A New Age [Colossal War RP]

[Black Mage]

The sun rises upon a new day, it's omniscient rays revealing all. With it, it brings the hopes and dreams of everything on the planet. Hopes become true, Dreams become reality under it's shining rays. The Lich King is dead, his end bringing a new age to Azeroth. In this time of prosperity and peace, a shadow lurks. The men and women in power see this as not only a time of peace, but a time of opportunity. The land is ravaged, the resources greatly depleted, and their enemys in the weakest state they have ever been. Opportunity arises, and with it, war will once again darken the face of Azeroth. The mighty alliance has begun rallying it's forces, intending to retake the once great kingdom formerly known as Loarderon. Responding to the threat, the Forsaken have called out to their allies, the Blood Elves, and have responded in kind. The world heaves with the marching of hundreds of thousands, the greatest ammasement of troops in history.

In peace, comes war. The war of a New Age.

((This is a private RP, only Elyaan, Saerwen and I may post here. Anyone else may post opinions, feedback, and battle strategies either in PM to one of us or to the discussion thread located HERE))

--------------

A chill northern wind howled atop the high peak where Azimuth stood, watching the rising sun shine its golden rays. A new day was rising, bringing with it a clear blue sky, the wind having blown away the somber overcast that had plagued the Northern reaches of the Eastern Kingdoms for days. His completly white eyes looked directly into the dazzling orange, unblinkingly. As he stood, mute, he heard footsteps approahing from behind. The strong, powerful constant pace told him that the approaching stranger was heavily armored, his plate boots making a metallic clink with every step. The figure stopped, several paces behind Azimuth, ans stood quietly, unmoving for several more seconds before announcing himself.

"So, Azimuth, is it as we fear?" the man asked in a powerful voice, his tone carrying with it inherited authority and power. With it, you could also hear the slightest amount of respect, but barely perceptible.

Azimuths' head slowly turned, his body following suite. "I am afraid so, King Varian. The Horde forces are ammassed a fortnight to the North, in the lowermost reaches of the Alterac Mountains. We will have to either retreat or engage."

Rage at the turn of events passed in Varian's eyes, but he remained calm and relaxed. Battle was coming sooner than he had expected, but that would not shake his determination. He was a man with a goal, and no amount of persuation would remove his iron glare from the prize.

"Are you sure?" he responded in a strained voice, making sure to not let his anger show to the old mage. Varian knew better than to release his anger at the messenger of truth. He knew that his anger was really directed at the enemy, and he would use it against such enemy.

Azimuth remained quiet for a few more moments before answering in a quiet voice "An army of over 30,000 strong has been ammassed, and I am certain that there are more to come."

Varian took a deep, calming breath his fists clenching shut for a moment. He was King for a good reason, thought Azimuth, for even if he was young, he knew well how to us his anger, and, more importantly, he cared deeply for his people. He did not like asking them to come with him on this campaign so soon after the fall of the Dark prince. But the chance was unique, and he had risen to the occasion.

"It matters not," he finally said, "We will have victory, it is our destiny."

Azimuth only nodded. There was going to be war, and it was going to bathe this world in blood.

[Deleted]

Behind the young Draenei were a long caravan, reaching all the way back to Southshore, where Xana and her forces had arrived by ship. The caravan was positioned in two rows with a minor passageway inbetween the carts, allowing for quick movement inside the forces. Wagons with bandages, potions, elixirs.. Crates of water, food, and everything else the minor movement of forces would need to sustain themselves for about a week. In the middle of the caravan, the carts carrying most of the passangers were located. Druids, Shamans and Priests alike, were sharing the same goal in this expedition - minoritize the damage done to the land and the living. Most of the armies were better off as peasents, then warriors. Yet the strained times required new ways of income, and being hired hands at the wages of war were sometimes the only option.
In the back of the caravan were open wagons with Wyverns and Gryphons, about 40 winged creatures total, where two were already in-use by outrunners sent out by Xana upon arrival at Southshore.

"Mistress Xana!" A young Nightelven druid began in a troubled voice, as she rode up next to Xana on her White Tiger. "Looking at our supplies, how are we supposed to take care of the wounded from either army? We barely have enough to sustain our own forces through this wartime, let alone a regiment of wounded soldiers!" Xana, who was riding a purple elekk, turned her head slowly towards the Nightelf. "I've sent out outrunners to the commanders of either force, they will be arriving at their camps later today with message of our arrival. I do hope they will see reason with our cause, and supply us with that wich we need, to take proper care of their wounded and fallen. For those vital supplies, we will keep in contact with both commanders, making sure they get the messages from the wounded soldiers. I do belive neither side are interested in seeing a genocide upon this soil, and the value of intelligence should be worth the supplies granted to our faction." A firm and confident smile slid upon Xana's lips, and was met with a content nod from the Druid. Yes, their mistress would take care of things here.. It wouldn't turn into the bloodbath so many feared.

As they walked on, it didn't take long before they reached the gate of Durnholde. Though the keep had been damaged in times past, the remaining walls would provide ample protection for the minor force Xana was travelling with. The keep was quite easy to spot in the distance, so Xana felt firmly safe from being attacked by mistake. "Alright! Send word through the caravan. I want the tents, huts and headquarters set up first, afterwards make sure you index tents for wounded alliance soldiers, and huts for the wounded horde. Huts to the north, tents to the south. The headquarters should be up on the overwatch. Get a move on!" Xana commanded to the officers that were riding alongside her in front of the caravan. Not too long after, the out-packing had commenced inside, and outside Durnholde.

Gathering at their logistics headquarters atop Durnholde overwatch, Xana met up with the commanders of her forces. "We'll need to know the moves of the horde and the alliance, so that we won't get caught in some unfortunate crossfire. I will need two volunteers to assign themselves with the horde- and the alliances commanders..." Not long after, a snow white Gryphon carrying the druid Nyriel Windwhisker was sent flying towards the alliance took off. The former Horde Orc Shaman Gormdak Bloodtooth took of on a tawny Wyvern, flying towards the horde forces..

"All we can do now, is settle down, and wait for the storm...

[ELYPOP]

Sylvanas sat there with a posture so sluggish, one would percieve it as boredom. The room that she sat within did nothing for her appearance either. The bleak yellow flame shone into the dark command room of the Tarren Mill barracks, as she rested upon the deadwood table infront of her. Valeth sat with a more upright position, infront of her, as his sight went from her to his many parchments which were spread upon the table.

"Do not act so depressed, Banshee Queen. The approapriate precautions have been taken. Outposts have been set up along Thoradin's Wall, and shall notify us of any Alliance enroachment. The edge of the Silverpine Forest has also been barricaded from any assault.", mused the Bloodmage, his crimson and gold colouring standing out within the depressing room.

"And what of Lor'themar?", she hissed.

"He shall be arriving within the next few days, as well as the rest of the Sin'dorei naval fleet. I do hope to see your own Forsaken Destroyers amongst our ships, my lady.".

"And they shall be, Valeth.", intervened Master Apothecary Faranell. He set his gaze upon Sylvanas. "My queen, the rest of the fallen humans from the Hillsbrad Fields have been sent off towards Tirisfal. We should hopefully be recieving extra support on the behalf of our fallen enemies within weeks. New shipments of plague have also arrived, for siege purposes.".

Valeth took interest in this turn of subject. Speaking louder in an attempt to get his point across, he spoke before Sylvanas could reply. She merely nodded at the apothecary's statement in return. "Lor'themar would surely need an area for his ships to dock and unload resources and units. What if we put your plague to use, and kill two mana wyrms with one fireball?". A smirk was drawn upon his face, as he paused for a moment. He stood up from his chair, as he began to circle the table. "Let us admit, that Southshore has been a thorn within our side. Surely, an Alliance attack would raise spirits within their miniscule community. Shall we, per say, level the town with the plague and use it as a point where we can dock our warships?".

A grin appeared upon Sylvanas's decaying face. It was not reminiscent of what she looked like when she lived, for it was now broken and greyed. "Very well, bloodmage.". She muttered, as her eyes turned to Faranell. "Bring down undeath upon them, and use their bodies as reinforcements. Southshore shall be ours.".

All that could be heard following this was maniacal laughter, as it echoed through the darkened room of the Tarren Mill barracks.

[Black Mage]

Both Azimuth and Varian walked in silence on their way back down the low peak on which they had stood. The frigid wind was partly buffeted by the face of the mountain, allowing both men a brief respite from the cold. As they approached a jagged cliff, the camp where resided the alliance army slowly began coming into view.

The army was gargantuan, almost beyond imagination. The orderly tents covered a enormous area, close to 3 square miles. A plethora of smells assailed Azimuth's acute smell as they began their descent on the steep hill that led down to the relatively dry part in the Wetlands, close to the great tunnels that made up the passage from whence they came. The smell of fresh bread, cooking meat and the fires on which they were grilled could easily be dissimilated. With the smells, came the faint noises of a waking camp, the rising sun bringing life to it. As they knew their enemy was still quite a distance away, there had been no precautions in case of a nightly attack apart from the few vigilant sentries. Of course, that would change now that they knew for sure of their enemies proximity.

As they arrived closer yet to camp, Varian spoke softly to Azimuth, "Old mage, could you send a message to one of your students and ask them to get my generals to assemble in my command tent? Make it quick please, I wish to get this troubling news amongst them as swiftly as possible."

Azimuth said nothing as he closed his eyes, sending the request through to his subordinant mage.

"It is done."

Varian only gave a nod as aknowledgement.

[ELYPOP]

Plague launchers circled around the lesser town of Southshore. It was in the dead of the night, as to avoid any detection. Once all had been prepared, the Forsaken let loose their weapon against the living. Barrels and canisters rained down upon the unsuspecting denizens of the town, as if it was merely a stormy day. In a matter of hours, the houses and buildings had been leveled, and any trace of corpses and bodies had been loaded up, on a caravan towards the Tirisfal Glades. No living remained, as the Forsaken moved in to clear up the mess, and to set up a decent area for their naval fleet to dock at.

Valeth oversaw the entire operation with Master Apothecary Faranell, from above a nearby hill. Green liquid poured through the streets, and the screams of death had become music to his ears. None survived. Hillsbrad had been claimed by the Horde. It was only a matter of time before the remaining survivors or refugees would be hunted down, and turned into the Forsaken.

____________________________________

"Banshee Queen, an Orcish visitor has arrived. He goes my the name of Gormdak Bloodtooth.", spoke the Forsaken Deathguard, as he entered the Tarren Mill command room.

Without turning her head to the announcer, she spoke in a sharp tone. "Show him in. Let us see what our Orcish ally wants.".

[Deleted]

Gormdak was shown in. The mighty Orchish shaman was wearing a battle-plate-mail from the old wars, showing his past services to the horde. On his back hang a dented Warmace. The Orc was old, and by his own people would be considered wise. As he entered, he made sure that he stood upright, like a true warrior would. "Blood and Thunder, Banshee Queen, I have come with a proposition. My commander, Mistress Xana, and her forces have set up their basecamp at Durnholde Keep, not far from here. We're a small and peaceful group, not geared for war. My mistress' intentions here are to minimise the damage your waging war will cause to the land, and its inhabitants, while securing the lives of those who can be spared the kiss of death. What our forces can provide the Banshee Queen with, remains information and salvation of your wounded forces. Precise information, like how many enemy soldiers were wounded in your skirmishes, and wich casualties your own forces suffered." Gormdak held a minor pause, only to let the words sink in properly. Then he continued. "What we request in turn for our services, are supplies and safeguarding from the reign of war. We're a small force, with limited resources. If we are to have any impact on this war, we'll need any food, water, bandages or medicine you can provide. We would also be interested in having a passageway to travel, that we may remain mobile and effective. The better our terms and foothold here, the better the treatment for your soldiers and intel on the battlefield for your commanders."


____________________________________________________

Xana's forces had managed to properly set up everything they would need at Durnholde. Around the walls incantations had been made, making a minor shield around the entire keep. This would make sure that it would take more than one stray attack to effect their operations. Though many had gone to sleep, suspecting nothing would happen this night, Xana was standing at the top of the overlook, glancing out over the horizon. The gentle light from the moon gave little to no sight, yet Xana had a feeling something had happened. Breathing calmly, Xana closed her hands into fists. This war, upon already broken lands, would cause nothing but harm, pain and chaos. Had they learned nothing from the war at Mount Hyjal?.. It was disgusting, pathetic and nothing but childish power-play.

___________________________________

Landing in the alliance camp, the snowwhite Gryphon gave out a sharp screech letting everyone know that a visitor had arrived. Nyriel dismounted, and awaited the nearest overlook to take contact. Nyriel was wearing a long feathered leather robe, and a cenarion inspired headdress. "Greetings."Nyriel spoke softly, before engaging into a respectful bow. "I come on behalf of my commander, Mistress Xana. I would like an appointment with your king, in regards to the warfare of Lordaeron."

[ELYPOP]

"I doubt you would have any valued information, orc. Your safety and that of your forces can only be guaranteed by remaining out of our way. Our supplies are scarce as it is, so you will not be recieving assistance in that form from us, or any form at all. You can remain in Durnholde for now, and remain alive, but if you tread in our path, you shall fall. The land which you so preciously wish to protect shall be plagued, and descecrated under my will.".

She now stood up, and faced the orc, approaching him slowly.

"Surely you would have learnt that mere healing of a shaman or priest cannot cure the wounds of a Forsaken, and the Blood Elves are self sufficient in their own right. Yet, tell your mistress this: If you stand against us, not only will you be slaughtered and the land scarred, but you will forever serve under my banner in undeath. Understood?".

She now turned her back to Gromdak once more, and moved towards her seat. She turned her head to the side for a split second to mutter something, before sitting back down.

"This is war, orc. You of all people should know of this.".

[Garots]

((I'll join in with my part when I return from work ))

[Black Mage]

((I'll join in with my part when I return from work ))

((Please read intro. It's closed. Sorry))

---------- Post added 2010-11-29 at 04:28 PM ----------

The heavy drape that covered the opening into the large command tent was opened once more, admitting a large man with a well-kept bear. He appeared to be in his late 50s, but full of vitality and strength for his age. The man sureveyed his entourage quickly before spotting the king and giving a half-bow; respectful, but not submissive.

Varian gave the man a small nod and allowed him to take place around the simple wooden table before rising, speaking up before the assembled men and women.

"I have bad news. The Horde has assembled a force and ammassed to the north of us, close to Tauren Mill." His eyes looked at each of the faces in turn while he spoke, making sure that the gravity of the situation was not missed. The battle-hardened men and women showed little to no reaction to this news. They had expected as much, as had the king. This was just confirmation of the fight to come.

"With this news," Varian went on, "we must prepare ourselves for the battle to come. Now, I and Azimuth have been speaking over the best course of action, and we would like your opinions. Do not be shy of speaking up. We will listen to all with reason in our minds."

With that, Varian sat, his part having been said. Azimuth, who had remained standing behind the king until that point, advanced a step, bringing himself beside the king's chair.

"The battle has commenced, and we must be ready to fight it along every possible front. That being said, our main objective shall be to get to the Arathi Refuge point. From there we can establish a well protected base. The Valley, as well as it's urrounding plins allow us a sure-fire way of protecting ourselves. Once there, General Baldwin," Azimuth paused, inclining his head to the man who had entered last, "Will begin establishsing an aviation base on the eastern side of the valley. Once that is done, our arriving forces from both Ironforge and Stormwind will bring with them a steady stream of reinforcements as well as our heavy artillery equipment. We may meet forces before then, but until we are at the refuge point, Thoradin's wall," Azimuth pointed to a large semi-circle line on the map in front of him, "will be the only thing in our way. The Horde shall fight to the death to stop us from passing. We must suceed."

Azimuth stopped, his eyes looking over each and everyone of them as had the king's only a few minutes before.

"Any objections?"

The assembly shook their heads, slowly, their minds still mulling over all the new information.

"Good," responded Azimuth, "Now, let's talk about our roles..."

As Azimuth finished, a scout ran into the tent, rushing over to the king and whispering a message in his ear. With that, Varian got up, and adressed the group. "There seems to be a messenger requesting my presence. Azimuth, carry on."

With that, Varian left the tent, Azimuth only nodding back.

[Deleted]

"Then you will face the consequenses Banshee Queen. You know as well as I what awaits you on the battlefield. Alas, you have chosen your path. Be careful not to destroy that wich you seek to claim." With that said, the Shaman bowed down graciously, before turning heels and returning to his Wyvern. Taking off, the Shaman was headed back towards Durnholde with the grim news.
___________________________________
"Greetings, King Wrynn." Nyriel said in a soft tone. "I'm Nyriel Windwhisker, and I have been sent ahead on behalf of my mistress, Xana. Currently we've set up a temporary base camp at Durnholde keep. Our interest in being here, is to protect as much life and land as we can, admist this reign of war. What we can offer you is assistance. Our forces are light and trained mainly in the ways of healing. We'll treat your wounded soldiers, and make sure any intelligence that they carry are brought to your commander's attention. What we require to do this, is supplies for your wounded. We've only really got resources to take care of our own forces as of now. Also, if you safeguard our faction, we'll grant you our help in rebuilding the land, when you are victorious, sire."
______________________________________

"Scout, I've heard something in the distance. Please, send out outrunners to check out what is going on down by Southshore. I have a grim feeling.." Xana whispered to one of the scouts she had taken liberty to wake up from sleeping. In the middle of Durnholde, a Shaman had concluded a well could be built. - At least that would secure ample provisions of water. A bunch of workers had started digging the hole into the ground, while masons were cutting out the stones to secure it.

[Black Mage]

"Healers you say? Varian said, looking over the elf from a distance. "And all you ask is for supplies..."

"Yes, sire." the elf said, solemnly.

"And how many of you be there?" Varian asked, belying his interest with a monotone voice.

"Just shy of a thousand, king." the elf Responded with a slight nod of his head.

Varian stood for a moment more before letting out a breath. "I agree to your services on a single condition."

The elf looked perplexed, but remained silent, imploring the king to continue. "You must move out your troops and make headway towards The Arathi Refuge point as soon as possible. The foothills are no longer safe. There are reports of Horde in the area."

The elf responded slowly, as if afraid of the reaction to come... "We have offered our services to they as well, sire..."

Anger flashed briefly in Varian's eyes. His chest heaved with a labored breath before he subcounciously shrugged the cool mantle of authority back over his shoulders. "No matter than... You may remain in the fortress... and you have the promise of our food, albeit a small portion... At least until you come back to your senses and make headway to the Refuge point."

With a swish of his cloak, Varian turned heels and stalked off, brooding over their new ally, and their potential enemy.

---------------

A sentry was hidden in the shrubbery in the higher reaches of the Wetlands, close to Thorindal's span. His acute eyes watched the bridge for any sign of trouble... As he calmly surveyed the landscape, he heard the faint sound of hooves striking the hard ground of the path on the other side of the bridge. He remained hidden, watching the approaching rider running his horse at break-neck speeds... He though to himself that if the man slowed not, he would kill the horse. As if on command, the horse dropped onto the stone bridge, it's fore legs breaking under it's stampeding mass. The rider, seemingly having expected it, jumped off, and rolled on ahead, dusting himself off before running in the same direction as the horse.

As he arrived close, the sentry jumped out of the underbrush, holding out his sword and yelled a quick command to stop. The running man ignored the other's command and instead crashed into the sentry.

His labored breath spoke of his pain... With his dying breath, he spoke, "Southshore... Undead... Fallen...Help Us..."

[ELYPOP]

Valeth remained at the ruins of Southshore along with Faranell, as they watched the Forsaken infront of them secure a perimiter around the former town. Once it has been completed, a full cleanup had been issued to remove any remaining plague which may be dangerous to the Forsaken that were to be put to work. Following this, an armored courier had arrived at their makeshift camp just north of the ruins, detailing how the blight launchers were to leave for Thoradin's Wall. There, they were to recieve additional canisters by caravan, and they were to fortify the wall against any intrusion, and to make sure that no one got in... or out.

[Deleted]

Later the scouts returned to the overwatch at Durnholde, along with the Shaman and Druid. Just as the meeting was about to begin, an elven outrunner returned from Southshore. "Mistress Xana! The undead.. The undead.." The elf was hyperventilating, clearly having run the entire distance. "Using.. Plague.. Southshore is gone.." Xana's expression changed, to resemble that of slight sadness. "The Horde of Lordaeron have also refused our offer. They've threathened our cause, saying that if we get in their way the slightest we'll be added to their undead numbers."
Xana was now biting her own thumb, this was already looking like an extremely bad situation.
"The Alliance welcomes a partnership, and sends their regards. They do wish us to join their forces in Hammerfall, and set up an outward position."
"With the intel from our visit there, the horde would never let us march freely through Thoradin's Wall, moving to Hammerfall is not an option!"
"Yet we cannot stay here with the threat of the plague so close by! As soon as the Alliance attempts to break down the defences at the wall, this place will be swarmed by the Horde's war machines. We'll be.."
"Please, calm down." Xana intervened, as the discussion seemed to be getting hectic. "..The people at Southshore were mostly neutrals, just like we would deem ourselves. They were selling fish and trading as normal when we arrived yesterday.." Xana slowly rose to her feet and walked out the tent, to look at the moonlit sky. "Whatever the case, we're pinned down for now. I can only advise that we strenghten the barriers and remain at our toes."
"Yes, Mistress" They both answered in unity.

Xana couldn't understand it. If the land the undead was fighting to claim was worth little enough to simply plague, why even fight for it in the first place?.. "Please, prepare a Gryphon. I will visit the Horde myself"

[Black Mage]

The army had been moving for a good part of the day. The descending sun was making the shadows of the great warhorses of the royal guard slant at an angle, foreshadowing the coming night. They had covered a good amount of distance, even with the northern wind, and were rapidly approaching the fork in the road which led to Menethil...

Varian had prepared a force of specially chosen men that were going to break off from the main army at this fork and ride into the night towards the seaport. Only about a hundred men had been chosen, all of them elites. They were good men, experienced veterans of the Northrend campaign. Few even had fought in the third war. All now were mounted atop warhorses, their leader at the front, carrying a special missive that would explain the situation to the leader of the Barracks of Menethil. With a slight hand signal from Major Cawford, the man in charge of the men, they thundered on ahead, their horses galloping at a steady pace.

As the men slowly began dissapearing around the bend in the road, Varian leaned forward in his saddle, tapping the shoulder of the general to his side, Baldwin.

"Do you have an estimate on when IT will arrive?" he asked in a low whisper.

"At last I heard, it had departed from stormwind a few days ago. It should be here within the week, maybe two." He responded in kind, a slight glint in his eye.

Varian flashed one of his rare smiles, settling back into his saddle, comfortable.

[ELYPOP]

The bright light of a day in Hillsbrad did not deter the forsaken. Southshore had be cleared to a decent degree, and the proper fortifications had been set up. Deathguards continually patrolled the perimiter of the town's ruins, as laborers worked upon a docking area for sin'dorei and forsaken vessels. Valeth had vacated his tent to the north of the town, and set off by hawkstrider back towards Tarren Mill with his sin'dorei guardians. At dawn, Master Apothecary Faranell had also left. He was now stationed at the Arathi border, overseeing any affairs to do with the plague.

Over the last few days, makeshift towers had been set up along Thoradin's Wall. Above them stood forsaken riflemen, ready to shoot any who would tresspass upon their ground without proper authorisation. Scouting parties travelled from the north of the wall to the southernmost point, keeping their deathly gaze upon the weakened points of the ancient structure. On the side of the Hillsbrad Foothills, stood mechanical structures. These vehicles were poised to launch the deathly green ichor that the forsaken took pride in. In the skies above, flew bats and dragonhawks alike, watching for any advancement from afar.

Upon Valeth's arrival at the outskirts of Tarren Mill, he saw a marvellous sight. As far as the eye could see, there were rows of tents. Some forsaken, and some blood elven. To his left, he witnessed a training ground, where veterans and trainees alike sparred endlessly. On his right, he saw magic wielders, rangers, and riflemen practice their aim. Looming above the entire area was a crude looking keep, its forsaken architecture prominent against the mostly green landscape, with stabled on either side. They housed the mounts most commonly used by the sin'dorei and the forsaken, namely hawkstriders and dragonhawks for the blood elves, and bats and skeletal horses for their undeathly allies. Not only were they kept there, but also were these animalistic constructs made by the forsaken apothecaries: beasts of flesh.

Signaling for his guards to return to their own tents, Valeth approached and entered the keep at the rear of the encampment. Nodding before the royal deathguards outside, he scaled the staircases that seemed endless, and entered Sylvanas's command room. Briefly and concisely, he informed her of their actions and their victory.

[Black Mage]

The bright day was source of high spirits among the warriors of the Alliance. A warm southern breeze had taken place of the cold gale that had slowed their progress the previous day. They had awoken and in a matter of moments, the whole army had began mobilizing, after a hearty breakfast of eggs and bacon.

Eggs were the food of choice on this kind of campaign, for they had plenty of chicken, and therefore, the supply renewed itself almost every day. As well, with a good supply of meat, the men would be in a good shape for the upcoming weeks, maybe even months, of campaign.

As the sky brightened to a bright azure, spotted by a few whsipy white clouds, the leading group, consisting of the calvary as well as the elite royal guard, took the lead, pacing their horses at a rythm that was easily followable by foot.

Azimuth looked out over the wetlands ahead, his eyes tracing the road that was winding it's way towards their destination. As he sat on his horse, without a saddle, he pondered their options. As if struck by a thought, he called out to a darkly clad figure ahead of him.

"Master Shaw," he called out to the rogue, bidding him closer.

The man's head turned the slightest bit and his horse slowed for a moment, placing it beside the flanks of Azimuth's gray mare. His hooded eyes turned slightly towards the mage, giving him unspoken permission to speak.

Azimuth slightly bowed his head before commencing in a low voice, "I suggest you send out a few scouts ahead. I believe your messengers shall be arriving soon, and I am considerably sure that they will be dead tired."

"Wise." the man said before placing his thumb and index in his mouth and letting out a strident whistle.

"As well, I do believe that we shall be needing your services with a little plan of mine... If possible, I would like to spare a few of our spies to go towards Durnholde keep. I have heard from our king that we have new allies in the area. I would like to chek them out. Make sure to stay hidden. My mages shall help with an invisibility ward to aid you in your mission."

Shaw's eyes lingered a moment on Azimuth's creased face before turning to the newly arrived rogue to his left and whispering commands into his ear. With a fist to his heart, the rogue left, a deadly shadow among the men.

Azimuth looked at Shaw a few seconds longer before turning his eyes ahead, seeing things that were not yet there.

[Deleted]

(( looking good so far! One point though about the neutral faction, the whole we'll pass any info we have to you thing is unrealistic! You can't be neutral and pass on info aka spying. Noone would ally with you since you offer both factions the same service, might I suggest certain members to be still loyal to their old faction. Let them do the info passing in obscure ways. If its requured for the rp otherwise I would just drop it! ))

[Deleted]

(( Dear Zeklor, the info we've offered to pass on is from the wounded soldiers, and the battle statistics. In terms, how many wounded and dead soldiers we've come into contact with, and if any of theese soldiers were commanders, lieutenants and so on and so forth. We're not spying on enemy movement, position or general war-plan. Regards, Xana <3 ))

[ELYPOP]

((It's fine, Zeklor. Also, Xana, waiting for you to arrive at Tarren Mill. ))

[Deleted]

The Gryphon let out a loud shriek, as it landed outside Tarren Mill. The Gryphon was snowwhite, with a few silverly shades of gray in its feathers. On its back, sat a young Draenei girl, wearing a long white robe. Over her head, the hood was pulled, and her horns were pointing out through two minor holes, cut for that very purpose. Over her back a long war-staff was hanging, with a purple colored crystal. The staff looked like a curled up snake, where one end was its tail made in sharp metal, and the other was its head 'biting' onto the crystal. The young girls pressence was huge, and the light itself seemed to be walking alongside her. Tying the Gryphon to a nearby tree, she made sure that there was a bit of chicken for the flyer. Afterall, it would have to take her all the way back to Durnholde again. Xana then slowly walked towards Tarren Mill, as an undead scout noticed her. "Halt!" He spoke. Xana immediately swapped to Gutter Speak. "No need to be alert, I come in a peaceful manner, Forsaken" The Draenei was speaking in a clear, subtle tone. It was clear though, that anger was underneath her surface, yet it was not allowed to shine through in any way or shape. "I wish an audience with the Banshee Queen, Sylvanas. I belive we might have encountered a minor misunderstanding."

Xana unsheated her Staff, and gently held it out in two hands, showing that she would give up her weapon.