[Closed SRP] Assault on Chillwind

[Nonfictionless]

((This is a closed RP for myself, Synaxis, Madgod and Kazat))

A frail looking shadow priest walked the halls of Undercity accompanied by two particularly fearsome Deathguards. They bore the colors and crest of the Banshee Queen, her personal soldiers. They passed through the halls fast as all Forsaken gave them a wide berth. They strode through the military ward till they came upon their intended recipient. "Commander Acnoctus Shadowspire. A missive from the Dark Lady. Do not disappoint." He handed a sealed scroll to Acnoctus and walked away with his guard.

On the inside:

Commander Shadowspire,

Recent events in the south have made this the perfect time to push the last of those Alliance loyalists of the Argent Dawn out of the Western Plaguelands. Head to Andorhal and meet Sergeant Nicolas Whitter. He has a small platoon ready for your assault on Chillwind. Take personal and supplies you deem necessary.

Do not come back if you fail.

Attached on the back is a field report detailing important Argent Dawn personal still at Chillwind and their suspected numbers.

[The Madgod]

The death knight took the missive with a derisive snort and broke its seal. He revered his Banshee Queen, as much as any Forsaken would at least, but he detested the filth she sent whenever she needed him. Despite his death, he was quel'dorei, and that meant he couldn't be bothered with riff-raff. Reading it quickly, he crumpled the letter and began to walk to one of the rings where soldiers were being trained. Throwing the crumpled parchment into a braizer, he watched the encounter. It was five forsaken soldiers versus a large vrykul, one of the few that had joined the Forsaken since the events in Northrend. Prior to receiving the scroll, Acnoctus was tasked with training a small group of soldiers. Rather than do anything himself, he had given the task to his servant Olaf. Before going to visit the others he decided to watch the vrykul teach these Forsaken what it meant to be strong.

After the bout, he walked into the ring, holding up a hand. "That's enough, that's enough. To think you couldn't even dent his shield. Shameful. Pathetic! Get back to your target dummies. Someone more used to fighting weaklings like yourselves will be brought here for you to fight. Perhaps a basket of kittens will prove more equal combatants."

He motioned to Olaf, and left the area, expecting the vrykul to follow.

[Deleted]

Olaf controlled his breathing as he starred down the five forsaken that his commander had put him in charge to spar with, the five spread out into a half circle in front of the Vyrkul. Olaf drew in one last deep breath before he let out a roar which made the small forsaken hesitate, he launched himself forward towards the one furthest on his right. The forsaken tried to block the Vyrkuls wooden mallet with his sword, but the sheer impact from Olaf's incredibly strong strike ripped the sword from the forsakens hand. Before the undead could react Olaf had sent another bone crushing strike against the undead, striking it in the chest. If Olaf had wielded his axe in this fight the forsaken would have been nearly split in half but Olaf did not wish to anger Commander Acnoctus no matter how weak those he were set to train were. Now the blow simply made the forsaken lift of the ground and slam into another of his friends who were coming to his aid. Olaf leaped over the two fallen, the remaining three had once again formed a sort of half circle in order to surround him, this time Olaf simply rushed forward huddling behind his large shield he tackled into the middle one, it was barely as if would have slowed him down. After throwing the forsaken trainee he spun around seeing the last two attack in unison, but Olaf easily deflected one of their swords with his shield as he at the same time smashed his mallet into the other ones helmet. Before the forsaken could sink down into a pile on the ground Olaf dropped his mallet and gripped the creature by its shoulder and lunged it towards his companion. As the two fell into a pile on top of each other Olaf took the few steps forward to deliver the final blow with his boot he heard his Commanders order. Reluctant he backed away from the two forsaken, one of which was still conscious.

Olaf let out a chuckle at Commander Actnoctus insulting words to the forsaken soldiers. He obediently followed his commander away from the trainees whom most of them would be in need of medical care. Where are we going Commander Actnoctus? If I may ask, I am tired of these useless bags of meat.

[Synaxis]

Noxvari was studying.

Deep underground, on one of the lowest layers of the Undercity's buried core, was a veritable labyrinth of fairly nondescript buildings used in various different ways. Within one of those buildings was Noxvari, in an almost entirely dark room with no windows and only one very solid door. The only sources of light in this dim room was a simple, faint candle at one far corner and a massive, dimly-lit display hovering just a couple of inches above a tall stone dais. In the center of the dais was some variety of magical mechanism, like a sphere ribbed in metal and containing a soft blue light which it then projected upward into the holographic image Noxvari was observing. It was one of the Kirin Tor's finer creations, knowledge that was not lost following the Sunreavers' eviction. She had insisted on acquiring this, though it was modified slightly for use. It was an invaluable tool.

The holographic image was a pale arcane blue and textured - it was a map, complete with topography, raising hills above the plains and valleys below. Bright colored lines indicated territory borders, and colored diamonds and dots spread throughout indicated what could only be assumed to be troops and settlements. It was an imperfect design - unfortunately there was no way to automatically update the movements of opposing troops, it had to be manually updated based on information gathered by scouts - but it was a more complete picture than what various maps drawn on parchment could provide. Noxvari spent many hours leaning slightly over this map, occasionally tweaking positions as needed, but mostly observing. The troop movements had courses charted in faint dotted lines trailing behind them. All in all, an extraordinarily informative map.

It was focused on the northern Eastern Kingdoms. Much of the Alliance's main force had been sent to the lands beyond the mist to participate in territorial squabbles there.. she had no interest in this. On one hand she almost hoped the king's troops would flatten Garrosh and teach him humility, but on the other hand, having the Stormwind army decimated on the shores of Pandaria would be plenty convenient for her. As it was, the reduced number of military personnel meant that the Alliance settlements in the Eastern Kingdoms had limited options for backup should any problems arise. It made them soft targets. It made them easy pickings.

But Nox was not eyeballing any Alliance settlements. No, she was gazing contemplatively at a small, brightly lit section of the map, a valley almost entirely surrounded by mountains in the northern Plaguelands, labeled by an appropriate, pale-yellow dot. Hearthglen. A subtle gesture on her part zoomed the map in closer to the Argent Crusade settlement. They were tolerated - for now - but projects in the Plaguelands had been more than once hindered by their presence. Someday.. They could not stay there forever.

She zoomed the map back out with another subtle gesture and returned to gazing at the map as a whole, observing the movement of troops - or lack thereof - throughout the Hinterlands. Aerie Peak, hmmmm...

[The Madgod]

"We are going to visit a... friend." said the death knight. "She's going to help us with a little assignment the Dark Lady has given me."

The pair walked deeper and deeper into the bowels of the Undercity, till they came to a building in a large cave. Acnoctus was a little irritated that she would be this far down, but she was never exactly... sociable, at least since her death. This was where she apparently was. The death knight opened the door. "Noxvari. You in? The Dark Lady wants some death dealt, and I'd rather hate to disappoint."

[Synaxis]

The sudden opening of the door and change in pressure caused the candle in the corner of the room to flicker and the magical map to suddenly warp and become illegibly fuzzy. She had just been in the middle of a thought regarding whether dealing with trolls on a constant basis would even be worth taking Aerie Peak and correctly evicting the high elves when the intrusion happened, and when it did, she just shut her eyes and let out a quiet, long-suffering sigh. Could not even complete a thought..

"Whatever the Dark Lady requires, I am happy to provide," she replied smoothly. The magical mapmaker had readjusted to the pressure in the room but the light seeping in through the open doorway made it all but impossible to read. "Shut the door and fill me in on what kind of death dealing we are discussing here."

An actual look over to the doorway revealed to her a significantly larger form trailing Acnoctus. Being backlit, Olaf's features were not clearly discernible to her, but a quick survey of his build said vrykul. They were formidable opponents but priceless allies; she could quite clearly remember hoping not to encounter them in the frozen northern wastes prior to her death, but she could just as clearly remember the absolute sadistic glee that came with watching her former allies, the Ymirjar, decimating opponents of the Scourge with brutal efficiency.

"Interesting choice of companion," she added.

[The Madgod]

"Helped him out of a tight spot in Northrend." said the death knight, as he entered the building. "At any rate... this death dealing... I have been told that Chillwind camp is to be no more. We depart immediately."

Looking around, he couldn't see Aland, a rather common sight whenever he was around Noxvari. "Wheres the priest? I'd like to take him with us as well."

[Deleted]

Olaf followed Acnoctus into the room, squeezing himself through the too small doorway for his large stature. The only thing that truly bothered him with this city was the small buildings, if this continued he probably wouldn't be able to stand straight even under the clear sky as his back would be bent like that of an elder. He tried to give what should have been a respectful nod to the female elf in the room but as he was standing it looked more as if he was bowing.

Olaf let out a low grunt as he sat down on the floor next to the door, allowing him to stretch his back a bit as he leaned against the wall. He started fingering with his chain mail armor while waiting for the two undead to finish up their business.

[Synaxis]

"Chillwind," she repeated thoughtfully, gently touching the spot on the magical map where the camp was. The light bent and migrated toward her finger every time she touched the dot there, almost sticking to her fingertip when she drew her hand back a bit. "The old Argent camp? They have been lucky to survive this long," she mused. Chillwind was one of only a few Alliance settlements left in the region. That it still survived was more due to sheer luck on their part; they had done well to stay out of the way, which had kept them pretty well out of the line of fire up to this point. Activity was rarely reported in the region of Chillwind Camp and Nox figured this was likely due to deliberate timing on their part; they couldn't possibly be self-sufficient as they were, so supply lines were necessary and the apparent lack of them moving in the area was surely careful planning.

"I'm sure they've realized it's only a matter of time," she added with a smirk, straightening up and pressing a spot along the side of the stone dais. The image blurred and suddenly died, killing the soft blue glow and leaving the room almost entirely dark save the tiny flame burning near the end of its wick in the corner of the room. It was no fire hazard to anything, so Nox did not bother to put it out before she went to the door. Acnoctus referring to Aland as 'the priest' got a slight huff of laughter from her. Not quite a word she would use; last she checked, most priests would damn near collapse under the weight of a short sword let alone anything like Aland's weapon of choice. She didn't argue it - the term amused her, actually - but with a single glance along the faint mental connection to him that she had maintained since his death, she knew he was where he often was: with the Cultists.

"Where he usually is. At the.. church," she replied, hesitating for a moment because she wasn't really sure she'd consider the Cult's base of operations much of a church, really, but it was the best she had. "He is always ready to leave at a moment's notice. Best get moving."

[The Madgod]

Ignoring the little laugh that he got from calling Aland a priest - an accurate description - the death knight nodded. Making a quick motion to Olaf, he turned sharply and left without another word.

~~~

Acnoctus and the group had arrived at the church Noxvari mentioned. It was a short walk away, in an adjacent tunnel. Looking at it, Acnoctus was reminded of when the Forsaken were not as well established as they were now; when they had no buildings to truly call their own and simply used the ruins left over after the Butcher's Scourge sacked Lordaeron. It was small and in ruin, with a blackened and cracked star, an obvious mockery of the symbol of the Holy Light above the door.

The death knight opened the door. Not really caring to search for the priest, Acnoctus simply called out for him. "Aland Wood."

[Nonfictionless]

A few priests dotted the pews of the Cult's Church a dark room with a few candles spread out. No real leadership to be seen but still very much like any other church. They all faced the same way and even held a podium at the front. Most followers dressed the same in simple black cloth, but Aland. He sat in the back wearing dark plate-mail armor with a large claymore propped up next to him. Attending these group meditations had become a regular occurrence since his rebirth. They provided an insight into how the Cult worked but past that he saw no point to them. Something about the ritual was just stuck in his behavior. But still on the occasional day he took this time to meditate aswell. His eyes were closed and in deep thought about the connections of hatred used in the manifestation of the Shadow and the Light and how they both effected death. It was a complicated matter that he felt he barely touched the surface on, even after many conversations with the one Shadow Ascendant that lurked around their section of the Cult.

His train of thought was broken at the mention of his name from someone due respect. He rose and began to strap his claymore onto his back since this person was not here for anything less than something important. Deathknights he had found after getting to know some of them rarely did anything not important. It usually involved killing but not so absentmindedly as he once thought while alive. "Yes, Commander Shadowspire." He paused for only a second as he saw Noxvari behind him, "Lady Noxvari." He gave them both a slight nod as a sign of respect. He both knew them well enough by now to know they didn't care for anything more. "Work to do? I'm ready to leave." As he moved into the much brighter tunnel his features didn't change with the light but seemed to appeared to remain sunk in the shadows.

[The Madgod]

The death knight nodded curtly at the priest. Both of them were alike in at least one aspect: They were military men. There was little need for discussion between them. They simply needed enough information to not be going into a conflict blind. "We're to exterminate the remaining Alliance within Lordaeron. Orders from the Banshee Queen herself. We depart for Chillwind post immediately."

[Synaxis]

Nox had gone along without a word and deliberately didn't say anything upon approaching the cult's church. They were a weird bunch, the cultists; rarely ever seen outside their hidey-holes, they had always seemed... distant to her. They avoided not only conflict but contact in general but at the same time seemed to always appear when something interesting was happening. Such was the case now. The death knight noticed one of the elder cultists near the door of the church eyeballing the small group with a mixture of apprehension and interest. The apprehension was definitely a good idea on his part but the interest was definitely not; what was going on out here was none of his concern. She was about to usher the others away from the door but words were exchanged before she could and the cultist, who had been not-so-subtly leaning a bit closer to catch any juicy details - for this sort of stuff was hardly more than gossip to them - promptly returned to genuinely tending to whatever it was he was actually doing. Noxvari felt a slight twinge of annoyance that quickly turned into impatience.

"Yes," she said flatly, starting down the tunnel once more. '"Should be a fun surprise for them."

[The Madgod]

((Uh... Fic... I think considering it's your thread and you and Kazat are the only two to not have posted yet in the cycle... think it's your turn and that you should be moving us forward))

[Nonfictionless]

((Alrighty then!))

Chillwind. It had been a long time since he had been to that camp. He knew most of the senior officers there. Most of whom he wouldn't call friend but he could trust and now they were all just enemies. Their ideals hadn't changed and neither really had his, truly the only thing between them was life. He felt the same for them as all other Light-wielders, anger with a small bit of pity at its core. Although he had to admit some excitement, surely the only ones left at Chillwind were veterans. "Good. Ever since the Crusade took Hearthglen the plaguelands have been a bit too bright."

Without much further talking they departed for the surface and acquired their flying steeds, setting off for Andorhal. The best thing he found about being undead was not needing supplies or rest. Once the fight began it was bound to end only one way; Death.

((Figured I'd allow you the honor of landing but you know yadda yadda inbetween and what not =D ))

[The Madgod]

Andorhal was an interesting town. Even now you could see past, present, and future within it. The past was the utterly destroyed ruins of the town from the days of the Third War. That state was also its present; an incomplete form, for there were buildings that stood tall aside the ruins, which were its future, for they were creations of the Forsaken, who had won the town from the Alliance and were presently tasked with its reconstruction.

The group circled around the freshly built buildings for a couple laps as they landed. Immediately after stepping foot onto solid ground a group of deathguards marched up to them. They were accompanied by a single man, one who's name was not foreign to the death knight. "Sergeant Whitter," said Acnoctus. "We have come."

[Synaxis]

(real life is a pain in the ass sometimes yaknow?)

Andorhal was one of Noxvari's favorite cities to visit simply because it was quite possibly the most fun to take. The Forsaken's trademark indigo and black buildings were popping up in an ever increasing portion of the otherwise ruined city, spreading outward from the northeast corner that had been the first to fall to them. Even in the ruined sections of the city that had not yet been rebuilt, Forsaken laborers could be spotted milling about the streets from above, moving supplies or materials from one part of the town to another. From above, it was quite fascinating to watch them moving around in much the same manner as worker ants.

On landing, Noxvari stretched for just a moment after her feet touched solid ground again, and she met the approaching deathguards with a completely level stare, which they returned unflinchingly. Well trained. The man at their head gave a short, nod to the newly arrived group, briefly glanced to each, and then replied smoothly, "With impeccable timing as always, Commander. We are ready to depart when you are. The way out of the city has been cleared ahead of your arrival." He nodded again and then stood straight. Nox had already lost interest in him and was already looking toward the south, in the general direction of Chillwind.