World of Warcraft™

"What is dead may never die!"

Unison guided the crowd's repeat of this fervent shout, the creed of House O'Shaunessy. A repeated rhythm reverberated throughout the water-filled air of the swamp-like corner of the Broken Cliff. Two swift thumps upon a drum, or perhaps multiple, followed by three other thuds in quick succession. Booming and blasting, the noise of uproar combined with the hymn wrought on by the drums in the distance seemed to draw joy to the man of the hour's face - Lord Cerebis.

Dutifully smiling, his eyes glimmered with a certain pride. Amused by the outcome, but almost jealous of all the attention sprung at someone else his grin faded. Contorting down to a stern frown, his lips pursed before he stamped his foot down, using that forceful momentum to spring him from the throne of ram horns and leather from which he sat. The anthem of execution and excitement ceased all at once, with a small whisper of voices off, scattered about the crowd to remind him of any shortcoming.

"What is dead may never die; but what does live must have life."

Their lord and master had a most reverberant, smooth voice that bounded off the sides of nearby willow trees to inform all of his most gracious presence. Possessed of a certain quality of regality, the man had a shining face matched only by the ruby glow of his flowing hair and beard. A man not of truth; but rather of ignorant beauty. He was by all means a pretty-boy.

"We are gathered here to serve witness to a reminder. To bring back the memory of why we are strong, why we are united, and why we are the truest and most pious of all groups or creeds within the fickle, dying land that surrounds us."

His right hand motioned to a very well dressed man. Sporting what appeared to be a dinner suit sewn from rare Uldum cloths, this formality was matched by various bits of golden jewelry. The man was well fed, boasting a rather large gut and multiple chins. Bald and pale as the skin of a cow, the man seemed more sick than frightened.

"The man that stands before you is a traitor to your house - Our house. Serving the Alliance as a Stormwind banker, it is he who squanders gold from our organization. It is he who keeps food and water from the mouths of your children. It is he who funds the weak city of Stormwind in their false endeavors of peace. It is he who shall receive your lord's justice."

Once again, the sound of disgusting delight echoed throughout the small section of the swamp. Cerebis treated himself to another grin, his teeth poking out in all their pearl-like glory. Eyes fixated on that cheering crowd, he basked in their attention for a few moments. Members of the council stood on the scaffolds with him, some were disconcerted and bowed their heads and others were nearly more satisfied with the feast to come than their lord of the cliff.

"So it has been decreed, so shall it be. My justice - Burn the sins and betrayal from his flesh. May the charred smoke that is his soul ascend to the heavens if he is just, or linger in a sick scent below if he be the monster of the alliance that we know him as!"

Without a moment's hesitation, the lord's justice rose. A woman, relatively thin with darker hair. In her cloak she seemed the shadow of death itself, with fire burning with a crack at her hands. Pleading and screaming, the fat banker tried to wrestle off his chains. Chains of gold. For irony. Lord Cerebis always enjoyed irony.

"What is dead may never die!"

The crowd reverberated the credo, hiding the man's hideous wails of torment. The light of justice shone high into the night sky as the Lord' justice set the man ablaze. All of the crowd looked, the council was mixed. Brewhammer had walked away, he would be approached about that for certain. In the meanwhile, flesh began to blacken as it crisped and boiled its way off the banker's bones. Snaps sounded as flesh tore apart to unlink the bursting organs inside. Cheering continued; some shouted the oath of the Gilded Horn, some shouted their own hoots and hollers. All the while, Lord Cerebis simply smiled at his success.

The smoke lingered below, as it always did. So was the man condemned to the great dark. Both of them.

About The Gilded Horn:

We are by all means a house-style role-play guild. A genre that has been done to death, that has been done incorrectly, and that should rarely ever be done - Right? Not for this order.

Using multiple inspirations, The Gilded Horn, is centered on the idea of medieval realism. We embrace the corruption of humanity, and all the effects therein. An independent realm based in the Swamp of Sorrows, we have several different themes to offer for those interested. These consist mostly of darker themed role-play that can be considered mature to some aspects. We are not erotic in the slightest; however, we do present some ideals and truths about the human condition that may not be for the weak of heart. If you're looking for somewhere happy, nice, and blissful on an in-character level this is NOT the place for you.

We have a multi-rank system, new members will start out as a citizen. From there they can choose to advance their path over time, if so they desire. From there we can offer Soldier or Squire positions. Thereafter very few people may qualify to be Knights or members of the Council (Should the loss of a Council member occur). Above the council lie the Castellan, Lady, and Lord of The Broken Cliff.

Officers to contact are Cerebis, Kyrstra, Brewhammer, Aelitah, Ournomas, Credin, or Amyrissa.

Credit goes to Brewhammer for the story. 'Twas not I that wrote it. :V

Smiles from the Lord's justice. Good, dark stories with a purpose - not just a bunch of scattered, misplaced meetings that have no long-term goal. I like it. I love it. I want some more of it! :3

My life for Lord O'Shaunessy!

What is dead may never die!

FOR.
THE.
ALLIANCE.
and house o'shaunessy too

Kudos to this Brewhammer person for coming up with the good read.

Good luck with the guild. It sounds like you guys are off to a promising start.

Kudos to this Brewhammer person for coming up with the good read.

Good luck with the guild. It sounds like you guys are off to a promising start.

I feel like we have, considering this just marks our 'official' start at recruitment yet somehow we've made 20 members of all great quality before we've even started. That is something I am proud of and feel is a good foundation for our start.

ps

ilu connie

Katrina steepled her fingers together as tensely as she could manage. The eagerness to do something devilish burned within her blood and soul but she couldn't possibly simply burn the man as instructed. No. That would be far too easy. A simple phrase - a mere whisper from her graceful, full lips - and it would all be over. He wouldn't feel a thing. What point would there be in such a quick destruction and searing of the blood vessels and nerves; cauterizing everything and leaving him with scorch marks and thanking the Light the pain was only temporary.

Some hours and many echoing, hellish screams later, Katrina emerged from the place many around the compound had come to affectionately refer to as the 'Pit of Despair;' her robes splashed in blood and the tips of her fingers semi-blackened from the use of fire. Her ministrations could still be clearly evidenced by the tingling sparks that brightened around her fingertips. Such a dark, cruel, sadistic expression crossed her young features. At three-and-twenty, many paled at how such a lovely young woman could take such demonic pleasure in her work.

No one dared crossed House O'Shaunnessy who didn't have nightmares of what would happen if the 'dragon lady' were called in. Her apprentices - the few who had sought to follow her example - were almost as cruel as she, but for those who heard her name called for their punishments... either never repeated another crime or were simply never heard from. Her work was never short of efficient.

Got a great a great group of people here. Been nothing but fun, rainbows and sugar cubes since I joined.

I wish I could write on the forums all cool like. <3

I'm not going to try to be clever with bumping the thread. Back to the top!

I'm clever and devious enough for all of us.

Buuump.

The Magus Extraordinaire quietly stared at the brick wall of his home, humming quietly to himself as he observed, thinking and musing to himself. His home was particularly medium sized. A living room, a bedroom and a kitchen to go with the study he had made the second floor out of was all he needed. There were no fancy 'electric' lights as some had, instead preferring to use candlelight.


As Ournomas traced delicate fingers along the bricks on the dimly lit brick-walled study, he finally came to what was his conclusion. The gears ticked in his mind, the thoughts racing through as words came to his lips. He spoke in clear spellspeech, the heat draining from the room. His fingertips began twiddling together, a smooth azure trailing down Ournomas' veins and lighting them, paling his skin in comparison.

Finally, the last word of spellspeech flew from Ournomas' mouth and a powdery yet incredibly sharp stream of frost assailed the bricks, painting them a new color. Each layer of brick was removed to the deepest red, whilst other bricks had only white on them. Some a different shade of scarlet.

The powdery ice's ash finally settled, melting away with red chips staining Ournomas' study's wood floor. He smirked at his success, and so was born the tabard of the Gilded Horn in his very own house. A copy of red background, a gilded rim and an exact same gilded ox at it's center. It was perfect.

That's why Katrina can't live with you. Ice bricks.

Bump.

Back up there. We have more plans for the lot of you.

My bumps, my bumps, my lovely little bumps.