[A] House Thorn - Now level 9!

Moon Guard
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10/07/2012 05:44 PMPosted by Evonia
I have to say, I really enjoy coming in and checking on your thread. These stories are beautifully written and are very inspiring, great work!

Thank you very much. You're always welcome to visit the website and read the others. Unfortunately due to the forum's code of conduct, we can't always post certain stories here.
10/08/2012 05:13 PMPosted by Erryk
Thank you very much. You're always welcome to visit the website and read the others. Unfortunately due to the forum's code of conduct, we can't always post certain stories here.

Fantastic! I shall have to do that, and very much look forward to reading them.
The Champion

It was late in the evening and Varic could just make out the silhouettes of the guards on either side of the gate in the dim torchlight. He'd been on horseback for much of the past two weeks, journeying from town to town in search of men for the expedition, most of whom were already fighting under someone else's banner. Duskwood had been the worst, poverty everywhere and most of the fighting men had gone off to join the war effort if they hadn't been recruited by the Night Watch. Those who remained were a sorry sight to behold--drunkards, sellswords and liars, not the sort of men his Liege-Lord had in mind for this expedition and certainly not the sort Varic himself would trust in combat. He'd have run half of them through if this were Lordaeron and they had spoken so brazenly about its ruler as they had spoken of Stormwind's King in his hearing.

It was the blackened crest of Lordaeron on his tabard and the badge bearing the sigil of house Blackmorn that caught the eye of the guards at Stormwind's gates, four of them stepping forward to question him. At nearly six and a half feet tall and powerfully built, Varic was an imposing sight in the darkened plate he so often wore, with or without his fearsome greathelm. He wore no helm that particular evening, piercing green eyes carefully scrutinizing the guards as they neared him. The normally clean-shaven Knight now had more than a week's beard growth, though he was still a handsome man in a more rugged sense. He dismounted as the guards approached, half a head taller than any of them and meeting their eyes with a grim expression. His dark-brown hair was touched with a few strands of gray, closely cropped and giving him the look of a career soldier, though he was no ordinary soldier at all. He had been one of the last true Knights of the Silver Hand--anointed paladin defender of Lordaeron by Lord Saidan Dathrohan himself during a time when the order still commanded respect. Varic viewed the new order of the Silver Hand as a mockery, lead by an oath-breaker and a traitor to Lordaeron.

"Your name and purpose, if you please." One of the guards questioned him, his hand resting on the hilt of his longsword while two others flanked him.

"Sir Varic Soren, Knight of Wolf's Crossing and here at Lord Blackmorn's request." He told them, offering no more explanation for his visit.

"Wolf's Crossing, eh? You're a long way from home, Sir Varic..." One of the guards remarked, his voice gruff and aged. He stepped forward and removed his helm to reveal a face the Knight had not seen since Howling Fjord. "Relax, lads. This one's all right." He told the others, pushing past them and clapping a hand on Varic's shoulder. "You look like !@#$, Varic. What the hell have they got you doing now?"

Varic smiled for the first time that evening, shaking his head and chuckling softly. "I still look better than you, Thom. I thought you died at Icecrown..." Varic muttered.

"Might as well be dead." The older man spat. "I was a Captain then, now I'm a glorified sentry... Aye, it's honest work for honest pay, but jailing drunkards and brigands is hardly where I saw myself in my twilight years. Course that's what happens when they label you as unfit for combat." Thom told him.

"I've a feeling you could still cut down this lot like trimming a hedge." Varic remarked, gesturing to the other guards who were all green as the grass outside the gates.

Varic's comment drew the ire of the other guards and a laugh from Thom. "I took an arrow meant for some General and now every time it rains, it feels like someone's driving a pike through my shoulder. No longer fit to serve his Majesty's army, but they had to find something for me to do." Thom told him.

"When you tire of protecting wealthy Noblemen and jailing drunks, come see me at Summer Hall. Lord Blackmorn is planning an expedition to the new continent and we could use a man like you." Varic told him.

Thom nodded, albeit grimly. "Aye... I've heard talk of it. When I saw that ugly thing on your chest, I figured that's why you were here." He told him, gesturing to his tabard. "Everywhere I look these days, I see the crest of Lordaeron in red, blue or black and I hear talk of crusades against the forsaken, the reclamation of Lordaeron and a new Queen on the rise. If I were ten years younger, I'd join you..."

Varic offered the old man a smile before placing his foot in the stirrup and mounting his horse. "You were born in Lordaeron, Thom. Don't forget where you came from." He told him before passing through the gates.
((Sir Varic Soren is an old character of mine and one of two MRP profiles I use for this particular toon. When we decided to do the IC expedition to Pandaria, I decided to bring the character out of retirement, because I've missed RPing him. For those interested in reading more about him, here's a little snippet from a story he was involved in about a year ago.))

The following events take place more than a year ago.

"Bring him inside, Sir Varic." Edric told his Captain of the guard, gesturing to the forsaken scout he and his men had captured just an hour ago.

"Move it, rotter!" One of the guards said sharply, jabbing the forsaken in the ribs with his pike. He'd been bound at the wrists when they brought him back to Rosegarde and remained silent during the ride.

They led him into Edric's study, a guard on either side of him to prevent any possible escape. Edric studied the creature for several moments as he poured himself a glass of wine.

"They say you haven't spoken a word since you were captured..." He mused. "It's always the quiet ones that interest me. You'll talk, soon enough though... I want to know what that knife-eared death Knight is planning. I want to know how many you have at Andorhal and I want to know what you and the other five were doing in my woods." He told the forsaken.

"I serve the Dark Lady and that is all you will get from me." The creature spoke at last.

"Is that so?" Edric's tone was grim as he reached for the smith's hammer that rested on his desk. He looked to the pair of guardsmen and then to Sir Varic, who stood silently beside the door. "Sit him down and untie him." He ordered the guards.

"Are you certain that is wise, m'lord? I don't think--" One of them spoke before his lord cut him off.

"Nobody asked you what you thought. I said untie him, now do it!" Edric growled, watching as the men did as he ordered. "Now hold his hand down so we can have our little chat."

"You waste your time, Lord Blackmorn..." The forsaken hissed through gritted teeth. "You cannot possibly do anything worse to me than what has already been done by the Prince."

Edric's brow arched as he regarded the forsaken with contempt. "The Prince is dead and I'm going to tear you apart, piece-by-piece until you tell me what I want to know. The best you can hope for is that I give you a quick end. Keep testing me and I'll sever your arms and legs, hang you from this tower and leave you like that as a warning to the rest of you bastards. How'd you like to spend the rest of your days like that?" Edric paused, looking to Sir Varic. "Tell me, Sir Varic... Do you think these creatures still feel pain?"

The forsaken let out an eerie laughter, its eyes locked on Edric as it spoke. "You are all doomed. Lordaeron belongs to the dead and we will drive out the living."

"Aye... Aye... So I keep hearing..." Edric told the creature, lips curling into a sinister smile just before he brought the hammer down. The creature's hand was completely shattered, fingers and slivers of bone sent in all directions.

The forsaken scout just sat there laughing in Edric's face. "Did you really expect I'd scream for you, my lord? Did you expect I'd tell you what you wanted to know? I am already dead, you fool!" The creature snarled at him.

Continued >>>

Edric chuckled softly, motioning for Sir Varic to step forward. "Sir Varic here was a Knight of the Silver Hand and he's learned a few things about you rotters." Edric mused. "Isn't that right, Sir Varic? Care to show our guest what you've learned?"

Varic glared at the creature with nothing but contempt, stepping forward as his lord commanded. The forsaken before him was an unholy abomination and the former Knight of the Silver Hand would not shrink from inflicting terrible pain on the creature. His words started out softly, hands beginning to glow with the Light's quiet strength.

"I am a servant of the Holy Light and I fear no evil. I am the sword and shield of the innocent. I am the vengeful striking hammer of the Light's wrath!" His voice rose in volume and at that, a blast of Holy Light shot forth from the paladin's hand, burning the stump where the scout's left hand had once been.

The smell of seared flesh permeated the room and the creature's anguished cries could be heard throughout the tower. Edric sat there sipping at his glass of wine as Sir Varic stepped back, awaiting his lord's next command.

"Now then... Where were we? Right... You were going to tell me how many you have at Andorhal and the location of all your outposts within fifty miles." Edric demanded.

The forsaken lifted his head, eyes meeting Edric's own in sheer defiance. "My name is Terrence Bishop and I serve the Dark Lady, Queen Sylvanas Windrunner. You and your people will leave these lands or join us in undeath!"

Edric shook his head, much like a disapproving parent. "I can't say it's a pleasure to meet you, Terrence... You're ignoring my questions and I don't like having to repeat myself... Makes me want to hit something..." His words were spoken softly, his expression calm as he looked to Sir Varic.

Varic knew what he was to do, stepping forward and casting a flash of Holy Light over the creature. What would heal men could be used to inflict terrible pain on these creatures and Varic knew it, his face a mask of stoic composure as the forsaken scout cried out again in agony.

"My name is Terrence Bishop and I serve the Dark Lady, Queen Sylvanas Windrunner!" The forsaken hissed through gritted teeth.

Edric met his eyes, holding the head of the smith's hammer in his right hand and tapping the haft against the palm of his left. "Your loyalty and courage is commendable, Terrence. But... You haven't answered a single one of my questions..." Edric's words trailed off into a sigh of disappointment.

Terrence Bishop didn't seem to care, nor did he intend to answer any of the questions, which only served to anger Edric.

"You see that man there?" Edric asked, gesturing to Sir Varic. "In a moment, he's going to start channeling the Light into your rotting carcass and I'm not going to let him stop until he's physically incapable of doing so any longer. You can spend the last hours of your miserable !@#$ing existence in excruciating pain or you can tell me what I need to know and I'll put an end to this. What's it to be, Terrence?"
Open RP - The Pandaria Expedition

Starting this Friday, October 12th, <House Thorn> will begin its expedition to Pandaria. For the remainder of the month, we will be traveling to various locations throughout the Jade Forest and creating RP hubs wherever we go. We encourage other guilds and anyone interested in role playing in Pandaria to come and visit us.

Our website http://housethorn.shivtr.com/ will offer regular updates for this storyline, including our current location, should you wish to stop by or get involved in the story.

To answer some questions that have come up lately:

1. Yes. We are always on the lookout for new members.

2. Yes. We welcome characters who are sellswords/free riders that are interested in joining us on the new continent for the expedition. We actually have an IC rank for Free Riders. What is a Free Rider? A free rider is simply a character who fights/serves <House Thorn> without being bound by the same oath as its Knights and guardsmen. They are often paid for their services and considered mercenaries or sellswords.

3. We encourage you to read through all the stories and information on our website before filling out an application. While the application is not the sole determining factor in our decision to recruit you, it does give us a chance to see how well your character fits within the game's setting and whether or not he/she will be a good fit for the guild.

4. No. We don't plan on raiding as a guild, though some of us may do so casually with others. We are a role play guild, first and foremost.
Back to page one!
Erryk I have very much enjoyed reading your post about your guild and the stories. You have made my very boring days at my desk much better good work sir.
Glad I could help stave off boredom. There are more stories on the guild's website, though some may not be safe for work.
I have to say, I am sorely tempted to roll a character to become involved in your guild. The guild, it's characters and storylines are far too intriguing to pass up. However I find I am at a crossroads for which character to pursue.

Perhaps I will be able to borrow a moment of your time one of these days, and pick your mind for some opinions on the matter.
I have to say, I am sorely tempted to roll a character to become involved in your guild. The guild, it's characters and storylines are far too intriguing to pass up. However I find I am at a crossroads for which character to pursue.

Perhaps I will be able to borrow a moment of your time one of these days, and pick your mind for some opinions on the matter.

Feel free to pester me if you see me on any of my toons: Erryk, ßlackmorn, Cresson or Reston. I've been bouncing around between alts a lot lately.
10/11/2012 03:11 AMPosted by Erryk
Feel free to pester me if you see me on any of my toons: Erryk, ßlackmorn, Cresson or Reston. I've been bouncing around between alts a lot lately.

Awesome, I shall see if I can catch you online soon!
I have to say, I am sorely tempted to roll a character to become involved in your guild. The guild, it's characters and storylines are far too intriguing to pass up. However I find I am at a crossroads for which character to pursue.

Perhaps I will be able to borrow a moment of your time one of these days, and pick your mind for some opinions on the matter.

Erryk, you guys are likewise on my radar. Really busy with leveling and Order of the Orchid right now, but if I come up with a character that would fit nicely I'm definitely jotting it down for development!
Back to the first page!

We're finally heading to pandaland IC this evening! If I ever finish with work... *rolls eyes*
Dawn's Blossom

It was early in the evening when they stepped through the portal, an expense born of necessity in Darion's eyes. Some thirty horses and four wagons filled with supplies would have taken months to reach the new continent by ship and two-thousand gold pieces seemed a small price to pay for the convenience of immediate transportation. Most of their party had never seen a pandaren before arriving at the village of Paw' Don, their faces alight with awe as they formed up just outside the village. It was a new world, rich in ancient culture and resources--resources that they lacked in Northern Lordaeron. They quickly discovered that they were not alone in their ambition, several other parties under various banners having arrived before them.

Darion's first order was to send a small group to the nearby village of Dawn's Blossom to secure shelter and establish a temporary base of operations for their expedition. Dawn's Blossom, located in the center of the Jade Forest was an important stop for travelers, and had not taken a side in the Alliance/Horde conflict. It would serve as a staging point for their efforts on the new continent and Darion intended to make a good first impression. It would be Sir Erryk Thorn, Captain Gioia Izar and his wife's Niece, Aubrye Holfmann to make first contact with the Toya and the local authorities.

To be continued...
OOC Notes:

<House Thorn> will be temporarily based out of Dawn's Blossom while exploring the Jade Forest over the next several weeks. During this time, we encourage anyone interested in open-world RP to contact us. Our goal is to make contact with as many other guilds/individuals as possible in order to turn Dawn's Blossom into a temporary RP hub. Anyone interested in helping us do so should contact Erryk or Aubrye.
Due to a family emergency, tonight's RP will have to be postponed. Apologies to those who planned on being there. I will be available tomorrow.
This weekend turned out to be a rather stressful one, so apologies for not being around much. We will be in Dawn's Blossom later this evening, so feel free to stop by.
A Farewell To Innocence

Like most fall mornings in the Reach, the cold winds blew, rain falling steadily while men worked in the harbor. Carrying crates of all sizes, the dock hands loaded the largest of the Reach's ships, the Tide's Mistress. Word had come from the new continent, announcing the beginnings of trade with the Pandaren and all the people of the Reach rejoiced in the news. It meant the end of a long period of poverty, but it also meant a long, treacherous voyage to the shores of Pandaria while the Alliance still waged war upon the Horde.

Reston Thorn made his rounds, his long, oilskin cloak flowing in the wind as he strode across the dock for a word with the ship's Captain. "Captain Molsen." Reston barked, raising his voice above the din of the workers.

"Aye, Sir. We'll be ready to set sail within the hour." Molsen informed him, anticipating the Captain of the Guard's question before he could ask it. "Light willing, we'll reach the shores of Pandaria within a month."

Reston simply nodded, shifting his gaze to the nearby workers. "It's a pity Lord Edwin couldn't see it..." His words trailed off as he looked out over the water. "It would have been a comfort to him to know all was well."

Lord Edwin had died peacefully in his sleep just two nights past, discovered by his chambermaid when she came to bring him his morning tea. The boys had taken it the hardest, the loss of their Grandfather while their Father was so far from home made for somber moods, but none more so than Edric. With his Grandfather dead and his Father on another continent, he would serve as lord of the Reach and such responsibilities would not wait while he grieved.

With Sir Jon Cresson at his right and his younger brother at his left, the young lord of the Reach was seated in his Grandfather's chair in the great hall while men and women came to offer their condolences and bring to his attention, matters they considered to be of great import. Edric was in no mood for any of it. "How much longer will this take, Sir Jon?" He whispered to the stoic Knight beside him.

Sir Jon set a large hand on the boy's shoulder, offering him a knowing look. "I know you'd rather be doing a hundred other things, but as lord of the Reach while your father is away, you must see the people and address their concerns. It will get easier. I promise." The Knight told him, returning his attention to the next man who approached.

Joseph Enfield was a man of fifty and a former soldier who had lost his right hand in a battle against the scourge. His expression was sour as his mood that morning and Edric couldn't help but wonder why. "Mister Enfield. Please... Speak." The young lord told him.
Enfield didn't kneel, nor did he afford the boy the same courtesy and respect he'd have afforded his Lord-Grandfather as he approached the table. His brown eyes were filled with anger and when he spoke, his tone was far less than cordial. "My sons are dead." He growled. "The rotters came in the night, this evening past... slaughtered them like cattle when they tried to defend our home. My wife and daughters barely made it out alive." He told them, looking to Sir Jon expectantly.

Edric met the man's eyes, empathy in his own as his lips curled into a frown. "As if things weren't bad enough..." He muttered softly to the Knight beside him.

Sir Jon nodded grimly, looking to Edric. "I can put together a dozen good men and hunt them down." He said after a long silence, fully expecting to be denied permission to do so.

It was Lord Edwin's chief adviser, Sir Martin Wells who protested. Wells was an aging Knight of sixty-four and had long served on Lord Edwin's military council. He shook his head, speaking quietly to Edric and Sir Jon. "The Enfield cottage is at our southern border. If the forsaken should mount an attack on the Reach, those men will never make it back here in time to defend the Keep. It would be wise to send a few of the guard instead." He told them.

Edric met the old Knight's eyes with a scornful look. "If we can't protect our own people, why should they fight for us when we need them?" The young lord questioned him. Not waiting for Sir Martin's reply, Edric looked to Sir Jon. "Sir Jon, take the men you need. See to it that Mister Enfield's home is secure and that the forsaken who murdered his sons are dealt with swiftly." He then rose from his Grandfather's chair, looking to Enfield with no small measure of regret. "I cannot give you back your sons, but I swear by the Light, those who took their lives will pay and your wife and daughters will never know such danger again."

The hall went silent for a moment and Sir Jon couldn't help but smile at young Edric. He was his Father's son indeed, the Knight thought to himself. Enfield inclined his head to the boy, some of the rage fading from him as he spoke at last. "Thank you, m'lord. Light bless you." The old soldier then turned on his heel and marched out of the hall.

Edric returned to his seat with a sigh, glancing up at Sir Jon. "Have Father Daniels speak with the Enfields after he's finished preparing Grandfather. Their sons deserve a proper burial..." His words trailed off into silence as he glanced out the window at the pouring rain. Light, when will it ever stop? He wondered.

To be continued...

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