Honor and Glory

[mosher94]

Going to write a story as a kind of bio for my next upcoming character! Hope you guys and gals like it.
It's my first try at this.

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Chapter I – Death and Destruction


It was hot, unbearably so, as the weary soldiers stared in the face of their doom. Long fighting – trying to gain control of a land not meant to be tamed. To all sides of the legion were mountains – mountains that kept them from escaping this cursed land. Underneath, the cracked black soil seethed. The great Doom Lord sat upon his throne, looking down upon the tiny beings.
“Why have you come here, puny mortals? All you shall find is death and destruction!” yelled the great being, whose command bellowed through the entire region. The nearby legions of demons waited anxiously, prepared to rip apart the force with all the force in their unnatural limbs. A single human walked forward, whose golden armor shone even through the black clouds that boiled overhead. Drawing his sword, pointing its blue steel at the Doom Lord, he yelled to the monstrous beast. “We come here to end the Legion’s reign! We come here so that the future of our people will be insured! So that our world will live to see the end of time! And, Doom Lord, yes, we will find death. We will find destruction. But, Light willing, we will see your decrepit corpse amongst the dead! We will see our body destroyed! You die today, Doom Lord. The beginning of the end of the Burning Legion is at hand!” The human turned his back to the Doom Lord, whose face knew nothing but fury, and called to his troops. “Join my attack, men, for there will be no greater honor than ending this despicable monster’s reign!” With that, the human rushed off and struck the first blow against the Burning Legion, driving his sword deeply into the Doom Lord’s leg.

Hours had passed; the Doom Lord still fought on, his strength never faltering. Around him, his allies – his friends – lay dead or dying; the legion that he had so proudly commanded that day was over half dead. His oldest and greatest friend, a priest named Lowski Viark, lay on the black ground. He wasn’t moving; Zak assumed him dead. His greatest rival and enemy, too, lay on the ground, dead. He himself felt close to death. Every blow he struck against the madly powerful Doom Lord, he felt himself growing weaker and weaker, much of his power already drained. But then he felt the Doom Lord’s attack falter; it didn’t strike him as powerful as it usually did. Zak Criome felt hope: maybe they would prevail, after all. He drove on with the remainders of his strength, and soon the Doom Lord fell to the ground, dead. Zak, who cheered, fell unconscious. He had strange dreams – dreams of demons and light and darkness, and a whispering voice – “Come… Come to me, little one… Come to the grand and ancient city… Come to-“ Zak awoke before it ended.


He found himself in the infirmary – he himself felt fine, if a little drained. The healers saw him trying to get him up, and attempted to put him back down.
“I am fine! I must go outside,” Zak yelled in frustration.
“You cannot move yet, soldier! You are injured,” the healer replied soothingly.
“There are plenty that are more injured than I. Tend to them. I must go down, now, and you cannot stop me, healer.” Zak pushed by him and walked down the stairs, to the bottom level. The near-empty inn. Going outside, he spotted Danath Trollbane talking to a couple sergeants near the eastern gate. Jogging down despite his injuries, he attempted to catch Trollbane’s attention, overhearing some of their conversation in the process.
“Sir, we need to push into Terokkar and Zangarmarsh now. Those regions should be relatively easy to conquer; there is no Legion activity, and we already have the small towns of Allerian and Telaar. They just need reinforcing!” one sergeant was telling to the other.
“No, no, no, we need to completely eradicate the fel orc presence at Hellfire Citadel before we can push out an reinforce the outlying regions.” Danath shook his head in frustration, tired of the bickering of the sergeants. “Ah, Captain Zak. We were discussing how to proceed, now that Hellfire has been, for the most part, cleansed. Any suggestions, captain?” Zak scratched his head, and directed a question at the sergeant who wanted to completely clear out Hellfire. “How much of Hellfire Citadel still holds fel orc forces?”
“Well, sir, only the Shattered Halls – Kargath’s own stronghold – but its forces are still innumerable!” the captain said in a low yell.
“We could just send a couple legions to hold the outside face of the Citadel – then we could starve the orcs out,” Criome suggested.
“Well, I – “ Sergeant Number Two started to say, but he was cut off by three demonic soldiers who were traipsing up the path to Honor Hold.
“Men! Eastern gate! Contact!” Danath yelled, then rushed down to meet the advancing soldiers. As the guards rushed over, a massive crash sounded at the northern wall. A gaping hole was now in it, and Reavers and Soldiers poured through. At least a hundred. Zak saw the approaching horde, and called down to Danath. “Sir! We have an army attacking our northern wall! They’re pouring through!” Danath didn’t hear him; he was busy slaughtering. Zak cursed. “Come, men! We need to fight these curs off!” Zak ran over to the incoming wave of black death, and so followed several guards.
“Glory to the Alliance!” Zak yelled, before drawing his blade and sinking it into the neck of the nearest Reaver.

End of Chapter I
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I'd appreciate your feedback so far

[Garots]

It's cool, but please use spacing

---------- Post added 06-23-2010 at 08:50 PM ----------

Also, this could be on the RP-only threads.

[mosher94]

I did, it didn't transfer well from Word


Going to write chapter two out, then...

[Renshe]

notepad ftw :P

[mosher94]

Chapter II – Reassignment

The fighting of yesterday was over. It had left a massive impact on the soldiers stationed at Honor Hold, however; a good half of the guards had been killed, and they hadn’t even pushed onto Outland proper. Zak was wandering around the infirmary, tending to the wounded as best he could.
Leaning over a corporal who had had his leg broken in twenty different places, he heard the door open behind him.
“Cpt. Criome! You are being reassigned. Despite the fact that we need able-bodied men like you to stamp out the Legion and the remnants of the Illidari, apparently Arthas,” he spit the name “has attacked Orgrimmar and Stormwind. You’re part of the Valiance Expedition now, captain, and they’ll need you there.” Danath saluted Zak and then headed out towards the barracks, where he would no doubt be having strategic discussions with his “advisors.” Zak shook his head, headed down for the gryphon’s stable, and purchased one heading for the Stair of Destiny – The Dark Portal.

As his gryphon raced over the baked and mutated landscape, he saw that the Legion forces assaulting the Dark Portal had diminished. Indeed, the pit lord that commanded them was even gone. He landed at the Alliance camp located there, then ran into the portal; it made walking into a gaping maw of black and green less scary. He arrived on the other side, where he found barely a presence of military. Just a Horde general and two Alliance advisors. Traipsing down the stairway, he asked one of the draenei that was here what was going on. “Well, captain,” the draenei started, “all of our forces have either gone to Northrend or Outland. However, there is a caravan heading to Nethergarde Keep – a mage there will be able to teleport you to Stormwind, where the icebreakers are nearing completion.” Zak thanked the draenei, nodded at the orc, and then mounted a stabled charger. Riding through a crack in the massive crater that contained the imposing Portal, he soon found the dust-caked and broken road. Gazing up into the thunderheads that were quickly accumulating above, he whipped his steed and went off at a gallop, riding towards the faint outline of Nethergarde Keep in the distance.

“Hail! Stop yer steed, pal!” yelled a dwarf who was guarding the entrance to the Keep. Zak’s charger fell to a trot, and stopped all together when he reached the dwarf guard.
“What be yer business here, paladin?” he asked, keeping one hand on a sword that was resting in its sheath on his hip.
“I require transportation to Stormwind via mage portal. I’m being reassigned to the Valiance Expedition.”
“Ah, yer goin’ up north to fight the Lich King, eh, lad?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then,” the dwarf started, then peered behind him, spotted a mage, and called him over. “’Ey, Danicus, get over ‘ere! This lad needs a portal up to Stormwind.”
“I can do that, Durak,” the mage said, “but I will be accompanying you. I must speak to the king.” Zak nodded, and waited patiently as Danicus opened the portal. About halfway through, a guard strode up to the small group. “Hey, Durak, you’re being reassigned. You n’ about half the other guards here are goin’ to Stormwind, gonna join up with the Valiance Expedition,” he said. Durak spit into the dust, and muttered, “Of course…”
Danicus finished his portal, and an image of Stormwind now filled the transparent oval. Danicus strode through it calmly, and then went Durak. He paused for a moment, hesitating. “Ay, I hate portal travel. Oh well. See you there, lad!” and jumped through. Zak followed him, stepping into the portal, and arriving at the Mage Tower in Stormwind. He quickly went through the portal that led him downstairs, and walked quickly down the thin path that led to the ground. There, he found Durak, who was waiting for him.
“Let’s go, Durak,” Zak said to the dwarf. Durak nodded, following the paladin. As they approached the harbor, a beggar came up to them. “Please, sirs, might I have but a copper? I need it… I must feed my family…” he said, looking down. “Ay, shoo ye wee pest.” Durak made a shooing gesture. Zak flipped the man a silver coin, to Durak’s disapproval and the beggar’s thanks. As they walked down the harbor ramp, they were tersely greeted by the guards, who told them to get to the icebreaker quickly if they expected to make it to the Howling Fjord. “Like we want to…” Durak muttered. But they started to jog anyway, passing onto a pier that held the imposing icebreaker. They were stopped by two guards, who checked their identification, and gave them a quick salute before continuing up into the ship proper.

“Ay, where are our quarters, I wonder?” Durak asked himself. Zak just shrugged. “We should find the captain,” he suggested to the dwarf. The dwarf nodded in agreement, and they went off to find the captain of the ship.

They climbed up the ladder to where the wheel was, and then they found the captain – a hard-ass named Delicoure. “Captain! You know where our quarters our?” Zak asked the captain, who was busy, figuratively, ripping apart a sailor. The interruption was welcome to the small sailor, who scurried off.
“Blasted idiots!” Delicoure yelled. “Um, sir, where are our quarters?” Zak asked the captain, uncomfortable. “Bottom deck, paladin. Be warned, though. Get up for air often. Don’t wanna be down there in the depths all journey long. Ay! We’re leaving! Finally!” Delicoure gave a shout, and the ship was off. Zak sat on the railing, looking back at the quickly fading Stormwind Harbor. It was going to be a helluva journey.
End of Chapter II

---------- Post added 2010-06-24 at 06:17 PM ----------

Eh, I prefer Word even if it is difficult to use sometimes. Notepad is too simple for my taste :P

---------- Post added 2010-06-25 at 05:42 PM ----------

Will update Soon; I have the next part started but WC3 is calling right now...

[mosher94]

Chapter III – The Shores of Northrend

Through the long an arduous journey, the Alliance fleet chugged on. An icebreaker and two wooden vessels had been destroyed so far. But there it was… The fjord. As they rode into the harbor, all was peaceful… calm, even.
“Ay, Zak, pretty calm out in here. I woulda thought we’d have a welcoming committee…” Durak commented.
“I expected one too. We’ll see what happens.”
“Ay, lad, I guess we will…” Durak started to say, but was cut off by a massive crash. Flaming spears were raining down upon the worn and tired fleet!
“BATTLESTATIONS MEN!” Zak roared. He leaped onto one of the gnomish cannons that were on board, aimed… and fired. The shell roared through the air, meeting its demise when it hit a stone fortress.
“What in the?” Durak stood, confused, as he looked at the stone fortress. It wasn’t Scourge design… And those weren’t Scourge! “Zak, them aren’t Scourge!”
“Ay, I noticed! They’re giant men!” Zak yelled back to him while he reloaded his cannon. Around him, the other guns open fired on the giant’s forces. Around them, flaming spears hit the metal icebreaker, killing several. The icebreaker continued to chug along, eventually coming to rest against the only piece of land that wasn’t a sheer cliff.
“Go, go, go!” yelled the captain, who was ushering people off. Zak wasted no time, grabbing his shield on the way out. He leaped onto the shore; covered himself; but the giant’s assault had ended.
“Peasants! Start building fortifications. We need to be able to hold off… Oh hell! Soldiers, defend the peasants! We cannot fall!” Zak yelled, running forward to meet the giant’s attack. Behind him, the rest of the soldiers – footmen, knights, riflemen, priests, the like – followed him into the battle. To his right stood Durak, faithfully fighting next to him. His axe was a blur as it cut through countless giants; Zak was more content with holding the attention of several.
“Ay, lad, need some help over there?” called Durak, who was busy taking on two of the raging giants.
“Nay, Durak, but thanks for asking,” Zak laughed as he swung his blade, delivering a deep gash into a giant warrior’s arm. Then, from above, came a cry – nearly inhuman, but it had a touch of sentience. Zak couldn’t make out what language it was in – if it was a language at all. But the giants retreated, falling back to the cover of the woods. Zak, taking the opportunity, slammed the hilt of his sword down on the head of a giant, rendering him unconscious. Zak grabbed him by the arms, and Durak got his legs when he saw what Zak was doing.
“Ay, a prisoner. Good thinkin’, lad,” Durak grunted to Zak over the immense weight of the giant. They brought him to the center of the budding camp, where Force Commander Rodal immediately took over.
“What’s this beast doing in my camp, soldier?” Rodal asked angrily.
“Prisoner, sir.” Durak stripped the giant’s weapons and armor off of it, rendering it near naked, except for a loincloth.
“I wonder if it can understand Common?” Rodal asked himself. He poured a bucket of cold sea water over the giant, waking it up.
“You! Beast! Can you understand me?” Rodal asked, punctuating “You” and “beast” with blows to the face. The giant growled.
“Aye, pitiful human. I am a rune master. I met Arthas on his journey through this cursed land. I am Skarval,” said the giant, surprising everyone with his ability to understand and speak Common.
“What are you?” Rodal asked in slight amazement. The rune master chuckled.
“If you mean by race, we are the vyrkul – creations of the Creators. One of the forefathers of this world…”
“The vyrkul, eh? Well, Skarval, why is your race attacking ours?”
“The one true king commanded it, human. You know who.” And then Skarval lit a fire rune, casting a circle of fire around himself. “Goodbye, human. I have told you all you need to know.” He disappeared in a pillar of fire, extending high into the air. And then, the onslaught of vyrkul started again, and the already beaten-down soldiers of the Alliance rushed to meet them.

End of Chapter III

---------- Post added 2010-06-26 at 05:13 PM ----------

All right, starting the next section. Will be up soon for those that are following this.

---------- Post added 2010-06-26 at 06:10 PM ----------

Chapter IV – The Push to Utgarde

The hastily-constructed fortifications were holding now, and a steady supply chain was in place to Stormwind. Ships were constantly flowing into Valgarde, as it was called, and the constant vyrkul attacks were being held off – barely, but being held off.
“Ay, lad,” Durak called to Zak as he sat near his tent, sharpening his axe.
“Durak.” Zak waved as he continued on to where a large group of soldiers was forming. The footman leading the group, a lieutenant named Dalforth, turned to greet him. “Criome. Good to see that you’re heading with us on this. You are coming with us, aye?”
“Yes, sir,” Zak responded, saluting.
“Good. We’re heading out in a couple of minutes. We’re going to break through the vyrkul attacks and head for this ridge over here.” Dalforth pointed a small path that lead up to a bridge. “Then we’ll break through the entrance here, where the inner part of Utgarde Keep, as it’s called, is found. We’ll then push upwards and attempt to kill Ingvar, the leader of the vyrkul in the Howling Fjord. That clear?”
“Yes, Lieutenant Dalforth.” Zak walked over to his tent – located next to Durak – and grabbed his sword and shield. Strapping them on, he motioned to Durak. “We’re mounting an assault on the keep up there – Utgarde. You coming?”
“Ay, I’d love to. Alas, I’ve been stationed on the gate – defending from those cursed vyrkul.”
“Too bad. I’ll – hopefully – see you again… depending on the outcome of this assault. Goodbye, Durak.” Zak gripped Durak’s meaty forearm and pulled him close in a brotherly hug. “Ay, lad, get goin’ before I shed a tear. Wouldn’ want that, eh?” Durak laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Zak walked over to the attack group, and they set off.

As soon as they left the safety of Valgarde’s walls, a massive attack force of vyrkul met them. Zak left the safety of the center and lobbed off a vyrkul’s left hand before it turned on him, swinging its massive axe with such speed and accuracy. He brought his shield up and – just barely – deflected the blow, but he would have a massive bruise on his forearm in a few hours. That blow was the most powerful he had ever sustained, except maybe the Doom Lord’s. Zak continued to fight, however, striking with accuracy and strength. He had soon felled the massive vyrkul, moving on to slay another. Amidst the growling, snarling, and indecipherable howls, wolves moved forward, tackling soldiers in the back of the defending force. Zak himself was tackled by one. It was trying to bite out his neck, and Zak was trying to beat its skull in with the hilt of his sword. Managing to deflect the wolf’s bite with his greave, he kicked upwards – right into a very sensitive spot. The wolf whined and Zak managed to thrust his blade into the wolf’s heart. He kicked it off, and drove his sword through a vyrkul’s neck, who was busy fighting another footmen. The vyrkul forces were diminishing now – many were dead. Then a howl came from above, in Utgarde, and they fell back to the safety of the trees. Zak immediately fell to help the wounded, binding wounds and easing pain. He was exhausted… and they had barely left Valgarde. A good quarter of the original attack force lay on the ground, dead, decaying in the cold sun.
“This ain’t good,” muttered Dalforth, who was bleeding profusely.
“Sir! Let me see those wounds,” Zak called as he jogged over, eyeing the river of blood streaming from Dalforth.
“Ay, I’m fine, Criome. Heal the ones that are in real danger.” Dalforth shooed him away. Zak sighed and kept healing the wounded, until he fell to the ground with exhaustion. They set up camp there, right outside of Valgarde. A little pathetic, really…

In the morning, the ones that were able to continue continued. That was around 2/3s of the original group. Trudging up the slim path, they reached the top, where they could clearly see a lightly-defended entrance to the Keep. Dalforth motioned for them to stop.
“All right, men. Criome here,” Dalforth motioned to Zak, “will be leading the initial attack against those three or four vyrkul guarding the entrance. I’d say ten men will suffice. The rest of you will rush in past them, and we’ll set up camp right in the entrance to the inner Keep. Is that clear?” A resounding “YES, SIR!” came forth, and the thirty or so men rushed forward, with Zak in the front.
Zak was in the thick of the skirmish, desperately blocking and attacking. These vyrkul… they were the strongest he’d ever encountered. Already, half his attack force had been slain – only him and four others remained, with only two vyrkul killed. Up ahead, Dalforth’s force was barely holding the line as waved of vyrkul came, one after the other, to meet his forces. Zak twirled around, and his blade bit deeply into the vyrkul’s neck. It keeled over, dead, and he turned to the last one. It was weakening, certainly, but it still just cut one of his troops in half. Jumping onto its shoulders, he drove it up at an angle, driving it into its brain. He jumped off and pulled his sword out as the vyrkul lay dead on the floor.
“C’mon, soldier, that was good fighting. We got to help out Dalforth now, though.” The footmen nodded and followed Zak, who drove his sword into the spine of vyrkul who was assaulting the camp.
“Dalforth! I’m here!” Zak called.
“Good, Criome. Where’s the rest of you?” Dalforth asked as he parried a blow.
“Dead, sir. Vyrkul are stronger than the ones that are assaulting our gates.”
“Aye they are, lad, aye they are.” There was no more talk. They needed focus. Zak was calling upon his power over the Holy Light, trying to keep others alive as they faltered under the unrelenting vyrkul assault. They never seemed to end… For every vyrkul that was slain, two more would take its place. Amongst them were undead vyrkul… the vargul, as Zak learned from the shouts. They were something like this – “Mghms vargul arghha!” as the vyrkul pointed at Zak. Slaying the vargul, Zak managed to kill another before the same unintelligible howl that he had now heard on three occasions sounded. The vyrkul backed off, then disappeared into the bowels of the Keep.
“Ay… I doubt we’ll make it far,” muttered a dwarf.
“Don’t be a pessimist,” Zak reprimanded him from behind. He was looking for Dalforth. Then he spotted him – lying on the floor, surrounded by five dead vyrkul. Zak ran over and fell to his knees, trying to find a breath. There was one – very small, very shallow. Then Dalforth spoke.
“Criome…” he groaned.
“Don’t talk, sir, I’ll save ya,” Zak said as he tried to bind his wounds.
“Don’t… try. I’m done. Listen… Criome. Ingvar must… be slain, or… we’ll never be able to… push out of… Howling Fjord… and the Lich King won’t… fall. Face him… now.” Dalforth reached up with his hand, then it fell back as his eyes glazed over. Then a tremendous howl was heard. Stepping forth was the most massive vyrkul any of them had seen. Strapped to his back was a mighty black axe, and he wore glistening plate armor. Zak realized, with a shock, it was blood.
“Ahaha. Puny children. You will learn to… respect your elders,” said the mighty vyrkul in his rumbling voice. Then he drew his axe, and charged Zak. Acting on instinct, Zak drew his shield, blocking the blow – just barely. Zak felt his forearm crack, and the duel that was so mismatched began.

End of Chapter IV

[mosher94]

Chapter V - Showdown with Ingvar



Pain – overwhelming pain. Zak fought with all the fury his beaten limbs could provide. But this Ingvar – this monster that contained the strength of earth in his limbs and the fury of fire in his eyes.

“Die, child! It shall be a quick death!” Ingvar cackled at the beaten Zak. He was on the floor… swimming through the pain. Around him, his fellow soldiers desperately held off the incoming vyrkul, but they would be overrun soon. Despite the Light that coursed through his veins – with a start, he realized it was no his lifeblood, not blood – he could not fend off the attacks.

“Light, give me strength!” Zak called, looking up, praying for a response. And, indeed, he got one. Around him, the air hummed. Flickers of light spun all around them. Then, a voice like a chorus of angels, like the best flute, that sounded like everything but nothing at the same time.

“Ingvar… today you pay for your crimes. Today you answer for the blood you have shed… The Lich King will make you a dralafi! Or, at least, as close as possible to a dralafi. Rise, Ingvar, and carry out the master’s will!” cried the “angel.” Zak cried out in despair as he realized that the being he had thought his savior was his enemy – a powerful one at that.

“And you, mortal… You will die here and now, to the wrath of the val’kyr.” A flash of light… an exploding pain… and then the world was no more.



Short chapter, I know, but I can't add anymore on to it yet! I'll update again later today.

---------- Post added 2010-06-27 at 11:44 PM ----------

Chapter VI – A New Life


“This one, necromancer,” said a chilling voice; it emanated death.
“Yes, instructor.” The necromancer started casting, and the corpse of Zak Criome rose off the ground, limp. The corpse then sat on the cold stone, kneeling down.
“Master… I hear him… calling… where am I?” Zak wondered with a start. There was a deep, inevitable pain in his gut. He hungered… but for what?
“This one will do, though he seems a little weak. Put on him the trappings befit of a herald of Arthas,” said the chilling voice. “I am Instructor Razuvious, death knight, and you are my new apprentice. Go to your master now.”
Zak felt no reason to disobey. “Yes, sir,” he muttered as he walked off to where an imposing figure stood, looking out over a human town. “You… have come… Zak,” said a deep, halting voice.
Before he could stop himself, he whispered, “Yes, master…”
“Excellent, my… knight. Go to… Razuvious so that… we might begin… the extermination of these… vermin.”
“Of course, master.” Zak stalked off, throwing angry glares at anyone who might stop to look at him. Reaching Razuvious, he asked for his assignment.
“Knight, you are to retrieve a blade from the weapon racks and imbue it with runes. Your emblazoned rune blade shall be your instrument of destruction. Go now!” Zak did as he was told. Getting a sword that felt right in his hands, he walked up to a runeforge and placed the blade inside of it. Dark energies surrounded it… it glowed with a blue hue after a couple minutes. Zak reached his hand inside and retrieved the ice-cold blade. Walking back to Razuvious, he muttered something unintelligible, and then spoke. “Knight, report to the Highlord on the lower floor. He will give you your next… assignment.” Zak wandered off to a teleporter. Stepping into its purple light, he felt himself moving… moving to a new life.
End of Chapter VI


Chapters'll be longer after this, I swear! :P

[mosher94]

Woke up really late today and had stuff to do... no time to update today. I will tomorrow, probably.

[boxxylol]

WOW!

excellent story

i wish i could write like you =(

[Mistress Elizabeth]

Woke up really late today and had stuff to do... no time to update today. I will tomorrow, probably.

No worries, you should take your time anyway! I at times been writing one entry over a few days :/ Most likely my next entry wont hit till friday which I'm angry about.

[mosher94]

WOW!

excellent story

i wish i could write like you =(

Thank you

Oh yeah, Elizabeth, when I saw you as the last poster I was like "Oh no " but then I saw you weren't ripping my story apart. :P

[Aramore]

When does Elizabeth ever rip apart anyone's stories?