the heresy of having his holy armor debased by other’s hands.  Dueg on the other hand had his prayer stone and staff stolen.  Though the staff was of little concern with only a minor light enchantment upon it, without his prayer stone his meditations had lost their soothing effect upon him.  He was becoming increasingly frazzled the further along they went.

Scrat, however, had been hit the hardest.  Most of his armor had been stolen by the thieves, but what had hit the hardest was the loss of his intricately carved totems.  As a shaman, he tended to carry dozens of them at a time, used in order to summon spirits or command elements.  Without them, Scrat had lost an edge of his effectiveness, making him little more than a mace wielding warrior who could occasionally fire off an elemental burst.  He had already begun to carve new ones, but at the moment they were crude and hardly indicative of what they represented, meaning they wouldn’t command much power in the elemental world.

And so the three had grown increasingly miserable as they continued on, griping and snapping at each other as their main form of communication.  Noxt, on the other hand, had lost almost nothing except a few magical components easily replaced and an enchanted dagger that, though valuable, was hardly irreplaceable for the crafty mage.  Mixed with the fact that the journey was taking little to no toll on the mage and that he was actually seeming to enjoy it made him increasingly insufferable to the three who had taken losses.

“Not too far now, my comrades, not too far at all,” intoned Noxt for what must have been the third time in the last few hours.  Though they were indeed in the area of their destination, there was certainly nothing to indicate that they might be drawing closer or farther away from the Oracle they sought.  Reyk opened his mouth to let Noxt know where he could place his cheery attitude when a small shape suddenly jumped down from an outcropping above them, landing in the middle of the group and yelling out an arcane word of power.

Before any of the companions could react, all four of them were frozen to the ground, held firm by blocks of ice that crawled up their calves.  Reyk immediately swung at the shape which was able to swiftly roll under the keen edged blade and then away from the outraged holy warrior.  Light, whispered Dueg, bless this area with di- suddenly Dueg’s voice was snatched from him, causing him to lose his command of the spell that would have dispelled these frozen blocks.  He looked up to see the small shape stand up next to a taller one, both resolving into the Alliance wretches that had held them prisoner before.

Dueg felt his rage rise as he saw the murderous shadow priest Finegal standing with the tiny mage Ignat as they both began to whisper spells.  Before they could finish however, Scrat called upon the spirits to release him from the magical embrace, jumping forwards and swinging his mace at the shadow priest, causing him to go off balance and lose the thread of power he had been gathering.  Noxt meanwhile released a fireball, watching with glee as it flew straight for the diminutive magic user who made no move to dodge or step out of the way.  A second later, however, the fireball flared and then died against the magical barrier of ice surrounding the mage.

Suddenly they were all free as the spell which had held them slowly dissipated and Reyk shot forward in a blind rage, his sword held high and ready to destroy their enemies.  He didn’t get more than a few steps, however, before he collided with a wall of ice which sprung up instantly between him and the two alliance.  Scrat, who was grappling with the shadow priest in a fierce hand to hand brawl disappeared from sight as well as Noxt stepped forward, placing his hand upon the barrier as tendrils of freezing air swirled around it.  After a moment, his hand began to glow a deep red and the ice slowly began to melt away, the wall gently shrinking.

After a few minutes, the three could see enough over the wall to see that the two Alliance were gone and Scrat lay unmoving upon the dirt path.  With a final shove, Reyk pushed what was left of the barrier over as Dueg rushed to Scrat, leaning down and examining him.  Reyk and Noxt immediately set up defensive positions, watching along the path that that curved away in case the two decided to make another rush at them as they tended to the troll.  Dueg rolled him over to find him breathing shallowly and his three fingers gripped around a wicked dagger that protruded from his side.

“Poison,” said Dueg, recognizing the slick, green liquid that coated the blade, “Fast acting as well, we can’t move him or he’ll die in the process.”

“You can’t cure him?” asked Reyk, keeping his eyes scanning the path.

“Poison is man made, it doesn’t have it’s roots in shadow’s entropic powers as diseases do.  I can’t cure him, but I can keep him alive till it passes from his system.  He’ll suffer greatly, most likely.”  Dueg sighed, “We’ll lose at least a day while he recovers.  I’m sure this was their plan from the beginning.”

Dueg reached down, removing the knife and slowly closing the wound with the light’s healing grace as Reyk sheathed his sword, swearing a particularly violent curse on all Alliance scum as he whispered, “Then we may have already lost.”



Saturday RP – Shadows

Ter’vona leaned down, stroking her fingers through the pile of ash where the fire had been.  She could tell that it hadn’t been more than 24 hours since the last embers were smothered and the companions had moved on from this clearing and that the mage must have joined them when they made their escape.  She also noted the heavy hoof prints of a Tauren and a third Sin’Dorei approaching from the east before continuing on to the west.  She could also ascertain from the frost damage to the grass and undergrowth that there was a magical fight at some point.  However, her prey had managed to get away, so it couldn’t have been devastating.  She sighed and stretched, allowing her muscles to each tense then relax as her mind digested this new bit of information.

It had been several days since she had left the Alliance camp while it still burned and struck out to find the priest and his three friends.  Leaving behind a simple note letting Ignat know that she had gone off to find them, within an hour of their escape she had been on the path to the northern Howling Fjord, hoping to cross paths with them somewhere around there.  After determining that the quickest route for them would be to come out of the Dragonblight, she had spent a full day stalking north along the edge of the chasm separating the two regions.  When she came across the remains of the ancient span that had collapsed, she knew they were involved and had double backed, moving quickly.

Once she had found the trail leading from out of the Northern Sea onto the small island separating the two regions, it had been child’s play to track them to the camp site that they had left behind.  Now she was close, and could feel that familiar thrilling surge as her prey blundered on in front of her, unaware of the danger at their backs.  Let Ignat follow them with the magical tracking device he had snuck into the boots of the paladin, she’ll take the old ways any time of the day.  She smiled as she thought of the towering rage he surely must have been in when he discovered her, his prisoners and his prized magical bag all gone after their supplies had gone up in flames.  Yes, she was sure it had been the most amusing of sights.

Her ear twitched as the sound of approaching footsteps came to her, but she quickly identified them as belonging to her saber toothed companion.  Slow and unhurried, the large cat stalked into the clearing and padded right up to Ter’vona, looking up at her quizzically for a moment before collapsing onto his back and rolling over, reaching out with a paw and making a rumbling, growling grunt.  Ter’vona frowned severely and gave his rump a small kick, “You big, dumb animal, we only ate two hours ago!  Reign in your stomach and stop your begging, there’s work to be done.”

The cat grunted again and rolled over, giving Ter’vona a disgruntled glance as it began to move around the clearing, sniffing at the undergrowth and peering intently through the trees.  She smiled at her companions antics once she was sure he was occupied, not willing to let him see her amusement.  For as long as Ter’vona had been scouting the forests of Teldrassil, the cat had always been there with her.  Simply appearing one day out of the brush, she remembers being awed at the majestic young animal that had stalked in and sat beside her at the fire, looking inquisitively from the crisping fish she had been cooking and back to her again.  She had given in and since that night the beast had been following her ever since, his ever hungry stomach feeling like a third companion.

She had never bothered to find a name for the animal, for it wasn’t her place to put identification to him.  He was simply her friend and that felt right for her as she tapped him on the shoulder and set off on the path of the three adventurers from the Horde.  She was determined to find them, to prove herself better than this curious elf who claimed kinship with her peoples.  So pale and the ears so bewildering tall, how the wind must whistle through the space between them!  Still, she thought, I will find them and bring them back to Ignat, if only to see him sputter when I return.

* * * * *

Ignat sputtered in consternation as he looked out over the steep edge of the cliff that him and Finnegal stood at and back at the map they had ripped from the priest’s mind.  The path clearly indicated that they needed to cross the ravine yawning before them, but no way of how to do so, causing Ignat to fly into another one of his more and more frequent tantrums as the whole endeavor had spiraled south.  Finnegal, the shadows ever licking around his legs and seeming to deepen into every crease of his robes and every wrinkle or crevice upon his face, simply shrugged as he tried to judge the distance to the other side.

“You should have let me kill him, Ig,” he stated simply, “then we wouldn’t have to chase down this oracle and recover your bag while constantly looking over our shoulders all at the same time.  Hell, we should have smothered the paladin and that vile troll as soon as we captured them.  We knew that the priest would be more susceptible to the mind control due to his dabbling in shadow magic as part of his training.  Honestly, I sho-“

“That’s enough, Finnegal!”  The red faced gnome turned from the edge, his slightly greened silver hair disheveled from having his hands running through it so often lately.  “The Alliance does not murder our prisoners.  Besides, you know about the supply shortage we’re feeling here on the frontier, those three would have provided a heavy ransom of supplies.  I’m warning you, Finnegal, your impetuous attitude is going to cost you dearly one day.”

The gnome turned back to the edge, tugging at his small beard as his mind worked until he finally let out a small sigh, “Well, nothing for it then.  I suppose we’ll have to go around.  According to the map, there’s a small Horde fort about 10 miles to the east of here, so the ravine must end before then.  We’ll simply sneak by it if we have to.”

“Fantastic,” came the shadow priest’s response as the two turned and began to make their way along the edge.  

Ever since the fire in the encampment, the two had been on the move, trying to find the prophet first in order to bring it into the Alliance fold.  Ignat had also been obsessed with recovering the magical bag that had been stolen from him during the distraction.  Unsure if the prisoners or that wretched Ter’vona had been the one to take it, he was fairly sure that finding one would turn up the other.  He was also glad for the small magical device he had had sewn into the paladins boots.  It was a poor attempt at being able to track him once he had been returned to the Horde, allowing him to gather intelligence on the other faction.  Usually prisoners were screened when returned for such cheap tricks.  

But since they had made their escape, Ignat had been able to regularly scry successfully for the device, knowing that the paladin at least was making steady progress back into the mountains of the northern fjord.  As they had made their way further and further into the foothills themselves, the mage had become more and more furious at the situation, feeling the drawbacks of his small stature and frame beginning to take their toll in the hard hiking.  Finnegal had sat through at all quietly, allowing the gnome to vent his fury while simply nodding or taking in the scenery.  However, within his anger seethed with hatred at the elf who had dared to attack him.  Anger at himself for allowing this transgressor to live, in spite of Ignat showing up at the wrong moment.

This was a mistake he intended to correct the next time he met up with the blood elf filth.

* * * * *

Spiders flitted among the shadows as the long dead thing placed the large sapphire within the metal lattice work half enclosing the perfect sphere of gold that floated in a dark corner of it’s laboratory.  Nodding as it noted the magical thread that seemed to spring along the filigreed decoration from the precious gem, the lich floated over to the animal cages hiding the western wall of his private dominion, grabbing a kicking rabbit by the scruff and returning to the device.  With a thought, he felt the tips of fingers growing into long, razor sharp claws before he suddenly flicked up and ran the tip from the animal’s collar down to it’s groin, relishing in the screams of pain emitted from the small creature as it struggled in it’s death throes.

Blood welled from the mortal wound and dripped onto the sapphire, thickening almost instantly then disappearing as it was sucked into the azure gem.  The lich smiled as he saw the metal surrounding the precious stone began to grow ruddy then turn a deep crimson in response to the life essence flowing through it.  The rabbit kicked feebly as it finally gave up the ghost and lich tossed the body aside, leaning forward and whispering words of power to ball of gold in the middle of the metal working, watching carefully as a thin ribbon of power flowed from the sapphire into the sphere, which suddenly turned a deep black color before beginning to resolve into a picture.

The lich’s eyes burned with cold hatred as Dueg, Reyk, Scrat and Noxt all came into view within the blacked metal.  Using magical scrying methods it quickly noted their location in the realm and saw that they were traveling much lighter than they should have been for such a long and dangerous mission.  After a few minutes, the picture wavered and slowly dissipated, the life essence of the rabbit too small to keep the magic working for very long.  The thing had all the information it needed for the moment though, vowing to find a more worthy sacrifice to feed the sapphire next time.  After all, it was going to take a lot of power cast a killing spell through the ball itself.



Saturday RP – Strangers

The Lich came flying in, his eager head low with intensely glowing eyes as it smelled the blood of it’s enemy’s flowing through their veins.  The rictus smile of death on it’s face seemed to grow even wider as fel magics began to course through it’s arms, causing it’s hands to glow with a deathly pale light.  Reyk dug his feet in and raised his sword to the threat, prepared to sell his life dearly as Dueg prayed for fortitude against their coming trial and Scrat pulled a small, intricately carved totem from his pack.  The three stood defiant before death’s agent, prepared for the worst.

Suddenly a huge, dark shape shot from the edge of the clearing.  A blur of black and blue with a sword easily as tall as Dueg’s shoulders, the massive shape bared down on the rushing lich, slicing in with a powerful stroke.  From behind where it had just appeared, a bolt of flame shot over the shape’s shoulder, flaring against the lich and setting it’s tattered robes alight.  Thrown off course by the sudden attack from it’s side, the lich was forced to circle around and back up, raising it’s defenses against the whole of the suddenly bolstered group facing it.  The massive dark shape stopped it’s mad rush and instead set into a defensive stance, it’s sword slowly winding back and forth in a defensive pattern through the air.

The shape resolved itself into a massive tauren, it’s matted fur the blue-black color of a nasty bruise and it’s eyes lit by the cold powers of the grave.  The heavy plate armor it wore could not hide the signs of decay that had begun to creep along the tauren’s withering skin and face.  From behind the defensively crouched form of the tauren a small, lithe figure slipped from between the tree trunks, the long, upward pointing ears betraying her blood elven background as her hand weaved an intricate pattern into the air, forming another ball of green, lambent fire.  The two faced off against the lich as the three still conscious companions turned to face the threat in a unified manner.

The lich paused, recalculating it’s odds now with the new additions to the fray and deciding that the time had come to make a tactical retreat.  With a rageful shout of defiance, the lich suddenly folded it’s still smoldering robes around itself and began to shrink within the center of itself.  After a second, it disappeared with a small, fizzling pop, leaving behind the scent of rotten eggs and sulfur and allowing the clearing to finally regain a normal temperature.  The tauren snorted and sheathed his mammoth sword while the blood elf allowed her ball of hellish fire to gently fade away.  She turned and gave a quick curtsy at the three still somewhat bewildered companions.

“Serae Lightwill at your service, travelers, and no thanks necessary, we help out where we can,” she said with a broad smile.  The tauren suddenly raised his head, sniffing at the air and then eagerly padding off to the edge of the clearing, crouching down and examining the bottom of the tree trunks.  Serae screwed up her delicate features in a quick look of annoyance before sighing gently, “That rotting hunk of meat is my personal bodyguard, Ayunn, a reprieved knight from Arthas’ now defunct order.”

“A Death Knight?” exclaimed Reyk as his eyes looked over to the still crouched tauren who was running his meaty fingers through the various sprigs of plant life growing through the underfoot of the forest, “I thought all of Arthas’ fallen heroes had rebranded themselves and were in a campaign to destroy the Betrayer, why is this one in your employ?”

“Most did, it’s certainly true, but not all still burned for combat and wished to take the fight to the doorstep of Icecrown.  Some, like my dear Ayunn over there, decided that their unlife was their own to do with as they please.  So he left the order and eventually we met up.  He was wondering aimless and a beautiful young merchant such as myself can certainly use the extra protection when out peddling her wares to the frontier settlements of Northrend.”

“Most merchants don’t know how to corral the hellish fires of demons like you certainly did,” Dueg said as he eyed her suspiciously.

The petite blood elf woman folded her arms across her chest and frowned severely, “Perhaps you would have preferred we simply minded our own business?  Maybe walked on by with our noses in the air?  Talk about looking a gift Hawkstrider in the beak.”

Dueg stammered slightly, taken aback, “uh… well, I…”

Scrat quickly stepped forward, “Be not worrying, about ‘im, you ‘ave our gratitude,” he said, extending a three fingered hand to her.

Suddenly her eyes went wide as she stared at the indigo digits held out for her and took a step back, “Assault!  Robbery!” she began to scream.

Now it was Scrat’s turn to step back, quickly pulling his arm back to his side and stammering an apology.  Ayunn looked up from the tree trunks, dropping the flowers he had been collecting and snorting as he barreled back across the clearing, drawing his sword once more.  Within seconds he stood between Serae and the three bewildered companions, his eyes glowing fiercely and his sword held defensively between them.  Ayunn’s cold, dead eyes scanned all three of them, waiting for one of them to go on the attack so he would have a reason to attack.  One of Serae’s small, delicate hands appeard from behind him, gently patting one of his massive arms.

“It’s ok, Ayunn, simply a drill.  You did marvelously.”  The tauren looked behind him to her then snorted in obvious annoyance, re-sheathing his weapon and stepping aside as Serae came forward once more.  “Sorry about that, my friends, but one has to keep their security sharp on on their toes, or hooves as it were.  And now, we must be going, need to be in Venomspite by tomorrow afternoon in order to drop off a shipment of alchemical supplies.”

Serae reached over, taking Ayunn’s proffered hand and placing a slippered foot on his knee as she swung up to delicately sit upon his shoulder and look down at the three and their unconscious mage.  “Was truly a pleasure meeting all of you, hope to do it again sometime, but without the lich, eh?”  She patted Ayunn gently on the head,  “Let’s go, no time for distractions and this time watch out for low hanging branches and no stopping for flowers!  I swear, we’re going to be late if I have to indulge…”

Slowly her voice faded as the three looked at each other and shrugged, unsure of the whole bizarre encounter that had just occurred.  Quickly they cleaned up the camp and placed the unconscious form of Noxt onto his bedroll to give him time to recover from the mental intrusion wrought on him by the lich.  Once they had him settled, they quickly doused the fire so as to not betray their position again and began to gather up their packs in order to be ready to move the moment Noxt had recovered.  It was then that they noticed that all of their supplies had been stolen.



Monday RP – A Chill

So since real life got in the way and I wasn’t able to make n RP post yesterday, I decided to make one today.  For anyone expecting a usual post, sorry about that, but I do enjoy the RP aspect of the game and I had this idea all ready to go, so I figured what the hell.  Don’t worry, I’ll get back to business as usual tomorrow.  Till then, please enjoy the newest chapter:

A Chill

The wind whistled past Dueg’s ears, carrying his hair up over his head as he fell further and further into the darkened ravine.  His three companions were still yards above him, descending slowly after Dueg had placed a levitate spell upon them, but he wished to enjoy this sensation a little longer.  The exhilaration of the descent always made his heart soar with wonder at the fragility of existence.  The idea that this could end with his demise, but that a simple cantrip learned as an initiate in the order would stop that.  A smile played across his lips.

He watched below him as the abomination who had cause the destruction of their bridge crashed into the swiftly flowing river and then get clubbed by the hollowed out log.  A moment after both were, gone, the swiftly flowing current drawing them under the surface and shuffling them to what would likely be their final destination.  Dueg nodded with satisfaction and flipped around once more before raising a hand to his chest to focus his prayer.  Levitate, he whispered gently, feeling the buoyancy of the light flow through his soul, slowing his fall.

Gently he floated down till he stood a yard or so above the churning surface of the water.  He looked up, seeing that the three other members of his party would take a few more minutes still to arrive.  Taking stock of the situation, Dueg pulled the small cloth map of Northrend from his pack and began examining the blighted area they had just fallen from, attempting to discern their present location.  He was still floating there quietly when Reyk landed next to him.

“So, where are we then?”  Reyk gently floated over to peer at the map Dueg was holding as Scrat and Noxt made it to the river’s surface next to them.

“We stand a few kilometer’s north of where this river branches into the foothills of the mountain chain where the Forsaken Oracle is supposedly hiding.  If we start moving now we shouldn’t lose more than a few hours in our journey.”

The four nodded and began to move, floating over the water as the made their way along the channel and keeping their eyes pointed to the chasm walls in case of ambush or attack.  After an hour of almost no movement along the walls except for the occasional bird, Noxt once more began to lapse into conversation speaking of his past missions of infiltration against the Alliance.  After another hour, even he grew quiet, the crashing sound of the water flowing against the sides of the chasm once more becoming the only noise.  Time flowed slowly as the four simply floated along until finally the sound of crashing water began to grow louder.

They soon came to the branch off of the river, moving onto a large island formed from one of the final foothills of the Grizzly Hills area.  They moved off the shoreline, scouting a small portion of the island wherein they soon made camp, having lost most of the night and part of the morning to their forced march from Naxxramas’ curse fields.  After casting a few simple wards and downing some dried biscuits and water, the four retired to their tents for a few hour’s sleep with Noxt set to guard duty.  Dueg awoke about an hour later.

The first thing he noticed was his breath, visible in the suddenly chilled air.  The temperature was easily twenty degrees cooler than when he had gone to sleep earlier.  It was then that he noticed his bedroll had a very light layer of frost over it as well.  Quietly he slipped out from the blankets, sure now that this was not a natural cold.  He noted that there was now darkness outside, sure that he hadn’t slept so long for the sun to completely pass through below the horizon.  He gently leaned forward, pulling back the tent flap in order to peer out into the center of the tents, noticing Noxt sitting in the middle of them, staring blindly forward.

“Noxt, certainly you must notice this temperature change,” whispered Dueg, “why did you not awaken us?”

The undead mage simply sat in silence, staring forward at the dense forest.  Dueg felt sure something was wrong.  “Noxt, answer me.”

Reyk’s tent flap was drawn back now and Dueg could hear shuffling from Scrat’s as well.  Noxt continued to sit in silence, still as stone and unresponsive.  Dueg slipped from his tent slowly, his eyes scanning the trunks around him for any sign of movement in the suddenly murky and shadowed forest.  Reyk, sword in hand, came out from his tent, looking to the forest as well.  He had only been able to don a light mail shirt breeches however, wanting to be ready for anything sooner than his plate would allow.  Before a few moments longer, Scrat was also emerging from his tent, moving to the silent mage waving a hand in front if his eyes.

“The grave calls you home, Duegathalas…” came a deep, deathly voice, “twice you have escaped it’s chilling embrace.  I can read it on your soul…”

“‘Dis be no good mojo, mon,” whispered Scrat gripping his mace tightly as he stood, joining the other two in scanning the trees.

“Who are you, spirit, that you would address us and incapacitate our friend?” Dueg called, calling his defensive spells to mind and holding his staff in a guarded position in front of him.

“He is your new master!” yelled Noxt suddenly as he dived forward, yanking Reyk’s sword from his hand and kicking out, throwing Dueg to the ground with a well placed strike to the back of his knee.  As Dueg tumbled, Scrat dodged back, crouching defensively and beginning to whisper words of voodoo.  Dueg rolled aside to dodge a slash aimed wildly for his chest as Reyk moved within Noxt’s arm range, darting in and drawing him into a headlock, trying to make him drop the sword.  The decrepit mage reached up, grabbing at the rings of Reyk’s armor, taking a fistful and calling out an arcane word.

Reyk was forced to dance back as Noxt’s hand began to glow with fiery heat, causing the mail to become superheated, burning into Reyk’s chest.  Meanwhile, Scrat had finally finished his spell and in that moment, Noxt disappeared in a small puff of smoke.  Standing in his place was a large, rather displeased looking toad.  However, in that moment, Dueg had seen what needed to see, his trained eyes picking out the subtle tendril of magic weaving it’s way into the mage’s brain.  He reached down, picking up the transformed mage and waved his hand through the arcane weave, whispering a rayer to the light to break the magical hold.  The frog immediately slumped, it’s eyes closing as the trauma of the invasion caught up to it’s mind.  As Dueg placed it on the ground, it transformed back into the form of the mage, though he remained unconscious, spread out on the ground.

“You have broken my toy,” came the voice once more, a shape beginning to resolve itself from the gloom.  Black, rotting robes hung from a gently floating form, it’s hands hidden in the folds of it’s sleeves.  A dark cowl completely encased the face of their attacker in darkness as it moved forward, the chill intensifying with it’s proximity.  “You will pay for that.  Once I have destroyed you fools, I will make your bones dance for my amusement.  And once I grow tired of that I will raise you to foot soldiers in the glorious Lich King’s army.  A fate better than what you deserve, wretches, but I am feeling generous today.”  The lich pulled back it’s dark cowl to reveal a bleached skull with burning eye sockets.  “Come then, let us play.”


Posts with the Mosts

Tell me how awesome I am!

Beat the rush and send me an e-mail at: It's good to have heroes.