Shadowfrost Inn ((Open RP))

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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((Sorry about being out, I was sick and stuff lol but I loved yals fight XD))

"BONEREAPER!!! NNOOO!!!" Tyylur shrieked painfully and fell to her knees grasping where he was pulled under. "This chick is really ticking me off. I can and will destroy you if you don't step down. Lineron, if you try to stop me you will go down as well. I may be starting to feel some compassion for you, but it can be quickly terminated. Death Knight, I like you. You are extremely powerful. Not physically like most death knights, but mentally. You possess a gift that I could only dream of having. To be able to see thoughts as clearly as peoples faces is an amazing talent. How would you like to join us?"
The door burst open once again and shut nearly as quickly. Distopia stumbled to a table near the door, she dropped her severed forearm directly in front of her. She herself was covered frozen blood and ichor. "No don't get up I have it handled. All the scourge I could find in that blizzard are dead." She said with a bit of a grin as the warm air began to melt the putrid ice on her body and armor. She took out a first aid kit from her bag and took out a needle. "Ok now to thread the needle..." She started, then she remembered her other arm was lying on the table before her. "Damn scourge." she grunted.
"are you suire you don't need a hand sister?" the undead said, her hands glowing with ice. "I can freeze that on long enough for you to fix your other arm, so you can -permanatly- fix the one i froze." she continued, looking more at the preist. "You couldn't lay a hand on me, i dont feel the burn of the so called "light" as much as your boyfreind there, because i rely on frost powers, not unholy." she ssaid. "and frankly, after this i never want to see you again."
"I should be fine. This works better if the flesh isn't frozen anyway." She said. After taking off her gauntlet and a few grueling moments she finally stabbed the needle partly in her severed arm and then threaded it that way. She then faced the problem of holding her arm while sewing it back in place long enough for the necrotic energies keeping her bound to her body to repair the damage. She sighed as she pressed her stump of an arm against the severed part and lined it up just right. There was clotted blood oozing from her limb which was making quite the mess on the table.

She then began to sew the limb back on. "There was a death knight outside. A ways away, but nearby either way. We dueled, and I lost... for the most part. Lets just say he went back to the scourge in a lot worse shape than I." She said as she continued to sew.
Catheden looked and glared at the Forsaken, growling quietly. He then stood up, walked over to where she resided in the room, pushing her in the shoulder. "Listen you worthless piece of flesh! If you so as much lay a finger on one of those Sin'dorei, you will be dealing with me! I have never met a knight as completely blinded and foolish enough to go against another knight, even if he were the one to cause it!" His death knight voice would be heard while he spoke to her.

"If he caused it, be mature like most knights and ignore don't threaten to harm another knight..." He growled, his voice was deep and intimidating, possibly even for other knights. Frost and ice were hanging from his armor, letting her know that he also, mastered in the frost arts. The man towered over the woman, as he stood tall at 7'9. He then began to make his way back to his seat, where his drink was. He growled under his breath.
((The sheer amounts of near cat fights are disturbing.....:P))
"By the bloody nether...." He says as he facepalms himself then grabs Tyylur be her shoulders. "One, Tyylur I am fine and Bonereaper is fine. And join what?" He says trying to calm her down.
"Finally." She proclaimed as she had finished sewing her arm back into place. "Now I need to let it set perfectly still." She said as she laid her head down on the table. She did not need rest, but it helped her remain still so that her arm would mend propperly and she would not be forced to remove and reattach it. Watching the display from the other death knights Distopia sighed. "You all are too blame, focusing your anger on each other instead of the Scourge. They are still out there, more scourge than any one of us could kill alone. Only by standing together does the knights of the Ebon blade have a chance to hope for victory. Better to die a true death, than become a slave to the Lich King once more. The only thing I have left from the Scourge is my hate, it is the only thing I feel and it burns within my like the Sun."
The chilling air howled angrily around the door as a heavily cloaked figure crossed the threshold into the inn. Ice and snow clung to his cloak like ticks to a mangy beast. With the door closed behind him, he surveyed the inn through the mask meant to shield him from the terrible Northrend blizzards.

The figure eyed the death knights and felt the contempt drip from his hidden maw. Arthas had created them at no fault to themselves, and perhaps that was the root of his distaste, Arthas. Despite his constant urge to rid Azeroth of such vile beings, the command of the Banshee Queen kept his hatred in check.

Shak unraveled his heavy cloths and tossed them over the back of a chair. Being Undead wasn't without its disadvantages. The cold was excruciating at times, and froze his rotting bones with pain unlike any other he experienced before. The warlock would much rather take a death knight's blade to his deformed body than endure the endless winter surrounding them, but he was warming now.

The master of demons stretched his boney fingers out to the fire and flex them, feeling the heat penetrate his swollen knuckles and casting the numbness from the flesh that remained on his forsaken frame. It was good to be here, in the heat and out of the cold. Shak figured he'd have a number of days to spend here before the Dark Lady would call to him to service.

"Hmpf," his gnarled lips spat as he thought of his role in Sylvanas' plan. It isn't every day that the Banshee Queen forgives a man, especially an undead man, for trying to murder her. Though he still wasn't sold on the sanity of his leader, he and his band of rogue Forsaken had pledged their allegiance to Sylvanas. Allegiance, for the time being.

Sylvanas made it difficult for them to run their covert ops for the Apothecary Society. Needing to keep the Forsaken in a favorable light with the rest of the Horde meant she scrutinized their every move. If she knew exactly what Putress had been working on, she’d have the Grand Apothecary’s head, and probably his and his men’s too.

Perhaps Sylvanas needed to be removed from power, but that wasn’t his decision, yet. For now, he was just content to be warm, despite the foul company at hand. As usual, if push came to shove, he’d play nice with these death knights, after all, they could prove to be the key that turns the war against the Scourge much to his dismay.
The undead looked at the night elf, the air around her was chilled. "I didnt have any quarrel with the blood elf.... until he got in the way of that runt over there." she said as she pointed at the preist. "She almost killed him, yet now he still is betraying one of ours by telling her our secrets! get mad at him not me." she voiced loudly.
The warlock cracked his neck subtly and eyed the death knight and sneered. He shook his head quietly as he reflected upon himself again. It seemed to him that eventually the death knights would destroy themselves and make Azeroth a better place for him. Though he hoped against hope the the Alliance would be lost in their wake as well.

The warlock could wish but knew deep down that would be one wish left unfulfilled. Definitely he looked forward to the day the Forsaken would be free of the Alliance, and the rest of the Horde for that matter. Perhaps luck would lend his Queen some new toys that could just make that happen.
Rendoron Blackrage walked the icy plains of Dragonblight when he saw a light. "What in the name of Gul'dan is that?" he asked himself. His black hood covered his face as he walked into the light to notice it was an inn.

An inn? Out here?

He started to shiver. "I guess it's better than staying in the cold." Rendoron opened the door and walked in pulling off his hood revealing his aged face and graying hair with a chopped beard. He soon was shocked at the sight he saw, two death knights looking as if they were to kill each other and a it seemed another warlock had entered just before him, a forsaken.

More undead in here than Northrend itself. he thought as he squeezed his way to the bar. "The toughest bread you have with a mug of noir!" he ordered placing gold coins on the bar. He took a seat on the barstool and sat and watched the other inn goers.
Shak pulled his hollow eyes from the fire and grimaced at the sudden waif of chill that crept in past another patron. He felt the power of the nether pin through his undead body. He regarded the orc with nothing more than a passing glance but it warmed him briefly that another warlock was there.

Sure, every race had its bias toward another, but the one thing he had learned quickly those decades ago when he turned to the fel was that not even racial prejudice broke the bond between the brothers and sisters of the shadow. Indeed it warmed him to see a fellow demon master brave the frigid wasteland of Dragonsblight.

Shak thought for a moment then ripped his slave through the twisting nether at his powerful command. The seductive succubus knelt before him in submission then rose to stand beside him as his object of whatever desire he wished fulfilled.

"Alcohol," his gargled voice commanded lowly. The temptress bowed deeply and swayed to the bar to fetch his order.

The demoness's tail brushed against the orc's hip in pardon and she gave him an apologetic, albeit sultry smile. The bartender's eyes grew hard at the sight of the demon and Shak wondered if he would get served or not. It didn't matter. Whether the keep honored his order or subdued temptress was forced to serve it herself, Shak was content in the thought of alcohol coming his way.
"Hmph, there are no secrets that death knights can hide, people find out either way. It is still idiotic to fight inside a local tavern with another knight, I suggest no one decides to quarrel with one another because if one person fights another, it will be a chain reaction in here. And we all deep down don't want that to happen."

He cracked his neck loudly, looking over all the patrons of the bar. "Yep, be a shame for everyone here to die, one after different ways too." He shook his head and sighed. He yawned for a moment, looking over at all the knights in the tavern. "You'd think since Arthas was slain, that a lot of the knights would unite in peace...but sadly, that's not the case.
"Hmph, there are no secrets that death knights can hide, people find out either way. It is still idiotic to fight inside a local tavern with another knight, I suggest no one decides to quarrel with one another because if one person fights another, it will be a chain reaction in here. And we all deep down don't want that to happen."

He cracked his neck loudly, looking over all the patrons of the bar. "Yep, be a shame for everyone here to die, one after different ways too." He shook his head and sighed. He yawned for a moment, looking over at all the knights in the tavern. "You'd think since Arthas was slain, that a lot of the knights would unite in peace...but sadly, that's not the case.

07/07/2012 03:33 AMPosted by Aakesh
This is set before the fall of the Lich King, or even Naxxaramas.

((This tavern is set before Arthas' death.))
"if only you'd get your head out of the cave for a minute you'd see, that he is going to tell her, very detailed ways... the best ways at that to kil a Death knight, even the weakness of Archerus itself, and if you think for a moment that im going to let that cowerdous traitor tell that wretched blood elf wench all of our weaknesses, than i might as well send my frosty sword up your gut too... and there are plenty of secrets that a death knight can hide... Like the weakness of her own armor... to a preist... a preist that just wants to get rid of us once and for all, and if you're going to try and stop me, i'll kill you too." the undead said, her voice getting louder.

than she looked at the undead warlock. "you know, you didn't have to use that to get you a drink, yyou could've just asked... anything for another forsaken." she said with a grin on her face. She knew this man had a secret, just not what it was.. he seemed different, less attached to other forsaken, and more attached to other warlocks, and demons.
Rendoron grabbed his noir and suddenly stopped when something swiped his hip. He suddenly felt a familier sense.


He turned toward the succubus and found it smiling in sympathy. "I'm sorry miss, didn't mean to get in the way." he said coldly. He turned and found himself in a stare at the other warlock.

Must be his pet...heh, this man has it right

While staring at the other warlock Rendoron summon his own demon from the void. A felhunter emerged growling angrily. Rendoron croutched down and stroked the back of the felhunter. He got up and sat at the fellow warlock's table straight across from him. His felhunter laying down right next to his chair. With a smug smirk he said "Rendoron Blackrage, one of the last remaining of the Stormreaver clan, you are?"
He grinned as flatly and lifelessly as he could to the death knight. His hollow eyes sparked for a moment, hinting at the resolve in his unbeating heart, or was it amusement. He welcomed his demoness at the fire with a remorseless peck on the cheek before throttling her back through the nether until a whim convinced him to summon her again.

"Answer me this, death knight," he finally replied, absently at best. "What good are spoils if they are vaulted behind stone?"

He let the question hang loosely in the air before commandeering a seat near the hearth. Shak turned his attention away from the poor Forsaken, as difficult as it was, and watched the flames lick at the brick inside the place, fleeting a thought to his amusement.

This place will do.
((Ah I didn't see that fault then..))

"Let it be so then, I'm surprised any of us have accepted what we have become, I use to be a priest of the moon, but now I'm a killing machine that would destroy the moon if I could..the world would probably be better off anyways." He smirked, a grin could be seen in the opening of the helmet.

"He can tell her whatever he wants, for he will be the first to fall when the priests and paladins find all of our weaknesses. I honestly couldn't care less, I have no emotion at all, so if I die, I die. But don't think I won't kill as many holy cowards that I can." He looked over at the blood elf priestess, then to the blood elf knight speaking with her. He shook his head, feeling as if death knights are divided enough as it is, they are just growing even more apart.
"The hunt, naturally. Aren't you going to help me confront the guy who killed Varah?" Tyylur said this like it was all to simple. She spoke as if this had been the plan all along. This was no angle to play people at. She truely beleived that Lineron was going to help her.
"By the bloody nether I am going to help her kill the bloody git not tell her all of our bloody secrets so she can kill us all! The day that I betray the Ebon Blade is the day that I stop punting Gnomes off cliffs because I can!" He yelled after slamming his hand onto the table. "I grow tired of this useless arguing. Tyylur if you need me I will be in the room I rented out packing my things. Bonereaper come." "Yes....master....." Bonereaper says to his master then glares at the Death Knight who threatened his master then walks off towards his master but his Dark Phoenix flys off his shoulder and places it self in front of Tyylur.

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