War of the Greys: Lordaeron [Open RP]

[Pklol]

Ian couldn't help but laugh, when she left. Ian grabbed his sword and held it close. He had done more fighting today than most would there entire life and for that he was pleased. He knew he was still a new death knight and felt like he held his own well for his lack of experience. He called out to another death knight on the battlefield. "Get me out of here...". The death knight looked Ian over and saw the condition he was in, his human armor torn asunder, wounds all over, missing an eye but the crimson glow was coming back.

"You look fresh boy." The other death knight said. "Don't mock me",Ian fired back. "I need to be refitted and wounds tended to before the next battle where I will meet that lovely band of adventurers again, this time I will be ready..."

((Just my 2 cents but can we allow maybe a month or two to pass in character before the next battle. A lot of us kind of just jumped into this rp mid battle, and really haven't got to develop our characters and why they are fighting in the War of the Greys. I would also like to develop a little dk back story for my guy.))

[Darced]

((I don't follow, are you asking for a month long battle? Because literally it's more like two months. You can develop the character after this fight with a flashback or two and reflect his values and self during the engagements throughout the RP. Think of this like a book with numerous authors, the story arcs are told through actions. That way we can move along faster and your character will seem more real, because you look through his/ her eyes.

Can we wrap this up anytime soon? It's starting to get monotonous and hard to follow. Not trying to be mean, but we do have a plot to continue and we'll have time for more character development in other regions.))

[Pklol]

((I like that idea better, i just wanted a little time to pass between this battle and the next so I can kind of justify things dealing with him being a death knight. I love the flashback idea though, and I am with you on the fact this battle needs to end.))

[xensorlol]

((Well, Lethean, Grimgor, Aldean and Oliver are kind of in a mid-pause, been waiting to do something with Lethean because, right now, Aldean's charging at him and Lethean has a dagger launched in his spine. Darren, Neyira and Ian are finished battling for now. Continue if you wish. I'll be waiting. :3))

[Mengucekli]

(( We are actually up to Aldean/Lethean at the moment. ))

[Darced]

Aldean fell hard as Lethean skillfully thrust him back. "Gaggh!" His hammers fly across the ground and he lays on the ground. The death knight focuses elsewhere, feeling the Grey wasn't a threat. Aldean struggles to get up and goes to lift his hammers. "Aldean, wait." He turns towards the source of the voice. The man in white watched him as he stood, hammer of his own in hand, no longer engaging the Scourge. "There's no need for that." The paladin turns, towards the forest, "I sense this battle is near concluded. Steel yourself, for evil approaches."

((Alright, I'm ready to go.))

[xensorlol]

Lethean's attention was diverted as he shoved back Aldean. Ian had fallen, and was badly wounded. Thankfully one of the sin'dorei's soldiers was carrying him towards a deathcharger.
Neyira and the human mage had fallen back, and he suspected Neyira, too, was heavily wounded. We will meet again, my old friend, he thought, sheathing Shadowfrost. He enhanced his voice with a simple spell, the deep, eerie, undertoned words reaching far.
"Soldiers of the Scourge! Prepare to fall back!" he cried, gathering what remained of his army. "Zyraneth!" The draenei death knight was beside him in an instant, and he thought he could feel Cerygos's presence, high above them.
"Yes, my liege?" Zyraneth said, kneeling before the sin'dorei. "Why are we retreating?"
"We're not retreating," Lethean replied, calling forth Bloodmist, his faithful deathcharger. "We are returning to Lord Darced. I believe he has more in mind for us to accomplish, than waste our time here." He gripped Bloodmist's reins, turning the steed towards where they'd come. "Mount up."
Zyraneth obeyed, and in seconds they were both riding towards the hill, hundreds of Scourge soldiers and death knights behind them. Lethean suddenly held up a gauntleted fist, bringing the army to a pause. He broke off, and rode towards Ian's steed.
The human was injured enough that he was unable to actually ride. Narrowing his eyes, Lethean gathered up some of his own energy, and transferred it to Ian. It took seconds before the human was fully healed and in perfect health . . . as perfect in health as a death knight could be.
"Now," he called to his army. "We ride! For the Scourge!"

[Pklol]

Ian was revitalized almost instantly. "Whats this..." He brushed himself a little and rode towards Lethean. "Neyira got away, the mage dabbled in dark magic and nearly killed us both." Ian sheathed his sword and gazed ahead. "I am going to need some armor I think..." Ian looked down and whatever resemblance he had of his armor was destroyed. However he thought it was proper, in life or undeath in this case new look. "Also I can't stop this carving for blood and life force." He looked down and saw a wounded solider and immediately jumped off his steed. His eyes fired into a bright crimson, and he swung the katana. As the blade passed through the mans shoulder down to his torso, the blood was drawn up Ian's sword and to his remaining wounds, healing them. He licked his katana before sheathing it for the second time. He looked to Lethean from some explanation.

[xensorlol]

Lethean narrowed his eyes at Ian from upon Bloodmist. "The craving you feel is natural. The only thing that can sate it . . . is death." He paused, thinking. "I will show you a few tricks to suppressing it during crucial moments while we ride, but for now, let us move. I feel that Lord Darced begins to grow impatient . . . as do I."
He turned away. "Looks can be very misleading; that mage is more powerful than even I suspected. Now we are prepared, however, and we will be hard-pressed to be taken aback by him again. Do not worry, they only delay the inevitable rain of death."

((To Tyr's Hand? ;D))

[Darced]

((Is everyone ok with me starting the "To Tyr's Hand sequence? Is everyone ready for Darced's arrival?))

[Mengucekli]

(( Go go ))

[xensorlol]

((Lethean's band is on the move, so we're good. I put Neyira and Darren under Aldean for now, so I'll take them back once we kick this off in to the 2nd phase. In english, I'm ready. ))

[Pklol]

(( Tyrs hand is a go go ))

[Darced]

The Scourge suddenly stopped the assault and silently pressed backwards towards the forests. The band now stood in awe as an aura swept over them. The man in white spoke, "Do not be afraid, evil approaches with snide today, not malice." A robed figure floated from the woods and stopped before the paladin. "So, we meet at last."

Darced and the man in white stared at one another for what seemed like ages. The lich took little notice to what was going on around him, instead chose to focus on the paladin. After considerable time to ponder what he'd say, Darced finally spoke. "Why are you here? Were my rewards not sufficient? My warnings fall on deaf ears?" The cloaked warrior gazed at the creature before him. A lich, smaller than some, but adorned with black and tattered robes, sewn with streaks of red and orange. Likely to reflect the undead's previous nature and his current intentions. "You warned us, yes." Darced's eyes flickered as he awaited for the comment to end, but alas that was it.

"LICH!" Darced looked to his left, to one of the adventurers. A man, with short grey hair and eyes looked engagingly at him. He held two large hammers in his hands and he was prepared to fight. "LIGHT BEGOTTEN BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE!" The lich floated motionless as he examined the human further, "Are you Aldean of the Grey?" Aldean was taken aback by the query. "What Scourge trickery is this?" Darced chuckled as he returned his gaze to the paladin, "Quite the force you've assembled Causis. But you do realize the consequences of your actions. Of bringing your son here?" Aldean stared at the lich, then the paladin,But, my father was one of the Forsaken. This is a man, with flesh and blood!

Causis gripped his hammer, Liberty. "I had hoped that by some scrap of kinship you'd honor the fact and let it be." Darced smirked from beneath his skull, "We are not kin, you and I, only in curses and demons are we brethren." There was a long pause, Darced and the paladin stared each other down, as if speaking through one another's eyes. "I had hoped the shard of Frostmourne I gave you would be put to better use, but it seems you've chosen to squander it." The lich floats away, but says one final thing, "He is coming, from the mountains in the south. The Argents reside in Tyr's Hand and I aim to end them before he comes. I will prepare the plaguelands with the only force free of their corruption." Causis drops his hammer, "You've lost all sense Darced! This war will be won by the faithful! Sargeras will grow to fear the Light!" Darced floats off, motioning with his hand for his servants to follow. "Come death knights, we will focus on more important things." The lich disappears into the forests and Causis lifts his hammer from the ground. "Misguided bastard."

Aldean was shocked at the sight, this man before him, to his right, could none other be his own flesh and blood. Running blood, in a living body, his dream perhaps could be realized. "Are--are you really?" The man looks to him, revealing his grey eyes, same shade as his own, "Yes. I am reborn." He opens his hand towards Aldean revealing a scar in the shape of an S. "But I haven't much time."

The old man begins to walk into the forest, towards the East and motions for his companions to follow him. "I have horses waiting, we must ride to Tyr's Hand with full speed." He passes through a grove and lifts some branches to reveal a small herd of horses grazing on a purified and lively hill. "Take your pick."

The adventurers ride on toward's Tyr's Hand, along forgotten paths, following the mysterious stranger who claims to be the long dead Causis of the Grey. They follow arrows lodged in trees and the hope is that whomever left them had an eye for honesty, after all,the arrows had barbs on them. After hours of trekking through the mush of decaying trees and scarce Scourge patrols. The party finally made it to Tyr's Hand and the last arrow, which contained a note, "We are even now, old friend." The adventurers approached the gates and marveled at the bodies left before it. Projectiles and swords littered the ground and riddled the gate. It stood motionless, a scarred version its time under the Scarlet Crusade.

Causis rode up to it, and looked up. A company of bowmen at the ready, aimed at his head, prepared to destroy what they knew to be a Scourge trick. " Who goes there?!" Causis spoke plainly, "I am he in white, where once in grey. Tirion foretold my coming to you." The company vanishes behind the wall, and a long silence ensues. The doors crack as they prepare to open, the sounds of chains and locks releasing could be heard all over the plaguelands. Causis turns, "Come then, we have work to do."

Then suddenly from behind the adventurers the sounds of geists, ghouls and abominations run a muck behind them. The gates cease, "Destroy the Scourge then, we'll let you in! We'll provide support from up here!" The Scourge army grows into a battalion, aiming to take advantage of the door's opening. "Come on guys! Let's destroy them!" Aldean dismounts and charges the Scourge, colliding into an advancing row. "FOR THE GREYS!"

[dangelo37]

"Do ye like the feelin' human? How does the brand feel on your pink skin? HahAhAhaaahh!!" said the dwarf who had been torturing Oliver for hours. Pale skin and orange eyes hidden behind a dark cowl revealed nothing of the torturer's intention. Was he to kill Oliver? Was he going enslave him? Feed him the elementals that inhabited Blackrock Mountain? As the man began to cackle, suddenly Oliver was watching the scene from above. He was looking down at himself being prodded with a white hot sticker. The man threw his head back in glee and Oliver noticed something... something he dreaded more than the Dark Irons themselves. He saw himself behind the cowl. He was cackling like a madman and continued poking.....

Oliver awoke suddenly in an intense sweat. What was that? I will never become like them! Oliver remembered then what he had done to the deathknight only a short while ago and realized what that could mean. His hatred for Dark Iron dwarves would eventually turn him into a monster.... a monster he just noticed he actually looked like now. The side-effects of him taking three different potions at once hadn't gone away yet. His right arm was bulging with muscle and his lower body was made almost entirely of moving stone. How long was I asleep? The sleeping potion usually lasts 20 minutes, but the others should only last a mere 2-3. Getting up Oliver noticed his companions wandering through the forest being led by a man in all white.

He walked up to the adventurers and slumped onto the ground. A few of the paladins in the group began charging their blades with holy power in order to smite Oliver. "Please do not attack! I am on your side. I am suffering from the effects of my own doing. Please, I need safe passage until they wear off." Some of the paladins did not believe him. Why would they? I'm an undead. Not only that but I am of the Horde. These blunderheads will probably strike me down... good thinking coming here Oliver. They continued to cautiously walk towards Oliver and raised their blades when an officer among them stopped the assault.

"Wait! Stay your sword. He tells the truth. I saw him fight valiantly against the Scourge and even try to save the warrior from becoming a death knight. He will ride with us to Tyr's Hand!. Bind his hands to make sure. We ride!" Oliver was tied and was sat behind the captain on his horse. "Looks like everyone made it. And look! My friend the dwarf. I'm glad you made it out." He looked at the priest and was greeted with an indifferent look. "That's right... you don't talk much do you? No matter."

The journey was long and Oliver began to think to himself in quiet contemplation. What have I gotten myself into? I'm now caught in the middle of a war between The Scourge and these holy nuts. Not only that but, they are all apart of The Alliance!! They will turn on me the moment this little war is over....assuming we win. I need to convince them I am on their side. This captain seems to think I'm alright but he won't be enough to convince the rest of them.

When they arrived at Tyr's Hand they left Oliver on the horse as they attempted to enter the front gate. What Oliver saw next was a bit overwhelming. Abominations and gheists followed by legions of undead Scourge came out of the forest at the fortress. "Untie me!!! The Scourge are coming!" The captain quickly returned and unbound Oliver. "Don't make me regret this Forsaken" the human spoke in a hushed tone, handing Oliver a sword and small dagger. "My fellow Argents would have my head if they knew. Do what you can to defend the keep." Oliver nodded and stifled a small laugh, I'm getting outta here as soon as I can. To hell with the keep! But for now, if I want to ever get out of here, I need to stand and fight.

Oliver coated the sword with a reddish oil that ignited against the steal. Holding the sword in his still large right arm, Oliver began testing the balance of the blade. "It'll do I guess. Come then Scourge!"

[Mengucekli]

After the lengthy ride to Tyr's Hand, his companions found Grimgor fell asleep on his horse. He was totally smashed by the drunkiness and puked a few times on the road already. When they reached Tyr's Hand, one of the paladins in the party took his Argent tabard off and put it on the asleep priest, covering his naked body. He carried him with respect and compassion, and put him on a bench after passing through the gates for a few paces.

Ralof was riding his beloved Bolt Noir down to Tyr's Hand when he heard the Scourge horns. "Bloody bastards never learn, now do they?" he murmured. He hesitated for a moment: He knew shit hit the fan at Andorhal, as he was on his way back from Scarlet Monastery, he saw the town torn apart and undead flooding the wilds, also a thick cloud of filth was emaneting. He watched the town from afar, thinking "That's not my battle.". Then he rode and proceeded towards the Hinterlands, stopping over a hill. Now he was hearing Scourge horns, after so many years that is, at a place that was known to be purged. Something was definitely wrong, and he hesitated about getting involved or not. "Blast it." he said to himself, something deep inside his heart would not turn his back to the sound of trouble, while his mind was crying out for running away. He looked down the hill at the thick, dense forest and the opening towards Tyr's hand, and said "I will definitely regret this.", and rode his lightning fast stallion down hill.

The moment he reached where the party stood, Scourge forces converged into a battalion and started their charge at the party of adventurers. Ralof almost immediately assessed the situation: It was particularly similar to what he saw in his past experiences, a small pocket of selfless defenders againts impossible odds of a crushingly crowded enemy. His battles at Arathi Basin came to his mind, and his friends and comrades that were fallen crossed his thoughts.. He felt surprisingly emotional while looking at the nostalgic battle scene. He rode his horse to the gates, and jumped down near the party as Aldean rushed against the enemy. His horse instinctively continued running inside the gates to the safety.

Ralof, tightening his hat on his head and pulling out his shotgun, said "I'm here to kick ass and chew snuff, and i'm all out of snuff!" while people looked at him weirdly.

(( While i know everyone will miss their favorite half-wit priest, at least for a while, i will try to add some flavor with my new character to this RP. He is the R.T. Cornwall in my signature, if anyone could not make that out already. I hope that is okay? ))

[xensorlol]

Darren and Neyira had ridden side-by-side, the latter wounded by hanging on. Over time, her wounds slowly healed through the use of her own dark energies, and by the time they reached Tyrs Hand, she was again prepared for battle.
When they reached Tyr's Hand, the young wizard was surprised to see te Scourge already there, waiting for them.
"Damn it," hissed Neyira as they slowed their mounts to a stop. "This isn't what I was expecting."
Darren just shook his head. "I don't think either of us were expecting this . . . or anyone here, for that matter."
Neyira's gaze trailed to Aldean, who dismounted and charged in, hammers flying through the air. Darren followed it, then thought, That's the sign, then. "Come on," he said, clenching his fists around his steed's reins. "Let's go."
Neyira looked at him, cocking an eyebrow. "Does it look like I have a weapon?"
Darren pfroze, then quickly unsheathed his sword and tossed it to the night elf, who caught it easily. She wrapped her gauntleted hand around the hilt, hefted it, then nodded with satisfaction. "Nice sword. Should I care about where you acquired it?"
Darren forced a grin. "Nope."


Lethean pushed his army swiftly through the plagued forests of Lordaeron. His original plan was to follow the adventurers and their Argent Crusade allies. However, this had backfired when he'd realized where they were headed.
They'll have an open escape route if we follow them blindly, he'd thought, and directed his army to circle around the surrounding forests. Now, they would pit the adventurers and the Argent Crusade both between two massive armies of Scourge. Lethean was aware that Ian followed close by, eager to learn, eager to observe him. Lethean didn't care all too much.
What mattered to him the most was completely slaughtering the Argent Crusade's forces, as well as their adventurers. What they were to do next, especially with the bodies . . . Lethean was planning to leave for Darced to decide.
Now they had just crested a ridge that overlooked Tyr's Hand; Lethean sat upon his deathcharger, Bloodmist, Shadowfrost sheathed on his back, his dark, azure, deathly gaze drifting across the land below them. Behind him, Ian sat mounted to his right; Zyraneth at his left. High above them, soaring through the blood-red skies was Cerygos, the giant frostwyrm's echoing roar reached the ends of the earth.
Lethean tilted his head slightly to the left. "Zyraneth."
"Yes, my lord?" the draenei said instantly, bringing his own deathcharger closer to the sin'dorei's.
"Round up whatever remaining troops you can that are on the outskirts of our army," Lethean said, not sparing the draenei a glance. "We'll need everything. The army here is rather . . . pathetic."
"At once, my lord." Lethean heard the draenei ride off, and now turned Bloodmist towards Ian. He looked the human up and down; he'd been refitted with new armor sometime during their trip, and looked sure and better than he had when Lethean had first turned him. He will quickly become a strong death knight, the sin'dorei thought to himself, mulling over their options.
"My newest addition . . . " he began, meeting Ian's gaze. "Stay close to me. I have no doubts that you can easily handle yourself during battle, as you've clearly proven before. You've also proven your inexperience with your new powers . . . thus, I will teach you. However you will have to watch closely, and follow my lead exactly. Understood?"
He turned back, not warranting for an answer, ad gazed upon Tyr's Hand. The might of the Scourge will crush all of you inosolent little mongrels . . . and we will do so swiftly, and mercilessly.

[Pklol]

"It will be done my lord." Ian was doing better than ever, fitted with brand new jet black armor with crimson trim. Thick dire wolf fur lined the collar. Once the aderaline of the battle died, the transformation set in full swing. On their way to the hand, the stopped a traveling traders and Ian harvested all off them, minus one to bear witness to his crime against humanity. Ian ravaged through all easily everyone he cut down, the more life force he reaped the more his wounds from the previous battle healed tell he was at one hundred percent. He pressed his hand into a pool of blood then death gripped the surivor to within inches of his face. He pressed the hand on the shaking merchant's face, leaving a crimson hand print behind.

"Go to the nearst settlement, and tell them what transpired here today..." Ian released his grip on the shaking trader. "Tell them of Ian Black, the bane of the light."

Ian snapped back to the present and prepared mentally for the forth coming chaos of battle, and the lives he was about to reap.

[Darced]

Darced floated along within the necropolis deep in thought, pondering his next move. The lich was content with his position, satisfied with the situation at hand. The Argent Crusade and his enemies were where he wanted them, trapped in a small corner of the world, a dead place where the Scourge has met success before. The Plaguelands watched from below, towards Darced and his floating dead city above the Western Plaguelands. He moved towards a nearby balcony and looked down towards the dying land, a place that has experienced this pain before and would come to be lush again, but under whom?
Many thoughts raced through Darced's mind, Kel'Thuzad's ideas, his own, the battle at hand, Sargeras in the south. There were far too many things to consider and what was worse, was what could not be accounted for. Would these lands become tranquil again? Will this world be saved from the coming fires? Will Darced ever be remembered for his contributions? Was there a point to all of this? I served because I became convinced you spoke true Lich King. I serve because I see now your predictions were correct. But will I serve because it's my choice? Because I think it's right? Or will I serve because I have no say in the matter? Am I just another one of your servants?
Darced did not hear a reply, instead he looked back towards the necropolis' heart. A cage that emulated a dark energy sat at the center of the dead city. "Does it matter Fordring?" The lich floats onward towards the cage, his arms crossed and head tilted down. "Does it matter if I serve the Scourge? If the result is for the greater good?" He paces along the cages exterior. The dark pulses of energy cycle around the cage and attempt to connect with Darced. He brushes the particles away and continues his interrogation. "What if I were to tell you the Scourge was not meant for this world paladin? That instead it was meant for many others?" He continued to pace, intent on convincing the paladin his cause was true, he needed confirmation. "But, there was a flaw in our design. Archimonde presented a problem during our creation. A trait if you will, a driving force that enabled us to be feared by the Dark Titan?" The paladin watched motionless as if caught in a spider's web and stung with a debilitating poison, waiting to be sucked dry. "What if I told you that, such a trait was hate? A resentment of Sargeras and his power?" Darced stopped before the paladin's face and stared into his eyes, "What I were to tell you that we were made for Sargera's destruction? And that I was it's principal weapon?" He moved closer, "And that I would show Azeroth the way? To Salvation.

The lich now floated from the balcony once again, once more in thought, but now of the strategy at hand. He received his confirmation through silence, sure that Tirion would understand, if he saw what Darced has seen. He looks over to an awaiting gargoyle, waiting to take orders to his new master, the dread death knight Lethean. "Go, to my friends. Tell them to strike swift and true, show the people of this world we are not to be contested. We are this world's salvation!"
The gargoyle approaches Lethean from the air as the battle begins to unfold. It hands the death knight a parchment with it's claws. However, he doesn't need to read it. As if on cue the might of the Scourge armies approach from the north, from Strathlome. The rows march over the horizon, chanting and banners raised. Go my warriors! Show the world we are destined to be it's protectors! Destroy the Light wielders!

[xensorlol]

Lethean's gauntleted hand, the parchment gripped tightly in his fist, lowered from the gargoyle that soared off. He touched minds with Cerygos, and the frostwyrm responded.
How may I serve you, sin'dorei? the great frostwyrm spoke, his thoughts a deep rumble through Lethean's mind. The blood elf was surprised at first; this was the first time he'd not only spoken with a dragon, but frostwyrm, and through thoughts to boot.
The attack has begun. Almost the entirety of our troops have gathered at Tyr's Hand. It is time, wyrm.
He recieved a confirmation from Cerygos, followed by an echoing, piercing roar from high above that seemed to rumble the land like thunder. Lethean's blazing azure eyes flared as he turned Bloodmist towards the battle. "Onward, my faithful steed . . . let us rain death upon this land, as the Scourge once did years ago."
Bloodmist gave a deep, eerie whicker, then galloped down the hill.
From out of nowhere Shadowfrost was in Lethean's fist; the sin'dorei wielded it easily with only one hand. They neared the fight, and Lethean encountered the outer portion of the Argent Crusade's forces. Paladins, priests, warriors dedicated to serving the "Light" faithfully, and other mercenaries were all cut down by the blood elf's dark, runed sword. He spared no one, and was merciless and swift in the slaughter.
Finally Bloodmist reached Tyr's Hand; the town itself wa a mass of corpses, and the scents of blood and death were heavy in the air. Lethean reveled in these particular smells, and his eye flared brighter.
He lifted Shadowfrost in to the air and cried, "Onward, minions of the Scourge! Decimate all life!"