Twilight Patrols ((Closed/Structured RP)) 3

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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Wulf turned to the Kaldorei who had addressed her and bowed to her. In perfectly accented Darnassian she returned the compliment, "Elune be with you sister, by the grace of the Goddess I serve the Earthen Ring...I serve the Goddess first and the Kaldorei people of course. We must all do our part to insure the safety of the planet and the future of our world. You have been with this band long? They seem disorganised and lacking in discipline...but I do not judge, none are is good to see another Kaldorei...I miss my family greatly, though we are so scattered it is hard to tell where they are from day to day." she smiled gently.

The slender druid thought of all Kaldorei as her family, though she only had a few that she was actaully related by blood. "I lost my parents long ago to a strange attack that left me as a baby in the Moonglade. Being raised by the druids in the glade they gave me a healthy openminded outlook...I had one sister, but we lost track of each other a few months ago...perhaps you might have seen her? Her name is Faythalla." Wulf looked hopefully at the other Kaldorei. It was not unusual for Fayth to go many months without contact. They often ran into each other on different missions and laughed at the sheer laziness of each of them in keeping contact.

"She is my older sister and we often go months not seeing each other...I had hoped to see her come here eventually so we could catch up on things." She was not perturbed at the lack of contact and looked around to see if anyone else had heard or seen Faythalla.

I had one sister, but we lost track of each other a few months ago...perhaps you might have seen her? Her name is Faythalla.

Perfection cringed at these words, unwanted memories flooding back into her mind about how many died in the Patrols service. She lowered her arms and walked over to the slim Kal'dorei woman and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. She sighed "Ma'am...there's..." she swallowed a lump that had rose in her throat. She had to keep herself togeather, she couldn't let all of the pain and suffering she had saw come flooding back into her mind.

I'm and matter where I go, no matter what I do, there is always going to be someone that wants to kill me or someone else. And I must fight matter what I do, the fate of another person's life, would be in my hands.... she thought to herself, reciting the words that her Shan'do had taught her all those years ago when she was young and had ran away from home. His words had rung true, for every Assassination she did, the target had to be destroyed, that is why she made sure who ever it was had to have a good reason before she stuck a blade in their backs.

Sighing again, she lowered her head, her eyes covered by the fringe of her hair "Ma'am, I'm sorry to say this....Faythalla was killed in action. She was crushed by a pile of rocks when we arrived here and were attacked by Stone worms...there was nothing we can do. She traveled with a Nerubian, named Clicker, he also died, if he meant anything to you as well" She looked up to the woman and offered her a warm smile "My Shan'do, Dareth Shadowstar, said that sometimes, we all have limits, we all have sad moments, but it does not mean that we should be burdened by them....I ask you don't take this news to will only cause more pain and sorrow in the end. Please understand this"

With those words, she stepped back and placed her hands behind her head once more and looked over to the Commander "So when does our stealth group head out, is there a special time for us or are we just gonna leave when everyone else does?"
Fenris looked over at Vimmi and shrugged as he stepped back and away from Coron to look down at the maps and charts that littered the table. He listened intently as the Commander detailed their mission and the objectives they were aiming for. Fenris nodded as Vimmi spoke about the troggs, "I have fought them before. They are a nuiscance, bladed weapons work if the weapon is heavy such as a two-handed sword or axe. Trying to stab them will be ineffective, slashing is our only attack that will work against them." Fenris' voice was analytical as he detailed the tactics behind taking down the troggs. He was more than happy with this arrangement and checked to make sure he had all his gear.

As he did he let his mind wander to the task ahead, it was a daunting one but Fenris was not concerned. The end goal and the objectives were not his to worry about, he would make sure that they completed the objectives leading up to it and do it with excellence. Once his inventory was complete he crossed his arms and stood off in the direction that they would have to travel to meet with the Earthen and deal with the Troggs. "If you need anti-venoms or poisons I have many!" Fenris said as an afterthought, remembering that the Commander had mentioned the Troggs using herbs and poisons.

'Now I just have to wait till they are all ready to move out...' Fenris thought dryly as he watched the size of the Patrol grow and grow. It was like a miniature army that required half the day to get ready to move out.
01/29/2012 12:43 AMPosted by Distopia
“Low I hope you were successful with your tasks.” She said eager to see if Low had made her some more arrows. Only eight arrows in her quiver made her worry. If there was an attack she would not be very effective in the fight.

Lowmaine unslings the quiver she was given by the Earthen Ring full of arrows that she had been busy making for the elven warrior. "Yeah, suffice to say I was busy last" She remarks with a chuckle, regarding her surroundings in Deepholm. "Anyway..." she hands the quiver to Lynara and starts pointing out different tips and markings on them and what they mean. "I made you Broadhead Arrows like ya wanted, but I figured since you've only got the option of piercin' yer targets ya needed an extra bit of power, so while all of 'em are gonna pierce targets more easily..."

She points at the uncolored ones. "Those're basic, normal broadheads; can easily rip through mail and thin plate, best my guess. Good fer soft targets."

She then points at the blue ones. "I call these "Rock Busters;" basically they're a little denser and can pierce through thick outer layers and still deliver enough force to puncture heavier armors, like thicker plate or possibly even rock," she gestures around the two of them once. "This is Deepholm, after all."

She then points at the red ones. "Explosive; each tip's got a tiny, dummy explosive charge in it that's probably powerful enough to go through a wall. Won't destroy anything too massive, but it's enough to puncture something really thick and cause some serious damage."

Her finger then points to the yellow ones. "Tracer rounds; should be fairly self-explanatory but I'll explain anyway. If'n you need to ever point out far off targets to us, ye can use these. Just remember though, tracers work both ways, ya get me?"

She fully hands Lynara the quiver with a bit of a smile. "Hopefully yer a li'l more at ease now that you're armed again."

As the kaldorei goes to talk to one of the druids, she waves over to Turle to get his attention, stating simply "I've got somethin' fer you too."

She removes the sword from its place on her opposite hip and holds it by its sheath straps, handing it ceremoniously to the gnome. "I made ya a weapon befittin' a gnome like yerself." She starts indicating its workings to him and grins, hoping he likes his weapon. "The teeth are made outta a crystal that's native to Deepholm; so I'm fairly sure it can chew through rocks like they're butter."
((Sorry for the sucky post, I don't have a whoooole lot to work with here :-/ ))

The armor-clad skeleton eventually lead Tessa to a small area of the temple near the entrance. Filling the space was a wide array of members from different races gathered around a table with maps laid out on the surface. Giving the orders was a female gnome. Then, this must be the right place after all. Hovering on the outside of the gatherine, Tessa couldn't clearly make out what was being said, but the group was obviously planning to move out soon. And to her not-quite-so-expert eye, Tessa noted that the female gnome looked...frazzled. There wasn't really a better way to put it. Someone who had been relying too much on energy potions rather than sleep. Perhaps that was a bad sign of things to come?

Resigning herself to her chosen course, and with another futile attempt to neaten her still-damp appearance, Tessa waited until the talking was finished, and then approached the gnome. "You're Spannershield, yes? You are a hard lot to find...I have come to offer my services if you'll take them. I managed to miss my chance when you first sent your call to arms out." Again she mentally kicked herself for a lame introduction. Especially when hinting that she had somehow tracked the group down. That likely wouldn't go down so well given they were all supposedly traitors to their factions.
Vimmi Spannershield had scooped up a lot of the maps and divvied them up between members of the Patrol. Those going on the reconnaissance task were granted a few of the more high quality maps, where as anyone willing to go with the Earthen Ring for diplomacy, were given a few key folders of information on the goings on of Deepholm. A few final maps were tucked into Vimmi's armour, and the rest were left on the table or scooped into a bag and left under the table.

“I want eyes open,” she began speaking to the crowd, “SI:7 is here with us, and they're likely still after us, so watch your corners and shadows, they could be anywhere.” The information bothered her, but her group easily overpowered the agents now, they had a few strong warriors and they were rested and relatively relaxed. The Agents would have to resort to underhand means of dealing with them if they wanted to make a difference.

As Perfection announced her enthusiasm at the task she was given, Vimmi decided it was perhaps necessary to remind her that, “This is just a scouting run, Perfection. I don't want you to alert them, just wander around and map out their base, we need to know what we're up against if we have to deal with them. And you may leave as soon as the others are ready, find Virella, Waraila and Varonus.”

As Perfection wandered off, Vimmi found herself assaulted by another two, another two -newcomers-, one was the druid she had mistaken as the others comrade, and one was a completely new woman who had the looks of a spellcaster. Vimmi regarded them both, “Anyone with the dedication to track us down this far is either a dedicated vanguard of good, or a dedicated assassin. Either one deserves a shot at their own goal,” her mouth twisted into a grin as she folded one last piece of parchment and set it down into her armour.

“I am Vimmi Spannershield and this is the Borean Patrol, if you've come this far you've come to fight, I hope you make the right decision in -who- you decide to fight.” With that she nodded with her head over to the main group. “You will both accompany me, we are waging war on the stone troggs that war against the Earthen, it is our belief that aiding the Earthen will improve relations and acquire their aid in finding other pillar fragments, to restore the temple.”

“If you wish to follow me, you will listen to every order I give you, you will follow every command to the letter and you will not attack, nor flee, nor die, without me first giving my word to allow it. If you understand, and still wish to follow me... we leave in ten minutes.” With that done, Vimmi wandered throughout her group, making sure everyone was stable and ready to leave. After a few minutes she was content that most were ready or about to be ready to leave.

“Spannershield,” the harsh but always friendly and warm tone of the wyvern Verra spoke, causing the woman to stop and face the creature. Verra was in reasonably good shape, the creature had actually -rested- and was in full strength for the day. That was, full strength minus her ability to fly, her wing was not yet completely healed of course. And that was precisely why the creature had interrupted her companions march, “I am informing, you, my wing is damaged, I cannot fly.”

Vimmi nodded, “That's fine, just take it easy Verra. I don't want you to destroy your wing and never be able to fly again. Stick with the group and do the best you can,” with that comment, the Gnome was already turning to move, and Verra just bowed her head in response until the Gnome was gone. The beast then wandered over to those who were already ready, next to the mighty warrior Fenris as he waited.

Vimmi found her way over to Sylvanora, if she could find the Elven Woman. “Once again,” she spoke, looking up at the respected Skylancer and speaking with a less demanding tone she reserved for those in her highest regard. “You know our plans, and as an independent organization I will not order you around, it is your choice of who to aid. Considering your value in the air, your aid might be ideal in fighting the troggs, as opposed to sneaking around on the ground.”

Virella, her seething negative energy -somewhat- withdrawn into her own mind, had sought out the small number of members for her group. She came across Perfection first, and spoke with little emotion as she regarded the woman. “We shall move out now, find the Druidess Waraila and the Battlemage Varonus,” what she spoke was nothing short of an order, however due to experience she considered herself a higher rank than Perfection, even though rank meant little.

As the Bone Witch searched around for either of the other two, she grasped a few maps and slipped them into some cracks on her armour, most were just cheap copies but if she was going to map out the area she needed some parchment to scribble on. Why Spannershield had sent her on a scouting mission as opposed to a direct conflict mission was beyond her, but the little sleep-deprived Gnome likely had her reasons.

“Attention!” Vimmi shouted, “We are leaving!”

“Scout team head out, Main Group, on me. We'll stop just before the warzone if you need to make last minute preparations, but we're running on short time now so, follow, now!” With that comment, Vimmi jumped off of the table she had been standing on and begun walking. She almost had enough warriors to force them to march, but not only did she see that as incredibly inefficient, most of her soldiers were not -soldiers-... they were heroes, and heroes worked best when given the most freedom with their methods.

… party split agogo.

((2/2: Eh. ))
The shock of hearing if her sister's death made Wulf catch her breath. "Fayth? Dead?" her voice crumbled as she tried to digest this informatiion. For a few moments she could not speak as she tried to swallow the huge lump in her throat. She nodded to Perfection and quietly slipped off to the side to say a prayer. She knew this day was always possible, they lived in a world where war was everywhere...casualties were to be expected.

Leaning on a wall on the steps she tried to gather her strength. Fayth had died doing her duty to saving the world...even with a group such as this...she was true and steady. The tears rolled down her face as she said a prayer. "Elune guide my sister Faythalla to your haven of the ancestors...give me strength to do as she did and serve the needs of the Kaldorei and the rest of Azeroth."

The orders were given and Wulf heard them, she wondered if this commander had even remembered the softspoken healer. She seemed cold and determined, and the discipline was there. If there was a chance to save the world pillar it would rest with such as these. 'Get a grip, time to grieve...there is work to be done..' she seemed to hear an echo of the words she spoke to herself.

Standing tall she changed to bird form and flew into the air to circle above them, ready to follow where they led...closing the grief into her heart to dwell on it later...when there was time.
Lynara’s eyes widened and a grin of anticipation came across her face as she took the arrows from Lowmaine and listened intently as the warrior explained the different arrows. She looked over their physical differences to be able to tell and smiled some more at the deadly arrows.

She looked over the normal broadsides, the “Rock busters”, the explosive arrows, and even tracer arrows. She took the quiver and placed a hand on Lowmaine’s shoulder. “Thank you Low. I will not forget this. When we go into battle, know that I will always have your back covered.” She said before placing her remaining arrows in the new quiver and strapped it to her back, replacing her old arrow quiver.

She turned to the druid woman who had just joined them and turned out to be the sister of Fayth, the late priestess. “It is sad, the death of a loved one. I know your pain and I am truly sorry for your loss, but she is with Elune. The goddess will ensure her afterlife is one of pure happiness.” Lynara said trying to comfort the woman. Having her be emotionally compromised on a mission could spell disaster.

She hoped what she said had helped and then proceeded to follow Commander Vimmi. From what she heard they were going to fight stone troggs.
Marazak - Stonehearth

((quick note for all you newer ppl in OOC- read it. Or else!))

It took most of the willpower he could muster at the moment, but Marazak's eye slowly fluttered open, staring at the expertly carved ceiling. Or was it carved? It seemed to have a almost natural perfection, as though the original stone had been observed and perfected, enhanced without dominating. As he looked around the room, he realized everything was carved, even the comfortable bed he rested upon. He could hardly believe there were such expert craftsmen in the world, but here was the very evidence. Only one people might have the skill to make something like this. Apparently the Earthen inhabit this plane as well... thought the Satyr.

As if on cue, a member of that peculiar race entered the doorway and walked over to the bed. "Hail and welcome, stranger. My name is Crag Rockcrusher, warrior of the Earthen. We pulled you from the carcass of the drake Matriarch. Slaying her was a great feat, a great feat indeed. You were pretty battered when we pulled you out, but we had some of our men look at you. Are you better?" said the dwarf like figure in a harsh voice like two stones grinding against one another. Marazak looked into the creature's faintly glowing blue eyes, and replied guardedly, "I am feeling somewhat better, yes," Can't be too careful. Everyone has an angle they want... keep them guessing about my strength until I can break out. "But I have been separated from my fellow travelers and need to rejoin them." Marazak shifted uncomfortably in his bed. He could feel magics being worked not far outside amidst the clash of rock on rock.

Crag faced the prone Satyr, and continued, "We can help you find them in time. But as for now, we can spare no one to help you find them," his voice dropping to a gravelly growl, he said, "The vile Troggs have attacked our home and even dared to kidnap the Stonefather. If you could help us push them back, we would be greatly indebted to you." The warrior fingered his stone club and glanced at the door. He was itching to be back in the fight against the enemy, it was plain to see. Not my fight, and maybe I could find them on my own. Marazak started to reply, saying, "The doings of your races hardly concern me-" when he was thrown into Crag, who remained standing with his great weight. Countless Troggs filled the crevice where the bed had once been, and seeing the opening they raised their weapons and charged forwards. "-though under the circumstances I feel we could work out a mutually beneficial relationship." finished Marazak smoothly.

Crag raised his weapon, preparing to charge, but before he could act Marazak thrust out two handa and muttered incantations, incinerating the Troggs with a superheated blast of white hot flame, melting even their tough hides like ice under warm water. He finished up by hurrying Crag out of the house and detonating the entire structure, burying the tunnel in a new layer of rock. More Troggs converged on them, though they fought the intruders out of Stonehearth and into the rocky plains beyond, with the rest of the massive invading army. The warrior and mage worked well enough as a team, Crag holding off the brunt of the attackers as Marazak annihilated them from far away. Knowing those goody two shoes they're probably heading here right now, anyways.
Still brooding over her nightmare of Taurajo, Waraila watched and waited in silence whilst the patrol began to congregate around Vimmi. Although she eyed Coren with no small amount of suspicion, after all the SI:7 agents had been the cause of their unfortunate decent into Deepholm, and on some level they were responsible for the deaths of some of the members of the Patrol. Not to mention the innocent lives of those they had rescued from Nespirah.

Still the druidess deferred to Vimmi's judgement on the matter, although she made a mental note to keep an eye on the kal'dorei male in case he had an ulterior motive. However movement near the temple entrance caught her attention, and dropping all pretext of stealth she watched the Skyguard head towards them, amongst them Barzulo who she had seen slumbering all throughout the 'day' before.

“Barzulo, it's good to see you awake!” she spoke quietly as she approached the group. “If only more people knew what you were all doing down here.. “ she perked up immediately, knowing that if it hadn't been for the shaman she would more than likely have died more than once in Northrend. He was a true friend, like the rest of the windlancers, and she was glad that he had come to no harm in doing his part of holding up Azeroth.

Waraila would have said more, however that was when Spannershield decided to address the entire patrol and she paused to listen to what the Commander had to say about the objective for the day. She was still concerned however, for the health of Vimmi, it still didn't look like she had taken any rest, and, it seemed she was still full of boundless, and borrowed energy.

That was not going to end well in the Tauren's opinion... still she would keep an eye on the gnome, or at least that was her plan until Vimmi announced that she was being placed in a team to scout out information in a twilight base.

The assignment made sense, after all Waraila had been a scout in the Horde army before her disgrace in Northrend and her 'resignation', but she still didn't like the idea. Not when she was concerned for Vimmi's health... but she knew there was at least two others, she knew who would pay careful attention, and with the windlancers potentially accompanying the Patrol.. she was sure the gnome would be safe. Well she hoped so anyway.

“Looks like I don't have time to catch up on things... “ Waraila sighed as she looked round for the members of her team. There was Perfection, talking to one of the other druids... about what she had no idea, but from where she was standing she couldn't hear a thing. Varonus she had no idea where the mage was, perhaps he was just hidden by all the other members milling around..

Then there was Virella, she almost missed the bone witch, as she hadn't expected to see her covered in armour of all things. The sight of her, with a blood elf in tow, made her stop and blink more than once. She didn't want to work with the Witch, even though she had been in the Patrol in Northrend, and she still harboured a deep distrust of her. Yet the spectacle of the forsaken in armour baffled her.... not only that she couldn't even imagine how she could move in that stuff without making a tremendous racket.

With a mental shrug she started to make her way towards the others once more, although she paused by Verra as she went past the wyvern. “Don't overexert your wing, my friend... I would not like to see you confined to the ground” she whispered softly “although I would like you to watch over Vimmi in case those potions she keeps taking make her ill” she added. Whilst she knew that Turle would be keeping watch over Spannershield, in combat more than one pair of eyes were needed and that was her major concern.

Approaching Perfection, she noticed that the druid she had been speaking to had already flown off, and was circling the patrol. “Well this ought to be interesting.. “ she commented wryly as she began to make her way towards the general area that had been indicated was the location of the Twilight's base. How far away it was she had no clue, but there was little chance of it being this close to the temple.
The flight around the patrol enabled Wulf to keep a close eye on them all. She could move as they did and scout ahead to lert them if they were headed to enemies. Keen eyes and swift flight kept her alert and moving along as she noticed more joining Spannershield.

This was a battlezone and Wulf would do her duty, in spite of the grief weighing down her heart. How many times had she and Fayth discussed the inevitability of this time. Fayth was older and in some ways wiser, though she had never taken a mate or had children. Immortality does nto count in battle situations.

Wulf felt safer in the air, the currents kept her aloft with little effort and she could see a long distance ahead. She would heal when she had to and would not fight when she had opportunity. Seasoned by years of battles in Ashenvale and later the plaguelands, she was no novice to battle. Orders would keep her busy until she had time to grieve.
Malak grinned as Vimmi took over in the direction of Stonehearth and Malak followed easily, falling into step behind the gnome and off to the side a few meters away. He was trying to provide protection from an attack as his eyes scanned the now familiar stoney geography of Deepholm. Malak let his mind wander around as they moved, he would have preferred a faster pace but he wouldn't push it. He let his mind wander to his purpose with the Patrol, fate had not put him on this path for no reason; he therefore assumed that there was some purpose he would have to fulfill. The Worgen warrior quickly thought through all the people he had met in the Patrol so far, all were skilled fighters and veterans of many campaigns but most had a deep hatred for warfare.

It was a conundrum that Malak could not understand, he knew he was an excellent warrior, he killed with ease and he enjoyed it. He had come to accept that his lot in life was to fight and kill until he came across an opponent who could beat him. It was part of the reason he chose to join the Patrol, because he might meet that opponent in their midst or among their enemies. Yet now he was questioning himself, others had said his consciousness was not destroyed but dormant. Years and months spent as a wild beast, as a blight upon all Gilneans, had turned him into a ferocious beast. Returning to the civilized world, even as a mercenary it would have taken time for it to return.

Malak quietly snorted and shook his head at that thought, he had no consciousness, no soul. He was a monster and a killer and that was all he ever was. An angel of death marked by the gods and by Fate to be condemned a warrior forever. What then was his purpose? Malak could not tell if it was merely to serve the Patrol's great purpose and in the process die or something greater. But Malak knew that if the Patrol's dream of creating a peaceful future for Azeroth were to be realized, he would have no place in it. 'Let us hope death finds me in good time then...' Malak thought dryly as he kept up with Vimmi and the rest of those sent to Stonehearth.
“Do you think it is wise to bring one of -them- along with us?” an accusing, yet carefully spoken male Draenic accent spoke. It was a voice of one who had learned over hundreds, possibly even thousands of years to consider each action carefully.

“Do ya think it's wise tah send a 'Goblin' hun?” a much shorter voice retorted, one that compensated for its higher pitch with an overbearing flood of 'gusto.'

Two figures stood atop the stairs to the temple, watching the Borean Patrol scatter about into their positions and begin to move out. Both contrasted each other in almost every way, as if some divine hand had deemed it comedic that such clashes of personality be matched. They were waiting for something, or maybe they were just curiously regarding the host of strange beings on their doorstep.

One was a large and aged Draenei Shaman, who wore little more than a simple robe and simple leather, his tendrils braided dutifully. His eyes were a brighter blue than his flesh, however both were as worn and faded as the old garb he wore. It was an old body, cloaked in age, yet still maintained and dignified by a boundless duty. The body of one who woke every morning with the intention to complete every step to the best of their ability despite physical drawbacks. This was Anuur, a respected and elderly Shaman.

The other was short, short even by Goblin standards. With fiery red eyes she was in almost all regards the polar opposite of Annur. She wore magnificent excessive mail armour, with huge chain links and enchanted flowing magma shoulders. A kilt flowed like water from her waist down and one hand was a large rock claw that stuck to her hand like a glove all the way up her shoulder. Her other hand was bare, and she now used it to demonstrate her attitude by resting it on her hip. This was Ruby as she was known, a... well a Goblin shaman.

“I do not know why they chose to send you,” Anuur spoke, “Yet I trust in their decision, perhaps there is something to your fire, perhaps the Earth Queen will find amusement in your attitude.”

“Perrrhaps, perhaps she'll respect-ah my ability to take action!” she said, raising her hand in the air as she spoke. “We're not gonna be the only one's goin' anyway hun, spread out yeah? I'll find Bralla and you search for Kreska.”

Anuur nodded, however as he begun walking he reminded Ruby that, “They do not have to accompany us if they wish not to. The instructions were to allow them to place their Patrol before their duties.” As he spoke he then walked off slowly and carefully, looking for an Orc.

Meanwhile Ruby muttered, “Dunno why -I- wasn't given that choice!” she argued in regards to Bralla's release into the numbers of the patrol. “Spirits knowin' I would rather kick some !@# than sit around talkin' to some big-$%^ stone bi'tch.” After talking to herself enough, Ruby finally waded her way through the crowd until she managed to find the short-sized Bralla.

“Bralla!” she announced, “You comin' with us to talk to the big cheese of Deepholm?”

Virella hoisted her crossbow up to shoulder height a few times, doing a few combat maneuvers to get used to the weight of the armour. Considering she was going on a stealth-focused mission, she had to invoke a little magic to render her drawbacks covered. In her plate armour, she'd normally make a clatter, but with just a small extension of her inherent necromantic energies, she created somewhat of a buffer between the gaps of her armour. The only visual representation was what looked like a dark black gas constantly seething from her armour.

In fact, although it wasn't visually apparent, the energies breathed in and out like air, and kept the plate armour from making a clatter with movement. Of course hitting her with an outward source like a weapon would still make quite a racket. Virella however would -as she hoped- not have to sacrifice her expensive well-being in the melee. She had pawns like Perfection and Waraila do deal with the danger of the melee for her.

She followed behind the group, Waraila had already begun to move as the others got into position. Any of those not yet with the group would no doubt catch up eventually. Virella just looked over at their direction and frowned. It was simply a scouting mission, but it was obvious Vimmi expected them to do what they could while there. If an opportunity presented itself they'd have to take it, especially if it involved one of the pillars.

For a moment the Bone Witch considered making conversation, but one glace at Waraila staunched that idea. Not only was there enough tension between them to physically slow them down, Perfection did not seem like the chatty type in this situation, assassins never were. And Varonus, well he wasn't even with them yet, but as mysterious as he was powerful, she assumed he would be with them shortly.

Meanwhile, Vimmi glanced over her shoulder at her patrol scattered about, following after her. By the time they were crossing through endless fields of rock and passing beside large cliffs of diamonds, they were tight-knit and relatively organized. Vimmi turned to face them as she figured they must be drawing close to their destination.

“I want those armoured in the melee, I don't know if you've fought troggs before, but they hit much harder than you'd think, I've had experience,” she spoke the last comment with an inner growl as dark memories offered to resurface. “We're protecting the Earthen here, so watch your targets, I don't know what the situation will be when we get there. But our priority is saving the Earthen from the troggs, improving relations to them. So I want you to show discipline and efficiency out there, and some tone of restraint... I don't want anything ridiculous or dangerous, we're proving that we're stable and strong... like the Earthen Ring.”

“Fenris, Lowmaine, The Einherjarr, Lia, I want you in the front. Protect Lynara, the druids, any of our spellcasters. Show formation and let the troggs break upon us like a tide.” She could hear the distant sounds of conflict, and as she rose to the top of a ridge and witnessed the scene before her, she realized that the sounds were a lot less distant than they had seemed.

The patrol could see the village of Stonehearth, a small bulwark against the swarm of stone troggs. A ring of defenses lined the small earthen town, yet from every direction swarmed the unnatural stone creatures seeking to destroy them. It was obvious even at first glance that the Earthen had strong defenses, but they could not hope to hold against such tideless odds. Vimmi quickly turned to face the rest of the patrol, her eyes burning with a passion she had not had in weeks. This was a -battle- and she was a -commander-, this was where she belonged.

“On my charge we move in,” she ordered, “We have a positioning advantage in that we can flank the troggs. I want us to go right in at them and butcher those monsters. We'll then move around the village in an arc. By the time we get half-way they'll have reorganized their defenses and hopefully have dealt with the other half of the troggs. Focus on speed and power, we're taking these monsters down with cold efficiency. Watch your friendly fire and stay military!”

There was a pause as Vimmi took a long breath, and then she drew her mace and held it high, “Chaaarge!” she shouted, before running down the hill towards the fray. The Borean Patrol (hopefully) followed, and broke upon the troggs with fury.

((2/2: Eewwww, terrible terrible post. But I don't know if I'll be able to post tomorrow, due to school going back I'm going to be awfully busy. This is FREE COMBAT kill troggs until your heart's content or w/e. Butcher zem! Destroy all in the name of the emperor, I have to go out... ))
“My thoughts exactly,” Sylvanora nodded, withdrawing from the conversation that the Windlancers where having among themselves long enough to talk to Vimmi, “This lot isn’t exactly… Subtle,” she looked over her shoulder almost as if for emphasis, revealing that Kethrilk and Iranda were now having a rather heated debate over the use of frost magic for food preservation while those who weren’t studying the Patrol looked on in obviously faked interest.

“I was thinking that Barzulo and Gretta would be appropriate if we’re planning to investigate Stonehearth. Barzulo isn’t on the roster for maintaining the World Pillar for a while again and Gretta could use some stress relief,” she shrugged and turned back to the gnome, her voice taking on a much more relaxed tone, “But either way, it’s good to work with you again. I will be keeping an eye on those greenhorns though, haven’t properly seen them in action yet so as far as I’m concerned they’re untested.”

She didn’t bother to indicate the newer Patrol members, certain that Meep would understand what she was saying, and turned to her group once the gnome moved on to give her own people their orders.

“Okay then. Iranda, Barthius and Vearakus, are you alright to stay back?” the light-hearted squabble between the arakkoa and Draenei came to an almost instant stop, and near the back of the group Sylvanora could already see the relief in Barthius’s eyes. ‘Yesterday’ had been particularily rough on him, so she didn’t blame him.

“Indead I am fine, ze Ring would like me to help with a portal to bring zome more supplies down anyway,” Iranda was first to speak, tilting her head to the side and raising a hand matter-of-factly in her usual exaggerated way. Vearakus merely nodded without a hint of disappointment, and Barthius announced his plans to spend most of the day on sentry duty. Gretta and Kethrilk’s reactions were quite the opposite. They remained silent, but the orc gave Sylvanora genuinely thankful – and eager for fighting – look, and Kethrilk seemed to retreat into his own little world, staring off into space. Sylvanora guessed that he was probably already imaging the best ways to kill troggs, despite the fact that he didn’t even know what a trogg was before they had come down here.

With that they split up, Sylvanora, Kethrilk and Gretta gathering up their mounts and Barzulo turning to join the main Patrol group due to not actually owning his own netherray. This motion was cut short when he spotted a familiar face heading toward him.

“Waraila, it is good to see you as well,” he allowed his lips to curve into a grin, but it quickly faded and was replaced with a grimace, his face going a deeper shade of blue in a blush, “Er, yeah… I overexerted myself during my most recent turn on the Pillar and had to recover,” he chose not to elaborate any further, seeing as the druid needed to join her team and head out sooner rather than later, but the direction of his thoughts had already been steered by what he said, “I just know that it’s only a matter of time before Sylvanora, Gretta or even one of the other shaman gives me a verbal lashing for that. Ah well, best to focus on the present, and the task at hand.

“Anyway, stay safe on your task, the Twilight’s Hammer aren’t exactly the most accommodating lot I’ve met across all the worlds and planes I’ve had the pleasure to visit,” he had originally planned to finish the conversation there and then, to let the druid return to her work, but another thought suddenly occurred to him. He scrambled to tack on another, rather out of character sentence before the druid went out of earshot, “Oh, and if any of them find your group, make sure to kill one for me!”

As the Patrol set off and got into formation, Barzulo took up a place in the rear of the group with the spellcasters. While he was more than capable of holding his own in an up-close fight – especially so in the realm of the element he was most attuned to – he had always been of the opinion that he was more useful in a supporting role, where he could get a better overview of the battlefield and construct more elaborate strategies for maiming and disabling the enemy. That had always been his style since the orcs had first started attacking the Draenei when the Horde had first arisen. Originally it had been a way of denying orcs of the ‘honourable’ deaths they pursued so much, but the way of fighting had stuck once he found that it could be much more efficient to just let someone die of their own accord rather than to finish them off yourself.

Gretta and Brent were flying low, probably the height of three tauren standing on each other’s shoulders at the most, and toward the front of the group with the warriors. Of all the Windlancers, she threw herself into the melee the most by far, because what honour was there in hovering just out of reach of the foe’s weapons while you gleefully dismembered them? She constantly swapped between fighting in the air and on the ground, barrelling through the enemy’s ranks before retreating to safety for just long enough to regain her bearings. She knew that she would have to be relying on her armour and the combined weight of herself and Brent more than ever in this fight though; the blades of her axes would only be blunted against the stony hides of the troggs.

Sylvanora and Kethrilk were both higher up, flying in a two-man echelon formation so that they could keep watch on both each other and the area around the Patrol. No matter how many times they had done this however, the size difference between Sekheim and Avielian still never failed to be amusing. Despite the huge differences in their combat styles, both of the arakkoa and the night elf did their best at range, with Sylvanora preferring altitude even more than horizontal distance against grounded forces. Kethrilk was largely indifferent to whether he was actually in the air or not though: as long as he got to make some stuff suffer in the name of Rukhmar, he was a happy birdman.


02/01/2012 07:02 PMPosted by Meep
“Fenris, Lowmaine, The Einherjarr, Lia, I want you in the front. Protect Lynara, the druids, any of our spellcasters. Show formation and let the troggs break upon us like a tide.”

Standard formation. Oh, was Lowmaine liking the sound of that. "Yeah, Commander. Gonna take more 'n a few retarded rock rodents to get this gal outta the way. Consider our front protected." she grins, her eyes roaming the slopes and plains of Deepholm as they are still en route to the Earthen's position at Stonehearth.

Her minds is positively giddy at the possibility of combat like this; war, real war! Finally! she hadn't been in a real, proper battle with tactics and clearly defined sides since she had joined up with the Patrol what felt like months ago. She was itching for a good and proper fight after all this time. After all the time they had spent running; from Ratchet, to the ocean, to Deepholm, and now Stonehearth. Earthen? She couldn't give a toss about the Earthen right now; all she wanted was to be in the middle of the thickest bloodbath she could ever hope to see in the near future.

Her fingers were trembling in complete anticipating for the fighting to come, and soon before she knew it she was there, with the rest of the Patrol, waiting for the signal that would eventually come:

There was a pause as Vimmi took a long breath, and then she drew her mace and held it high, “Chaaarge!” she shouted, before running down the hill towards the fray. The Borean Patrol (hopefully) followed, and broke upon the troggs with fury.

Lowmaine gives a rebel yell, draws her sword and shield, and charges the nearest trogg she can find.

Damn, did she love her job.


The shamaness was not pleased. One of her many priceless artifacts that she had collected over the course of her travels with the Earthen Ring was missing! How did one misplace something so large as a Tol'vir relic, anyway...?

She was just about to overturn her bags for the umpteenth time before a loud, slightly high-pitched voice disrupted her from her reprieve:

02/01/2012 07:01 PMPosted by Meep
“Bralla!” she announced, “You comin' with us to talk to the big cheese of Deepholm?”

The dwarven shaman winces a little bit as the tone of the Goblin's voice pierces right through the migraine she's developing, but she hefts herself to her feet and dusts herself off, securing her pack to her back and pushing her ruby-quartz glasses up to the bridge of her nose. "'Big Cheese' eh, Rubeh? Ye be meanin'' Earth Queen herssef, ri'?"

She nods her head and looks around, noticing the definite lack of the Borean Patrol present. "Yeh, sure, why no'...ain' like 'm doin' anythin' else ri' now. Let's head oot, shall weh?"

Her eyes roam around once looking for Kreska, whom she assumes is coming along, wondering where the orcish shamaness might be...


((Short awful posts are short and awful. Time to get some well-deserved rest X_x;;))
Ein had trudged along, bored, to the village: the only thing keeping him going was the promise of some slaughter and mayhem at the end of the march. At long last, they arrived at the besieged Earthen village. To Ein's experienced eye, the Earthen were in rather dire straights: surrounded, besieged, and outnumbered. There was quite a bit of debris scattered about that indicated destroyed siege weapons: the Earthen's or the Troggs, he really couldn't say. The Death Knight turned to the worgen warrior beside him and drew his runeblade.

"I recommend that we charge the enemy line in unison, overwhelming them with our greater weight and ferocity. After that, we should maintain the defensive, preferably on one of those small outcroppings to give us the high ground." The Einherjar pointed out a couple of rocky hillocks with a clawed gauntlet. Holding his sword in his left hand, he used his right to take out the horn that all Death Knights carried. The human raised the Horn of Winter to his lips and let out a long blast. The horn sounded with a deep, rumbling noise that would bring fear to the enemy and fill all of his allies with an unnatural strength. Ein carefully slung the horn back on his belt, leveled his sword, and charged into the enemy line, an unstoppable colossus of Saronite. Every sword hit smashed multiple troggs into rubble, and the tireless warrior continuted annihilating his foes. For a moment, he managed to make a small clearing, and then the tide of the troggs pressed in on him. Remembering his plan, Ein started making his way over to a small hill. Any troggs that came near were instantly pulverized by the heavy runeblade.

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