War of the Greys: Lordaeron [Open RP]

[Pklol]

Ian joined Lethean in the slaughter of the outer portion the Crusade. He would let four or five surround him, almost baiting them for the rapid unsheathing of his blade to block the initial attacks then slice through his opponents when they were off balance. He marched forward covering Lethean's flanks. He blasted three archers off the wall with three well aimed death coils, then pulled a fourth down to feed on. Ian shaped the blood of the fallen to form a shield around himself, blocking the stray arrows and allowing him to focus on what was in front of him. He looked for the adventures who had previously bested him, hoping for revenge.

[dangelo37]

The gheists, much faster than the rest of the Scourge army, bounded and leaped into the front lines of the Tyr's Hand defense. Oliver picked one out of the crowd and with one powerful swing from his blazing sword, incinerated the creature. As Oliver looked up, he saw hundreds maybe thousands of enemies. There's no way we can keep this up... we have to separate the Scourge and disorient them. Oliver had to think of something and fought his way to the back line of defense.

"Archers.. Aim... Fire!!" A volley of arrows came from over the town's walls. Scourge were dropping in large groups but there were just too many of them. The captain from before shouted to Officers above, "The enemy is in position! Set off the traps!" Oliver looked around trying to decipher what trap they spoke of. He came to Oliver and said, "We knew they would reach here eventually. We've been planning for a few days now. Look to the open field that meets the forest. That is where the largest portion of Scourge will come from. Oh! I almost forgot. Hold onto the commission. If others see it in your possession, they will not attack you. Now... keep your eye on that area." Placing the trinket in his robes, Oliver obeyed and stared at the open, grassy area and noticed something he hadn't before. Small trenches were dug out, almost unnoticeable unless you looked for them. He could hardly discern a black substance lining the entirety of the trenches.

"Archers... light up... aim... fire!!" Flaming missiles filled the sky above and set fire to the undead army. A few of the arrows landed in the trenches and that was when Oliver saw the pattern. The trenches were dug into sections. Three-sided squares that left only the path forward towards Tyr's Hand open. They were meant to keep the enemy from escaping and regrouping elsewhere. Explosions rocked the very ground beneath and surprised the invading forces. Walls of flame overcame the battlefield and cut off all escape routes. The once foreboding army was now turned into three more manageable platoons. "Haha!!! Good work archers! This will give the upper hand we need hold the line. Riders to me... charge!!!" The captain was rejoiced to see how effective his trap had been. He rallied his group of cavalry and charged the left-most area. Each group of attackers was still formidable, but any kind of organization they had before was now faltering.

A good plan indeed. But this will only slow them down for a while. Lethean is sure to show his face soon enough and as powerful as he is, a little fire will likely mean nothing to him. Still, this is an advantage we should take hold of. Oliver looked around for his party and noticed that some of them had pushed forward and were already split apart by the flames. There were three major sections and the Tyr's Hand defenses had already planned how they would separate themselves: in section A there were cavalry; section B had archers, rifleman, front line defenders; and section C had many spellcasters and paladins. I should go to the middle. Those damned paladins will probably mistake me for the enemy. Hopefully the gunners don't shoot me in the back.

Oliver made his way to the centered section and with flaming sword in hand, began to attack the enemy. The strength he still had in his right arm was immeasurable. He still worried that the side-effects hadn't worn off yet, but there was little time to anything about it just yet. He would have to return to the Apothecary if they didn't subside soon. With his left hand, he gripped his leather pouch will glowed blue for a moment. The fire on his sword flared up and nearly doubled in size. He swept a large arc and took down many Scourge in a single attack. He laughed as the enemies before him were instantly set ablaze. A group of abominations came lumbering down the flaming corridor and Oliver fell back behind the shield baring warriors to regroup himself. We may win this yet! I don NOT want to fight another one of those. Smelly things...

((Sorry if this is a little beyond my power to do, but I think it'll give us a much more dynamic fight. Dacred, I can change this around if you had something specific in mind. I really like the idea of it all though. Just say the word my friend.))

[Darced]

((It's reasonable and I appreciate the creativity. Keep having fun ))

The Scourge began to pour forward and Aldean was forced the fall back to the rest of the Argents who have come to help. Dear Light, we should have stayed inside. We won't last for long! After a moment of sprinting he reaches the advancing paladins who've charged the first wave of Scourge minions. "Charge!" screams an Argent captain as they ride forward past Aldean. The Grey looks in awe, and smashes some of the remaining ghouls they left behind. He looked over the field and saw the advancing Scourge armies from the forests. They chanted, "Ragh, ragh, ragh!" The skeleton warriors smashed down their banners onto the ground simultaneously and the meat wagons could be heard screeching. Aldean felt fear grip his heart as the Argents came into view in his peripheral vision, We don't have enough!
The Scourge divisions marched into sight of the castle walls of Tyr's Hand, their white eyes watched as their brethren were cut down by paladins on horses. The brown fields were a glow with an amber light, but darkness came with their coming. Rain clouds appeared from behind the Scourge and patters of rain fell unto their helmets and rusted armor. Death knights rose to the front and awaited their Lord crusader to take the reins and order the charge. "Wait for Knight commander Darkwhisper, he will lead this onslaught to glory!"

((And Que the epic music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fn8Vu...cMIrCw&index=3))

[Mengucekli]

Ralof looked at the grim situation and grinned. Battle was a total chaos. He unsheated his pistols and unfurled a barrage of his special bouncing bullets, each bullet seperating into 5 smaller fragments upon impact that bounced between crowded enemies untill making several deadly jumps and then losing effectiveness. Smoke dispersed a few second later and Ralof cackled as more than 60 scourge monster was shot down by bouncing sharapnels. A deathknight came charging at him so he started running off towards the walls, while he was using speed-loaders to fill up his pistols, archers on the wall shot the chaser down immediately. He stopped running for a moment and looked up as he saw the huge frost wyrm soaring and roaring up above. "What a fine addition to my trophy room that would be!" he yelled excitedly. He put his pistols back and started running for ramparts. Meanwhile he reached to his backpack and took out two huge harpoons that were tied to thick ropes. He casually reached for his side pockets and grabbed two fuses, then loaded his shotgun with pressure cartridges. Meanwhile he managed to reach at the top of the stairs, and he saw Grimgor lying on a stone bench down the road. He thought him to be wounded, he looked up and let out a sharp whistle. Bolt Noir almost immediately rushed to him and by his hand gestures picked up the dwarven priest and ran towards the Argent tower by the hill which Ralof assumed to be safe for the moment.

Ralof plunged harpoons into the barrels of his shotgun and looked around for the wyrm. He saw a few abominations rushing through battlefield towards defenders, where especially one weird forsaken was stationed. He looked both pretty interesting and disgusting, half of his body was anormally huge, he wielded a flaming blade and his legs looked pretty grey even for a forsaken. Ralof hesitated for a moment, he would definitely not move a muscle to save a forsaken none-the-matter, but he remembered Sir Leonid Barthalomew, he who refused to serve Dark Lady and faithfully returned to his duty of protecting Lordaeron by joining Argent Dawn. He lowered his head and said "I'm going to regret this even more." then reached for his right side pocket and grabbed a cobalt granede, this one was modified by himself to include caltrops. He threw the bomb with all his power and managed to lay waste to a charging abomination, while others screamed in agony as their huge feet were obliterated by caltrops.

Ralof lowered his head by relfexes as the huge wyrm flied over their rampart, obviously taking advantege of the exposed position of the archers on the walls. "Oh i so much love this! Haven't done that since safari in the north. Hopefully this time i'm better prepared and i will be able to use this new beauty." he murmured as he gently patted his backpack, referencing something inside. Wyrm made a huge circle and maneuvered while shrieking, descending upon the rampart Ralof was on as archers hopelessly tried to shoot down the huge beast. Ralof stood his ground, his eyes firmly fixed on his prey, and carefully placed his shotgun on his right shoulder, aiming, timing for the perfect shot. At the last moment Cerygos noticed the miserable human being, standing against wyrm all on himself, and with fury it opened up his mouth to freezing-breath him to death. That was the huge mistake each and every wyrm Ralof encountered and defeated fell into: Pride. Pride was the biggest reason hunters became hunted, and Ralof learned this lesson long ago, in a very hard and painful way. He aimed and right before the huge beast started breathing frost, he shot the right-side harpoon right into its mouth. Beast was surprised to see such a well measured attack but easyly evaded the shot by little effort, maneuvering slightly to left without changing its course. In a split second, Cerygos saw a second harpoon flying towards it out of the smoke of the shotgun, and without being able to evade that second, which Ralof pretty much anticipated from the very begining, was impaled by the harpoon. It went through its upper chin and got out of its right eye. Huge beast let out a fearsome shriek, and ascended in panic. Agony was traumatizing, and anger, hate and fear covered its mind. Ralof grinned as he saw his trick worked like many times before, he sheated his shotgun on his back while waiting for the rope to reach its full course. He yelled "For Cornwall! For the Stromgarde! For Arath-" but he could not finish his sentence as the rope that was tied to harpoon reached its lenght and lifted Ralof to send him airborn right after the wounded wrym. "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" his yell echoed towards the battlefield as he tried to grasp the rope and started climbing towards the beast.

[xensorlol]

Cerygos loosed an agonizing roar as he felt a sharp object impale his right hind leg, high up. The metal object plunged itself in to te bone, and Cerygos was shocked at the pain that came from the wound.
"Foolish mortals!" he roared, pushing himself higher with a fierce beat of his wings. He felt a slight tugging from the object lodged in his leg, and roared again. He turned his great head, and saw a harpoon had been fired in to the bone of his leg. A long rope was attatched to the harpoon, and at the other end of that rope, a human desperately clung to it.
Cerygos pushed down the pain and laughed. "Pitiful little human," he snapped, loosing another roar. With another beat of his great wings, he ascended even more, dragging the human with him.


Lethean eyed the battlefield with contempt, as he watched his own small army of Scourge become little more than bones beneath the Argent Crusade. His impatience deepened, until finally his eyes flared and he gripped Shadowfrost tighter.
"Zyraneth!" he snapped, forcing his tone to be commanding, not that of an impatient child. The draenei death knight was beside him in an instant, two-handed mace clutched in both pale blue hands.
How the hell . . . Out loud he growled, "Our reinforcements have arrived. They can distract this pathetic, inevitable effort put forth by the Crusade. I want you to join with me and-"
Zyraneth suddenly cringed, his eyes widening. "Cerygos!" The draenei dropped to one knee - his left, Lethean noted - and used his mace for support. "They are beginning to target him."
Lethean lifted his gaze to the red skies, also noting the massive black rainclouds appearing above them. He caught a glimpse of the monstrous frostwyrm, and just barely caught the outline of a long, thick rope dangling from the frostwyrm, and a-
"Human?" he muttered, surprise evident in his voice. "Curious . . . no matter. The wyrm can handle itself. We have more important and rather harrowing matters to contend with."
For a moment Zyraneth sat there, crouched and seemingly in pain. Then the draenei pushed himself back to his feet - or rather hooves - and faced Lethean's steely gaze. "Yes, my liege. As you command."
Still mounted, Lethean turned Bloodmist towards Tyr's Hand, his runeblade gleaming, rain pouring down his dark, gore-covered plate. Beneath the demonic helm, two azure eyes began to glow a soft crimson.


Neyira dashed through the Scourge ranks, twin runeblades singing as they flashed through the air, slicing into decayed flesh and crushing bone. With every kill, she drained the energy of her foes, transferring it to herself, and sounding the gong of death for the Scourge remanants.
She spied the mage, Darren, far to her right, tossing frostfire bolt after frostfire bolt in to the endless ranks of undead. Occasionally he would summon fire from below, or miniature volcanoes, or he would summon a blizzard from above, piercing the flesh beneath his storms with razor-sharp icicles.
Then the storm rolled in. Lighting flashed; thunder cracked, rumbling the land. It was powerful, almost as if the Titans themselves reigned in the clouds, hammering away at unseen evils with great hammers.
The rain came down in sheets, slamming the forces that battled for dominance with hard droplets of freezing water. For the Scourge the rain seemed to affect them little, though it did slow the attacking death knights, whose sights were blocked by the unrelenting rain. Neyira, too, found herself hard-pressed in her attacks, unable to properly see her foes. She used her heightened sense of hearing to locate her targets and take them down. A break in the rain; her sight was restored for a moment, and she saw Darren standing upon a small crag, the rain falling around him. At first she was shocked, then realization dawned on her.
Of course, the kaldorei mused, being a mage would grant him the ability to protect himself from most elements.
The rain slowly began to die down; although the lightning still flared with ferocity, while the thunder continued to shake the earth. Neyira cut down a ghoul in front of her without mercy, then turned, parrying an incoming strike from a tauren death knight. The massive, bull-like humanoid's axe slammed in to her blades with the force of a kodo, knocking her back and causing her to stumble. She tripped over a fallen Crusader, losing her footing and falling backwards. She held her grip on her blades, but knew she would not be able to block the killing blow that was sure to follow.
As she'd predicted, the huge axe came down with a swiftness that belied both it and its wielder's size, and the kaldorei rolled to one side, feeling the vibration beneath her as the axe's blade plunged in to the earth. She rolled back, swinging Frosthowl at the tauren's thigh. The gleaming blade sliced through the plate armor as if it were butter, and she felt it cut in to the flesh and muscle under it. The tauren roared in pain, backhanding Neyira across the face with the back of his hand. The force of the blow stunned Neyira; her ears rang as she shoved herself away from the maddened creature, losing her grip on Frosthowl in the process. She quickly regained her fotting, casting away the pain, and turned to face her opponent.
The tauren had ripped her runeblade from his leg and discarded it without care; he gripped his axe and roared at her, lowering his head and charging. Neyira readied herself, adjusting her grip on Icegore as the tauren's powerful hooves struck the ground, bringing him one step closer to the kaldorei.
In an instant, the tauren was in front of her, swinging his axe. Neyira sidestepped the would-be deadly strike, plunging Icegore in to the tauren's side. He gurgled in pain as she ripped the sword out in an arc, nearly severing him in half. The tauren thudded as his body hit the ground, silent and motionless.
She retrieved her other runeblade and faced the Scourge ranks, and narrowed her eyes in sudden rage. There, trotting through his own soldiers, arrogant as could be, garbed in his familiar and unique grey-and-black plate, splattered with the blood of his enemies . . . was Lethean.
Trailing behind him, seeming slightly subdued, was a draenei death knight. Not caring to use a mount, the draenei wielded his two-handed mace with ease, bashing the occasional Crusader that was careless enough to near him. Lethean seemed content with this punishment. As if he could feel the strength and intensity of her gaze, he turned his eyes towards her; how he saw her, she did not know, as she was deep within the ranks of the undead.
He wore his helm now, hiding his expression . . . but somehow, she knew he was grinning smugly beneath the demonic gaze.

((another song for you all to enjoy, if you'd like. kind of fits the current scenario, too. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QlPJYGY_mNg))

[dangelo37]

((I wish you had posted that link at the top. I had to reread the whole post after I went to youtube :P Both those musics are amazingling epic))

The trap was working! The enemy forces had been split up, disoriented, and beaten down significantly. Pit.... pat... pit.. pat..pitpitpatpitpitpat. I knew our luck couldn't hold up. No matter, we've made our presence known and have taken down many with our early advantage. The light rain quickly turned into a deluge and lightning flashed across the skies above. Oliver looked up when he heard the fierce roar of the wyrm from earlier. He could barely make out a rope dangling behind it with someone clutching it tightly, making there way up it. At least he'll distract that thing for a while... until he dies that is. Oliver giggled at his dark humor and made his way back towards the front line.

The enemy was hardly affected by the downpour, but the allies forces were greatly hindered. Archers began missing their marks and the cavalry couldn't charge at their full speed anymore making them more of a nuisance than an unstoppable force. The warriors were having trouble keeping a foothold, but they seemed to be having the most effect. That was when Oliver noticed him... Lethean had joined the fray knocking crusaders away like flies. The bastard must've brought this rain with him! Oliver searched his satchel and discovered he had used almost all of his useful potions already. Damn! I only have a few healing potions, sword oils, and... Oliver's eyes widened suddenly. He pulled out a bottle with a grey liquid inside. The concoction swirled and seemed to almost WANT to escape the prison-like vial. This potion would help scatter the reinforcements so they could not so easily help their front lines. But how to get it far enough in?

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"Keep pushing paladins! This is but a sprinkle on a midsummer's eve! Do not quit the advance... Charge!!" The captain had begun to rally his knights. Smiting enemies left and right. He infused his poleaxe with holy magic and decimated the Scourge ranks. His group had gotten much smaller by now, but the remaining paladins were an elite group. They had each seen many wars and had taken down many Scourge in their day. He spotted a human with two maces destroying Scourge all around him. "My friend. If you have need of a horse you may have this one. His master fell, light bless him, and I would not have it follow his fate. His name is Bolt and he runs faster than any horse around... well most." He patted his own horse's mane with a slight grin at his own slight humor and left Bolt there. The captain knew Bolt was smart enough to find his own way back if the man did not require one. "Follow me riders! We cut a swath in the forces and assist the front-line warriors now!"
The mounted paladins cheered in unison and began pushing towards the center of the battlefield. The enemy did not expect to be attacked from a side and they made a huge gap in their ranks, separating the enemy. This gave the Captain a new field of vision during a break in the storm. There were many foes here no doubt, but there were still more at the edges of the forest with banners simply standing. "What in light's name are they waiting for? How can we ever overcome such numbers?"

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Oliver saw the cavalry cut into the center of the battlefield and rejoin with the warriors there. Maybe they can do it for me... I must talk one of them into doing it. Oliver made his way to the paladins, flashing his Argent Commission many times so they would not slay him on the spot. That was when he noticed his legs. They were no longer stone but cold rotting flesh once again. He could also feel the remaining ward begin to fade from within. It looks like these side-effects are finally waring off. They had. All except his arm. It was still gigantic and throbbing with musculature. I'll give it some more time. He reached the horsemen and the Captain nodded at him. "Good to see you're still ali... around." Oliver cackled at the man's uncertainty. "I have a plan paladin. I need someone to destroy this vial as far back as possible. The contents will scatter the enemy more than they already are. It needs to go pretty far back though..."
"Hand it to me. Quinn! Come here my friend. Take this vial into that clearing over there. Get as close as possible and throw it. Come back with haste and may the Light be with you." The young knight took it and galloped towards the clearing. "He is young but a valiant warrior."

The paladin dodged many Scourge along the way keeping his mind set on his task. His blade seemed to hunger for the undead flesh around him. He wanted badly to smite these imbeciles and release them from the torment of undeath. He flung the potion as far as he could and suddenly his horse rose up on it's hind legs and whinnied. Below him was a skeletal soldier slashing at his horse. He fell to the ground and was immediately attacked by nearby enemies. "I will not go down without a fight! For Tyr's Hand!!!! AHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhh....." He slashed his sword around and took down many foes before becoming overwhelmed. He used his holy powers to consecrate the ground and burned the footsoldiers where they stood. His wounds were grave and he knew this was the end. "Light save me..." and he passed on....

"Nooooo!!!" the Captain screamed. "There were no Scourge there. The bastards must have risen from the ground itself." He turned his attention to Oliver. "This had better be a good plan Forsaken. It is a terrible fate to lose one's life at such a young age and I will not let that go unpunished." Oliver looked up at him, "I'm sorry for your loss my friend..." "Do not think to call me 'FRIEND'. This is a temporary alliance for the betterment of Tyr's Hand. Do not make me regret saving your cold skin." And with that, the Captain trotted back to his group. It is done. Once the contents mix with the air well enough, the entire back half of the battlefield will be filled with a dense smoke. As long as the blasted wyrm is distracted, this may help us keep our momentum. Oliver gripped his leather pouch and it glowed a bright blue.

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The vial landed amongst a small clearing in the area and the grey liquid spilled out. The swirling fluid became a small puff of smoke. When the wind hit it just right, the smoke began to rapidly expand. It covered a large portion of the grassy area and spread into the forest. It was not a natural smoke though. It completely obscured one's vision and made it impossible to see further than your nose. It spread quickly and covered a quarter of a mile in diameter. "See paladin? This will disorient them long enough for us to finish off these stragglers here. The mist will only last but a few minutes though. Try not to waste it."

"Knights to me! We will not let our friend's sacrifice be in vane. He has given us a chance... a chance to turn this battle around. I know that this enemy is fomiddable and seemingly unending. But on this day, we fight! We fight for our land! We fight to protect our families! We fight to help end the curse of undeath! We fight with the power of the Light at our backs! Today we meet out foes head on! Rise my friends... Charrrggggggee!!!!" There was a resounding battlecry from the warriors, archers, mages, and knights as they came together and began their push forward. As they ran into the enemy head on, the clouds behind them began to break and show a shred of light upon their backs.

((tl;dr the fires have died down, the knights joined the center of the army, Oliver's Fog of War potion has obscured the back lines, and now the Captain is leading a charge into the enemy forces. It took me about an hour to write all this out so forgive me if it doesn't seem to fit together 100%))

[Pklol]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yj556N0QQxM- Everyone else has epic music, I want some , as Ian is making his way to the smoke.))

Ian dodged, cut, parried, and weaved his way through a sea of crusader to approach the group of paladins that had been raining havoc on the Scrouge Army. He spin into what appeared to be a deadly dance of blades. A solider would swing at him, only to lose three limbs in the process. He had wondered if he had ever been that weak.

He emerged and moved towards the edge of the smoke and cut two of the war mounts down as they left the fog. "The light can't save you from me..." Ian reaped the souls of the fallen around him and formed a shield of their blood. One of the paladin was trapped under his fallen stead. Ian approached him and pressed his hand against his face. Ian's palm erupted with unholy energy and burned away any flesh and tissue, leaving nothing but a misshapen skull. "Don't think I didn't bring friends either..." Scrouge Gargoyles flew in as if on que and began to bombard the center of the army, dropping off ground troops as they went. Ian stood in the center of the chaos, absorbing all the death and decay around him and channeling it. He had one hand on the hilt of his katana and the other shooting of death coils at anyone coming with his range.

"Lord Darced's will shall be unleashed, and we will save this world!" Ian's eye flared red the missing one now covered by an eye patch. At that moment Ian was blasted by a surge of holy energy, the blood shield absorbed most of the blow, however it still drove him back aways. "Ahhhh someone with a spine I see?"

[Darced]

Aldean continued his rampage as the crumbling Scourge ranks clashed with the Argent Crusade. Darced is getting sloppy. This battle will be over in no time! Death knights appeared from the melee and Aldean stood firm, readied his hammers and smirked. They charged towards him and he in turn towards them. He leaped forward, causing his body to become a projectile within itself. A death knight fell to the ground winded and he dispatched another. The troll was shocked by this, a human able to wield two war hammers with ease? He saw so first hand as Aldean swung in a circle staggering the rest of the death knights.
They peered down to see their sister slowly rise, "Human, it seems we're at an impasse." Aldean smirks, "No, not we." He charges forward and misses the dodging death knights, "You simply have a quandary." The Scourge knights slashed towards him, almost in unison, releasing a black magic from their hands during the process. Aldean ducks and the magics strike the ground. He stands confidently and smashes two of the death knights, killing them. He peers up, "Channeling a spell against me is never a good idea." The death knights cancel the spell and three remain. "Why human? Why not embrace the veil of death? Why not put an end to this world of strife and join one of turmoil?" The female night elf nods, "Yes, you would be invaluable indeed. Lord Lethean would be pleased." Aldean looks to them grimly, "You realize your will is not your own. That, all that you've done is hasten this world's doom?" The human male death knight nods, "You do not understand. We do not expect you to, but know this." Aldean watches onward as the death knight speaks, panting as he attempts to recover. "Know that when you die, you will see our point of view." He said it calmly and Aldean was surprised, it almost sounded friendly. He raised his hammers and stared at his undead brother, a human, "Then, the same goes for your kind." The death knights smirk, "Very well Aldean of the Grey." The raise their rune blades and slowly approach him, "We will make this quick."
The Grey stood still as if ready to give up, he looks to the field grasses below him and marvels at the rain as it hits the ground. I can't die now. I can't when my father has returned. I can't when as we speak he fights for humanity again. I can't fail him like I did at Southshore. He peers up and flings his hammers in his hands, idling. The death knights cast frost magic at him, but he resists. The bright eyes widen as Aldean looks to them from the ground and charges while they were so close. He tackles the human and smashes the head with one hammer, blocks the other two swords with the other that he held behind his back. "How can a human take on five death knights?!" The Grey turns with a smirk on his face, "The Light is with me." He thrusts the hammers at their legs and crushes them in the the stomachs.
Aldean looks around him panting and exhausted, the armies had clashed and the rain still fell. "If this is to be the doom of our time. Then I was glad to see it." A white glow came from behind the warrior and Aldean looked behind him, feeling a great warmth. There stood Causis with his hammer Liberty over his shoulder, "This will only be the end of the Scourge. Fear not my son, their deaths are assured." He presents the armies with his open palms and a great fog appeared over them. Aldean nods, "He should take advantage of the opportunity then?"
"Perhaps you shouldn't be so hasty my friends?" The Greys turn quickly and see a pair of red eyes pierce the newly enveloped fog. "As I said, their death will come soon enough." Aldean recognized the voice and raised his weapons, "Darced!" The lich appears from the mists, "No one can hear us human, save your breath." Causis nods, "We are alone for now Aldean." The two men stare at their opponent, waiting for the first move. Darced chuckles, "The Light wielder is mine... cousin."

((Don't worry, you'll get to fight the lich soon enough, but let me develop the plot a bit in one more post. Also, keep in mind Darced was a Grey in life so this may have some of my lore from my other characters in it. Just adding some extra subsistence. And Mexy, /fistbump Thomas Bergenson ftw :P http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y1qzm3UUTrg))

[Mengucekli]

Thundering skies lit the lead colored clouds in azure light high above the rain-wet battlefield of Tyr's Hand, as crackling lightnings forked through the mists. Heavy rain pounded on Ralof's face, he could feel the speed of his flight as he hardly could breath. Wounded beast let roar after roar as it soared through the hasty winds, each more ferocious than before, and less painful. Ralof could figure out that it was gaining its senses after the shock on pain, and that was not good for him. "Should've blown its ugly face with some explosives instead." he thought, but whining was of no use at that moment. He was flinging on a rope in the air after some pain-crazed frost wyrm, "What was i thinking!" he murmured as he climbed even closer to the dragon.

Suddenly, turning its head, it gave a furious look at him and then started diving in a sharp manuever, which almost got Ralof losing his grip. He screamed in excitement as he was flung upwards as the beast gone down, then his rope started pulling him downwards too. The huge wyrm carelessly got close to ground to smash Ralof on the ground, but in their short dive Ralof has managed to get even closer to the left wing of the beast so that did not play out well. Realising it could not get rid of him that way, wyrm roared and dove into a dense part of forest, cutting treetops as its razor-sharp frozen wings hit the trees, sending branches and leaves flying upon its wake. Ralof tried to cover his head with one of his arms while firmly holding his grasp on the rope with the other. He hit a few branches in the air and one left a scratch on his right cheek, but he could not feel any pain because of the adrenaline rush he was feeling at that moment. He knew he would eventually get himself smashed to one of the trees so he had to do something, and fast. He gripped the rope, flung himself forward towards the left wing of the wyrm and then laying both of his legs on the wing, he pulled the rope as hard as possible. Harpoon was still plunged in the eye socket of the beast and its forked tip slashed through Cerygos' upper chin, sending the beast into another rush of agony and forcing it to ascend again. It roared with all of its fury, and tried to grab Ralof with his front-right claw, in which it failed by sheer luck. Ralof leaped forward and unsheated his sword in his right hand, then plunged it into the icy scales of Cerygos' spine. Wyrm did not even notice that, for a frost wyrm such a wound would not even be a splinter scar. At that moment Cerygos managed to grab the rope that was connecting Ralof and harpoon, and immediately cut it with its sharp claws in hopes of dropping the pest to ground. Ralof lost his balance as the rope suddenly got cut, but managed to grab the hilt of his sword with his right hand at the last moment.

Wyrm immediately made a barrel roll to drop him off of his back. They were flying close over the battlefield when it rolled, and most of the people that were fighting in the clash looked up to the man that was clinging to the beast's back with one hand, screaming as high as he could "AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!".

(( So thanks for the epic music, here is the one from me http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FPyBCDeFCck very obvious reference hehe ))

[xensorlol]

(( /fistbump ;D I have a lot of epic tracks up my sleeve, so if anyone ever wants more, I'll find one that'll fit the scenario appropriately. XD))

Cerygos tried everything he could think of - barrel rolls, unexpected dives; the massive frostwyrm twisted and turned, soaring through the bloody skies with masterful skill.
Unfortunately, his trickiest maneuvers were not enough. The determined lesser mortal clung to his bones with a ferocity that surprised Cerygos; he had not known that the lesser races were capable of this. Valor and courage on the battlefield, perhaps - but there they faced foes akin to they. This . . . human sought to bring down Cerygos, and the frostwyrm knew he would not concede until he had drawn his final breath.
"Very well, mortal!" the frostwyrm roared, ascending in to the clouds. "Your petty persistence - while surely admirable amongst your own kind - will be your demise!" Cerygos folded his skeletal wings, pointing his bony snout downward, and fell in to a steep dive. The clouds shot by at lighting speed until he broke through their cloak, and the battlefield below came in to full view. The former blue dragon could feel the human still hanging on - somewhere on his back, he assumed - and growled, not pulling up until he reached treetop-height. He unfurled his wings and alighted instantly, and the mid-air impact with gravity sent a shockwave of force that rolled through his bones. Cerygos shook his head as he felt this odd sensation, hovering in mid-air. The frostwyrm roared again, breathing deadly frost across the battlefield. He worried not about hitting his own allies; death knights were known for their awesome resistance to the cold, and the undead, shambling wrecks they insisted on using as cannon fodder - for which Cerygos doubted them nigh - weren't a whole lot different.
When he closed his maw, he gave a fierce shove with his wings, taking off once again to soar through the skies. Irritated beyond measure with the mortal human that persisted on vexing him, Cerygos roared again: this time, it meant certain death.


Bloodmist trotted arrogantly through the Scourge ranks, which parted dutifully for the commanding presence of the sin'dorei death knight mounted upon the deathcharger. Lethean gazed out from underneath his demonic helm, watching the battles that continued to erupt around him. Behind trailed Zyraneth, the draenei caring naught for a mount though he'd been offered one not once, but twice. Instead, he strode with an air of confidence, smashing in the skulls of any Crusader who was numb enough to come within striking distance of him. Those that were farther away were gripped by shadow magic and brought to him. Lethean nodded his approval.
I wonder where my little pet has run off to, Lethean thought, thinking of Ian. The newly-raised death knight, while powerful and surely retaining some of his experience from his previous life, was still unpredictable. Wouldn't want him getting tempted by the Crusade, now would we? Nor would we want him to fall . . . though that would affect us little. I have my powers to thank for that. Bloodmist continued his trot through the Scourge ranks, but Lethean's attention was suddenly directed elsewhere. It almost felt as if--
Sweeping his gaze over his and the Argent Crusade's forces mingled together, Lethean found the one pair of azure eyes he was searching for. He met Neyira's cold stare and grinned savagely beneath his helm. The true cavalry has arrived, then, he thought, his thoughts awhirl. The others will be nearby. Shadowfrost was sheathed on his back, but now he lifted his right hand, gripping the runeblade around its hilt and drawing it slowly, so that the runes along its length flared brightly, catching the gaze of any who whose attention was divided enough.
"Soldiers of the Scourge!" he cried, allowing his voice to carry across the battlefield. "The Crusade's forces are diminishing slowly; there is no hope for them! We will drive them back, and then crush them when they have no where left to hide!" He paused, lowering Shadowfrost and imbuing it with unholy magic. Zyraneth did likewise with his mace. Lethean released Bloodmist's reins and reached to where a horn forged from cold, grey steel hung from the saddle. He tossed it to Zyraneth, and the draenei caught it and lifted it to his lips.
The daunting noise that resulted from the draenei's gesture stretched to all corners of the battlefield, inspiring the Scourge troops that covered the land like a sea of undead corpses, which was essentially what they were. Lethean, too, drew upon the horn's power and strength, and his grin widened as the death knights and shambling corpses al lroared in savage bloodlust.
"Onward, my minions!" Lethean roared, gripping Bloodmist's reins with a gauntleted fist and whipping them viciously. We'll see how long you fools can really last.

[Pklol]

Ian cut down another solider one after another, anything less than plate was butter beneath his blade. When he heard the cold horn of winter blow, He felt empowered almost instantly. All the death and fear around him he began shaping into a weapon. He turned and ran his blade through the chest of a paladin. He lifted his blade almost effortlessly with one arm, raising the paladin with it. He looked into his eyes as the blood ran down his blade out of the gaping hole now occupied with his blade. Once his life force extinguished he flicked him off his blade without much effort. Ian felt Lethean trying to reach out to him, Ian must of over extended without realizing it, however someone had to stand in the paladin vanguard.

[Darced]

The Argent Crusaders watched from the ramparts of Tyr's Hand. The Scourge was continuing to pour in from the northlands and wounded began to fill the walls. "Milord, we won't hold out too long in the field." The paladin commander nods as the crusader continues the report, "We must fall back. Lord Fordring would agree I'm sure." The commander ceases his nodding, "Very well, signal the army." The crusader salutes and heads past the firing archers and the splashes of water off their bows. The paladin watches as the mists begin to envelope the battlefield and his soldiers fade from view. If the Scourge had a chance at victory it would be this fog. The shroud covers the fields and the rain begins to pour harder. Behind him, the banners are hoisted. The flags display a closed fist and a distant sun, this is the Argent Crusade's banner of retreat and it's been used many time in the recent past. Causis looks up from the walls and lets the rain fall onto his face, "May the Light guard you all."
Aldean watches the lich intently as he floats there, staring in turn. "Cousin?" Darced nods, "I was once a Grey, in life." Aldean does nothing, "I know. As soon as I heard the name Darced I knew you were Teldrion's lost son." Darced squints, Teldrion was his name. Aldean continues, "He told us often about how he had a son. How he left you in Dalaran, how he never knew your fate." The lich smirks, "And?" The warrior continues, "He was heartbroken for all his life. If he knew you were a crony of the Scourge--." Darced interrupts, "My late father's fate does not concern me human. You do however." Aldean's brow raises, "Me?" The lich extends his hand and inside lays a cloth with an S stitched upon it. Aldean turns but Causis is gone. "What have you done to my father?!" He charges the lich who stands motionless, "He was never here. I made a decoy to lure you to this place." Causis' visage suddenly appears before Aldean mid charge, causing him to stop. "Why me?" Darced continues, "As we speak, Sargeras and his minions march from the south, the Forsaken will not hold him for long." The Forsaken?!
"If I am to stop him I need a powerful soldier, a servant." The lich appears behind Aldean and places his hands on the human's shoulders. "I need someone to take care of Causis of the White. Who better than that..." Aldean breaks away and stands ready with both hammers in the fog. "Than his son?"

((My favorite song personally. Go Two Steps from Hell! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N4Y_qI-1I6k))

[xensorlol]

((Sindrannaras ftw? ;3 ;D))

Lethean spotted Ian in the midst of the battle just as the fog began to fall upon both theirs and the Crusade's forces. Lethean's eyes narrowed at first, then he grinned smugly.
"My liege - the mist!" He heard Zyraneth cry behind him. He heard the sound of Steel striking steel and flesh, and the agonized gurgle of a slain Crusader reached his ears.
"Fear not, Lieutenant," Lethean snarled, his sights unhindered by the thick mist that hung low to the ground. "Just imagine it is a light mist, easily looked through. It will hinder the Crusade, not us nor any of our soldiers."
After a few moments, he heard Zyraneth take a few steps to stand beside the sin'dorei. "My liege, they are retreat-"
"I've noticed," Lethean hissed through clenched teeth. "Keep pressing the attack. They will only trap themselves. Once they are barricaded within Tyr's Hand, we will finish them. Ian and his own followers are coming up behind them."



Damn this bloody fog! Darren thought fiercely, gesturing towards a death knight and watching in mild satisfaction as the dark knight combusted. Azure flames licked at his body, and the death knight brushed at himself savagely, rolling in the ground. Suddenly grinning, Darren lifted his left hand, and below the death knight a pillar of lava shot up, consuming the fallen soldier instantly.
He felt a sudden and very-cold hand grasp his throat. He blinked, his vision darkening around the edges as he dropped to his knees, fingers clutching at where the cold grasped him. He forced his head up, and locked his gaze on a single draenei death knight, standing tall, his left hand stretched out in a clutching motion. Darren realized immediately what was happening.
Asphyxiation.
Darren reached deep within himself, gathering up every bit of magic he could. He stretched his consciousness forth, finding that of a lesser death knight, and quickly broke the barriers around his mind and drained his energy, adding it to his own pool of magic. The said death knight collapsed instantly and without a noise.
The young mage then drew forth every last bit of his reserves, unleashing a powerful wave of arcane magic. The wave slammed in to everything within twenty yards of him - allies and enemies alike - including the draenei, who stumbled and fell backwards, his own dark shields deflecting most of the spell. He stood shakily, stretching both hands out towards the draenei, and two massive fireballs shot out. The draenei quickly recovered, mace in hand, and blocked the first fireball. The second, however, struck him with a solid crash, and the draenei was tossed backwards.
Another death knight jumped at him, runeblade flashing through the air. Darren dodged the blow and froze the death knight from the waist down, distracting him long enough so that the young magi could consume him with fire.
The sudden toll on his energy was excruciatingly clear; Darren dropped to his knees, this time in exhaustion. He coughed, sweat dripping down his face and his breath coming out in short gasps.
"Are you all right, Frostwhisper?" an eerie yet warm voice said. Darren looked up, seeing Neyira standing over him. Her armor was covered in gore and dented and slashed in other spots, and there was a gash that ran along the right side of her pale violet visage.
"The hell happened to you?" Neyira just shook her head.
"Lethean's death knights are experienced; they aren't acolytes. The human that fought me before - and nearly killed me - was, however. Newly raised, and still that powerful?" The night elf growled to herself, turning back to the battle. "So?"
Now it was Darren's turn to shake his head. "Those death knights are starting to target me. I guess they are finally realizing I'm more of a threat than half of these Crusaders."
Neyira was about to take a step forward, but Darren reached out a hand, grasping her left forearm. "Don't; we're being ordered to retreat back to Tyr's Hand. We're losing this fight, Neyira. Isn't it obvious?"
"If we barricade ourselves within the walls of Tyr's Hand, we will be slaughtered like lambs, Frostwhisper." she replied, the sound a fierce snarl. She turned to meet Darren's puzzled gaze, and narrowed her own eyes. "Oh, please do not tell me you haven't noticed! Lethean's little "pet" is leading a small battallion of Scourge to flank us! As soon as they decide we're nice and "safe" within those walls, they will descend upon us like flies! At least out here, we can fight!"
Darren's shoulders slumped as he leaned back, falling against a huge rock that jutted up from the crag upon which he stood. "We're finished, then," he sighed. "We either retreat in to Tyr's Hand, at the same time giving ourselves freely to the Scourge; or we continue to fight, and eventually fall."

[Darced]

Meanwhile:

"Aye aye sir!" screamed the deckhand as the captain initiated the signal. The crew had been dreading the sight of Lordaeron, they had traveled a long way from Stormwind and the airship along with it's escorts were running low on fuel and rations. The Skybreaker was within eye sight of the Plagueland's coast and marines had come above moments earlier. The crew was scrambling to prepare the gunship for landing, despite the actual act being hours away. "Gentlemen." The Stormwind marines stood at attention as their commander graced them with her presence. "We have been through a lot in the past months. Scourge in Northrend, Scourge in Lordaeron." The marines stood vigilantly as she continued to speak. "The Scourge are again threatening our world." She watches the marines and crew, "Our homeland of Lordaeron now teeters on the brink of death yet again, by another lich, another army of bones and rot." She stands at the center of the gunship, before her warriors, the Greys. "Darced hopes to break our will, but he hasn't taken something into account." The Greys look on from the deck, rafters and the surrounding fighters. "Us." Arinite of the Grey raises her arms and screams, "WE ARE THE GREYS AND LORDAERON WILL BE OURS THIS DAY!" The soldiers cheer and their cries echo across the sea. Arinite turns to her guest who has been waiting patiently at the end of the deck, held at spear point.
"You have a lot of nerve trying this again." The undead looks to the mage and grins, "I come as a friend today human." Arinite examines the corpse before her, "Who are you? What is your tale?" The undead woman nods, "I am Cheveyos of the Grey." The living Grey guards hold their spears closer to the undead's throat. She raises a finger as if pleading to speak, "We have a bigger problem in the south and the Forsaken need your help." Arinite peers at her undead cousin, "I have no intention of doing that." The undead smirks, "I don't blame you, but hear me out will you?" The mage turns towards the edge and watches the darkening sea, "What is the proposition?"
Cheveyos is released by the guard's grasp and the bat she rode in on is tied. "Sargeras has taken a mortal guise and marches into Lordaeron as we speak." Arinite nods, "The paladins would be invaluable in such a fight. I must bring these men to save them." Cheveyos nods in turn, "I agree, that is why I wanted your permission to share an air space." Arinite watches as Forsaken zeppelins approach from the east, on a direct course. "As you can see human, we are not in proper formation. Should you choose to fire we will be powerless to act." Arinite looks to the advancing fleet, "You hope to aid us?" The undead nods, "This is how the world will end, or be saved." Arinite smirks, "By the Grey's hand?" Cheveyos joins her living counter-part and watches her ships approach, "As it was so long ago. But this time, we will not fail."

And so the Greys stand at the precipice of destruction; once fierce enemies, now desperate allies. The warriors of the Grey family march to war one final time, as one.

Darced appears from the mist before Lethean and presents himself with a bow. "Well well knight commander, it seems my trust was not misplaced." The lich watches as his soldiers continue to charge past and joins the sea of undead warriors. "Quite the battle you've orchestrated. I am pleased, as is our lord." The lich turns toward the battle and marvels at the sight, "The irony of this rain." He extends his hand and allows droplets to form onto his skeletal fingers, "Where normally such would a celebration of life, it shall signal it's demise." He clenches his fist and looks onward, "You will have your victory death knight, your name will echo throughout the ages." He turns to his most loyal servant, eyes aflame with orange light, "I have assured it. As we speak the plan is in motion, all you must do is continue the onslaught." The lich let's loose a piercing cackle, Go my pawn, go to your destiny!


Aldean spots the flag for retreat and clutches his side. He has been wounded and struggles to ascend the hill. Two paladins approach and help him from the field. The set him down in favor of others who have been wounded, a priest tends to Aldean's wound, "This will only take a moment." The warrior nods, "Thank you." He looks around, Darced's words rung through his mind as he examined the castle and it's contents. "Where is Causis? I must speak to him."

[Mengucekli]

Ralof could hardly breathe a few seconds after he smashed on the spine of the wyrm he was clung on. Murderously clever beast made a sudden stop mid-air, when Ralof least expected, and that nearly smashed his ribs into his lungs. His eyes went dark and his body felt like beat down by a thousand clubs, but he did not leave his grasp on the hilt of his sword. That was the only thing that kept him alive at that moment and all of his survival instincts were focused on that grip. He breathed deeply for a few times, and realised they were ascending again. "This won't be good!" he cried, trying to force himself further towards the wyrm's long neck. That was where he planned to strike, and that was the only way his plan could work. He mustered all of his strenght and started climbing towards the head, holding wyrm's spine between flaps and plunging his sword further after each leap.

By the time he reached its neck, he looked way back down, fighting seemed so distant and scourge army looked like an horde of ants invading a piece of cake. He felt dizzy for a moment and turned his face towards his prize: He fought fiercely for his life and that was a well earned prize. He removed his shotgun, and fired off two piercing slug cartridges towards Cerygos' neck. Wyrm roared in pain and shook its head sideways to shove away the pain, but it was in vain. A few huge parts of its icy scales flied away in pieces, and its rotten-frozen flesh was revealed. In desperation, it made a barrel roll, but Ralof was prepared: He held his sword's hilt in one hand and shot another slug into the exposed location with the other. Flesh flied around as the beast turned its body to horizontal again, but its tendons and muscles that were holding its head were exposed. Another roar was heard as it started descending again on the battlefield, and Ralof knew he would be pretty much dead if he stood there for a few more minutes. He reached for his backpack and removed a carefully packed box of explosives. "Enough to blow half of a town!" Ralof cackled as he bent down to place them.. But all of a sudden, Cerygos shook his head harshly, and Ralof lost his ground. He almost flied off to death, he could grasp his sword hilt by mere two fingers. Pack of explosives bounced off his hand, and got stuck on Cerygos' spiky spine by sheer luck. There was absolutely no time for Ralof to go back there and pick it up and be back to the neck in time, and the wyrm would not wait idly meanwhile anyways. At that moment he cursed himself and felt desperation and fear. He was pretty much screwed.

Memories of past flooded his mind at that moment: Of home, of family, of country.. Of things he had lost so long ago, and of things he still had and treasured. Then, he did not know why but, suddenly he remembered a brown bearded, strange dwarf: Guzzlegear. Bronk Guzzlegear. His master and teacher when Ralof studied basic engineering for gunsmithy in Ironforge. He remembered his quote "Do not think like a warrior lad, warriors are fer fightin' an' dyin'. Think like an engineer, if you truly wanna solve a problem.". An idea, a crazy one that is, almost instantly popped up in his mind. Without further concern or hesitation, he reached for his backpack again, this time he was rumbling through gadgets and gizmoz, and found what he was looking for: An hyper-current conductor. He looked up, and he saw how close they were to the clouds which were dangerously loaded with electricity. "That'll do it, if it does not fry me too." he murmured, then looked forward. He started climbing towards wyrm's head, which was an obvious suicide. Even Cerygos was surprised at Ralof's daring move, it grinned evilishly and shouted: "Petty human, tired of waiting for your inevitable end, have you?" taunting him. Ralof answered its teasing with a sword blow to its left intact eye, but wyrm closed its eye with reflexes which made his move ineffective. But Ralof have expected that much and planned accordingly, so in that split second that wyrm was blind, he leaped forward over its forehead and grabbed the harpoon that came out of its right eye socket, and put the capacitor stuck right where it could touch the harpoon. Wyrm felt his leap and saw him right in front of its eye, so furiously roared and shook its head forwards. Ralof lost his grip and slided but managed to hold one of wyrm's razor sharp fangs, effectively leaving him right in front of Cerygos' maw. An evil laughter rose as Cerygos opened its maw to swallow him in, but at that moment out of desperation Ralof drew one of his guns and shot a smoke canister in its maw. Its smell and taste was horrible so Cerygos had to close its jaws, but shook its head fiercely for a second time which threw Ralof free-falling. Cerygos spat out the canister and roared, making a sharp turn to grab totally exposed Ralof mid-air. Beast shouted "Did you think you can get away? Did you think you can hurt me? I will devour you whole, destroy you slowly!" and grabbed him mid air with its front rigth claw. Ralof was looking right into the eye of the beast, and was totally at its mercy.

Manical cackle of Cerygos could be heard even from the ground. That pest, that miserable fragile insect dared to assault its might directly. "And that is the fate of all who oppose us in-" he was murmuring, while opening its gigantic maw to swallow Ralof. Ralof looked high above the clouded sky and made his peace "So be it. For Arathor i give my life." he thought, then he saw a huge lightning crackling towards them. In a split second a blinding flash of blue light filled the air, and lightning struck the unlucky wyrm from its very head, as harpoon acted like a lightning rod and conductor drawed any roaming energy towards it. In shock, an horrible cry could be heard from the beast, then its head fell motionless in front of it. At impact moment, it lost its grasp on Ralof, who started falling down on himself, away from the lightning struck beast. Ralof opened his eyes, and saw the dragon falling directly towards the battlefield, then he realised he was falling too and in panic he pulled a rope in his backpack, a dwarven glider, an altered version of a goblin glider, formed on his back. He picked up the wind current towards Tyr's Hand, slowly gliding.

Cerygos, mortally shot by lightning, fell right in the mid of invading scourge army, right outside the gates of Tyr's Hand. It's razor sharp wings cut many scourge in two as it passed, and many more death knights and ghouls perished under its huge body. As it crashed on the field, pack of explosives fell to the ground near its dead body, and its timer was still on, blinking: 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

Ralof enjoyed the sight of a huge explosion, and a scorching firestorm followed. He could see burning pieces of ghouls and gheists showering around the explosion site, and he giggled as he said to himself "Oh Thor, you are a terrible engineer. Never could adjust the amount of elemental blasting powder on that huh?" then looked at the shocked crowd at Tyr's Hand and said "And if anyone makes a joke about 'that counts as one', i'ma gonna shoot him right in the face.".

[Darced]

Causis watched as the explosion rocked the battlefield and Scourge flew in all directions. The orange glow dissipated after a moment and the paladin lowered his hand, no longer in need of the shelter from the intense light. He smirks as a thought comes to mind, a quote from his death a Southshore years earlier. That still only counts as one! "Stupid dwarves and their excuses. Heh heh."
The commander continued to observe...

[xensorlol]

The death knights - Lethean in particular - were both disheartened and enraged at the death of Cerygos. Somehow, the pesky, persistant human that had before been little a threat, had slain the great frostwyrm. Zyraneth, too, had fallen to the human mage whom they had both underestimated in their previous confrontation.
Lethean's eyes blazed and fury clutched at his emotions as he rode Bloodmist right in to the middle of the Argent Crusade's forces, completely disregarding his well-being; if that was the cost of the Crusade's demise, then so be it.
He uttered a fierce battle-cry, laden with curses spoken in the Scourge tongue as Shadowfrost consumed life after life, carving a furrow in to the heart of the Crusade's ranks. He cared not for his own forces; let them do what they wished to.
Every last one of you miserable fools will die by my hand, Lethean thought, furious. They were losing! Victory had seemed so sure moments ago - what had happened?! Where was Lord Darced, to guide his minions to total dominance? His Lieutenant and their greatest advantage other than their numbers, both slain! Lethean's perfect vision of trapping the Crusade inside Tyr's Hand and finishing this entire war had crumbled in to dust; now the sin'dorei sought vengeance.
As he fought, a voice, calm, caring and yet laced with sorrow pierced his mind: You, one of the few beings I thought would hold true to his word, gave in so easily to the temptations of power and control, she whispered, penetrating deep in to his thoughts. For once, I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could have a friend . . . a true friend, after what had happened to me, after the cold, heartless act that had put me in the state I am in now, she continued, but I suppose I was wrong. After you swore to never again allow yourself to be drawn to darkness. And now you have broken that vow. The vow you made to me. Why?
Lethean growled, shaking his head. "Damn you, Neyira . . . damn you to hell," he snarled fiercely, his eyes widening as the blade of a Crusader flashed in the corner of his vision.
Ducking the blow, the sin'dorei roared, slashing downward with Shadowfrost as the Crusader landed from his leap. The Crusader rolled, narrowly avoiding Lethean's blade, and lashed out with his own weapon, severing Bloodmist's rear right leg. The deathcharger uttered a terrible scream, falling. Lethean jumped from his steed so that his legs would not be crushed, then drew himself to his feet swiftly, readying himself. The Crusader's eyes widened as he met Lethean's gaze.
"Sunfury?!"
Lethean froze, Shadowfrost gripped tightly. I have not heard that name in years . . . "Thomas," he muttered in recognition. "Still fighting for the Crusade?"
"It was known as the Argent Dawn when you and I first fought together, blood elf," Thomas said softly. "I recall a young sin'dorei, full of righteous zeal and fury."
Lethean narrowed his eyes. "I recall a human in his mid-thirties, every bit as dull and slow as he is to this day," he shot back. "The past is the past, and it is time to move on."
Thomas shook his head sadly, sighing. "I know this, Sunfury. As I know that you are not the same person you were before, even when you broke free of Arthas's grip."
Lethean growled. "I am willingly serving the Scourge now, old man. When we first fought together, you insisted you were the better swordsman, even though my skill matched yours easily. And yet still you were always given command, always praised." He adjusted his posture slightly, bringing Shadowfrost in front of him so that its runes shimmered brightly. "Now we will truly see who is the better at this play."
The man, who sported a graying beard and short hair, brown eyes showing wisdom and strength, gripped his shield tighter and readied his own blade. The length of the bright sword was limned with a soft, gold aura. Lethean stood, waiting for Thomas to attack first.
It came; the paladin cried, "For the Light!" and dashed towards the sin'dorei, shield raised to bash him. Lethean anticipated this and side-stepped the wall of steel, slashing in an arc with Shadowfrost. The runeblade bit in to Thomas's shoulder, tearing flesh and muscle, rending tendons and his sword suddenly fell from nerveless fingers.
The paladin cried out in agony, stumbling and striking the ground, writhing in pain; he'd abandoned his shield, clutching his wound with his left hand in a vain attempt to staunch the relentless flow of blood. Lethean approached him steadily, then observed the pain-ridden paladin with contempt before plunging his runeblade in to the paladin's gut. He twitched once, then went still.
Withdrawing his blade, Lethean turned to face his next adversary. "Come . . . come, and meet your inevitable demise."


Neyira's heart was lifted as she watched Cerygos fall from the sky, flames licking at his rotting flesh and exposed bones. As he struck the ground a great explosion rocked the earth, completely consuming the fallen frostwyrm.
Now, as she watched the battle, she saw that Lethean had thrown himself in to the midst of it, his runeblade claiming numerous souls before he was interrupted by a paladin who appeared to recognize him. For a moment she hoped that maybe - just maybe - this paladin could somehow overcome her old friend. Yet even this desperate hope was crushed, as Lethean - seemingly unstoppable - defeated the paladin with ease.
"This has to end, now . . ." she muttered, tightening her fingers around her twin runeblades' grips.
She looked around; the human whom had come out of nowhere and slain the frostwyrm seemed very confident in himself; the forsaken alchemist was nowhere in sight, but Neyira hoped he was doing something. Aldean had been wounded and was now being assisted in his own retreat. The rest of the Argent Crusade was desperately making their way back to the fortified town, and the Scourge were pressing the attack, driving them back despite their swift losses.
Darren, still kneeling beside her and attempting to recover from his near-death experience with one of Lethean's death knights - likely a commander of sorts - coughed and struggled to rise.
Neyira sheathed her runeblades and helped him to rise. She gave him her shoulder for support, and nodded towards him. "Let's get you out of here. We aren't going to get anywhere if we stay out here and continue this foolish fight. We have to get inside Tyr's Hand, regardless if it means the Scourge will trap us."
"I . . . I know this," Darren managed in between ferocious fits of coughs. "And . . . I might . . . have an idea. I need to sp-" He launched in to another fit of coughing, the racking noises causing him to double over in pain. Despite this, Neyira kept her hold on him, and he forced himself back to his feet. "I need to speak with Aldean . . . and quickly." Neyira nodded, and they slowly began to make their way to Tyr's Hand.

[Darced]

Darced watched from the rear, now protected by a contingent of skeletal marauders. He observed as his lieutenant Lethean charged into battle, leaving the lich to his plans. He turned towards the battalion who stood guard before a large tank surrounded by a dark aura. Darced approached the tank with a smirk, "Insurance never hurts Fordring." The lich gazes toward the paladin as his head appears from the void tank, "Fear not, you will be released soon."

The marauders begin to scream as they're struck down by a flurry of arrows. Darced quickly looks around him, but sees no one. "You were careless lich." I know that voice! He turns towards the tank and spots Sylvanas Windrunner awaiting him. She aims an arrow at him and fires; Darced attempts to dodge but notices something. These arrows are filled with arcane energy, why...? The area around him slows and a sudden realization comes to him, She's learned from me! The Banshee Queen fires more arrows and Forsaken troopers charge from the woods. "You were a fool Darced! The Forsaken will never bow to the Scourge!" Darced grins as Scourge rise from the ground, "Very well Banshee Queen, you shall have your war!" Causis must have brought her back, Aldean must hurry.

Aldean ascends the stairs toward Causis and his wound has been healed. The paladin turns to the human, "How do you fare Aldean?" The Grey peers up from his stride, "Is what Darced told me true?" The paladin nods, "The lich is persistent in his attempts. But, Aldean, will you trust the words of a Scourge demon?" He receives an angry stare from the Grey warrior, "You failed to answer my question father." Causis looks intently from his command post, "Is it true?"

[dangelo37]

Oliver stayed close to the Captain and his cavalry. They were a force to be reckoned with. Moving from part of the battlefield to another always keeping the center in check. They corralled a large grouping of skeletal warriors into a tight circle and began attacking them from the outside in. Oliver appeared behind the Captain and shouted, "Pull your men out just a bit. I will take care of these mindless skeletons!" Still weary of the Forsaken but knowing he had good intentions, the Captain ordered his men back a bit.

Oliver rummaged through his satchel and found 2 bottles of a bubbling green liquid. Gripping them both in his enlarged right arm, he tossed them effortlessly into the center of the pack of Scourge all the while gripping his leather pouch in his left. The pouch glowed a bright blue and then the bottles burst. A green puff of smoke appeared and the liquid inside began melting the enemies. Saronite armor and yellowed bones dissolved in mere seconds against the specially formulated acid. Ah!! Yes.. yes... The acid works wonders on saronite. I'll have to report these findings to Master Faranell. "Knights! The flag of retreat has been flown. Fall back!" The Captain and his cavalry began retreating towards Tyr's Hand when the Frostwyrm from before came crashing into the battlefield some distance from them. They stared in awe at the sight of a defeated foe such as it when, only moments later, there was a groundshaking explosion. Bone and icy flesh and blue scales littered the entire battlefield and there was a resounding cheer from defensive army. Oliver noticed a man.... Is he... flying?? No matter. It is time we retreat.

"Ride with me Forsaken. I'll ensure your safety behind the walls." The Captain scooped up Oliver and together with the remaining group went through the gates into Tyr's Hand. As they were crossing the gate into the fortress Oliver felt something tug at him. It was a feeling similar to what he felt when he was raised from the grave. A intense need to go back tugged at his mind. What is this feeling? I have the urge to protect... to sacrifice my very being to ensure someone's safety. But there is only one I could do that for.... is she near? It would make sense being this close to the Undercity but to come herself? There is much more going on here than a mere skirmish with a lich. Oliver attempted to jump off the Captain's steed and was immediately pulled back on. "Stay yourself Forsaken. You will be safe only with me behind these walls. There is nothing out there but death and destruction." Oliver felt the fatigue of battle coming over him and was overpowered into staying with the Captain. I will do whatever it takes to help protect you. Once I have regained my strength, I will see to that.

They crossed the threshold into Tyr's Hand... Now I'm in bed with the enemy.... I hope this is the right choice.

[Pklol]

Funny how things could change in the blink of an eye on the battle. Ian watched the mighty frost wyrm fall and the following explosion almost knocked him off his feet. "So the wyrm has fallen eh, didn't see that happening. I am sure Lethean is thrilled." Ian looked around and saw the acid taking its toll on the troops around him. It was an impressive blend, and ate just about everything. When he saw the burst of Forsaken come from the woods. He wrote "Moving my army to reinforce The Lich" on a piece of parchment and gave it to a gargoyle. "Fly this to Lord Leathan".

"To me..." he called out to the remains of his battalion, he was now seemingly commanding. He mounted a war mount and rode toward Darced full speed with an almost full battalion at his heels. That is when he saw her, the banshee queen herself. "It seems as though the Queen has graced our presence men..." The death knights roared and the ghouls and gargoyles hissed. "To Lord Darced, kill them all..." He pointed his blade at Windrunner. Then his troops came at the forsaken like a plague. Ian took off in a full sprint, cutting down forsaken as he moved towards the lich and the banshee queen.

He fired deathcoil after death coil at anyone in his way. The unholy energy ripped apart the forsaken surprising well. He made it to the Lich, and met an arrow with a death coil to divert it just enough to make it ineffective. "You called, My Lord?"