The Final Patrol ((Sign Ups/OOC))

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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Battlefield Sunset

If the sky was a pale blue ocean stretching from horizon to horizon across the Twilight Highlands, then there was blood trickling through the water. It was not blue, but red. The soft, inspiring glow of bright cerulean sky had been murdered by the burnt orange rays of sunset and streaked with hot slashes of crimson. It was a sky that told tales of violence and death, of carnage and hopelessness, and as Vimmi Spannershield turned her head skyward she felt the full weight of her actions. She lay broken and bleeding in a field of death, a field she had sown herself with mistakes and false certainty, and a field that now bore a twisted array of corpses, scrap metal and angry flame. As vital fluids bled through her teeth and dripped onto the grass before her, she heard whispers of the past chastising her.

“You need to slow down Spannershield, Vimmi, you cannot keep going like this...”

Vimmi turned and coughed a star of blood before her, the bloody liquid of life oozing down the thin strands of grass where she lay. The Gnomish Commander was not yet a corpse, and so she forced her hands to the ground and felt her muscles rebel in agony. Yet the strengthened steel of her prosthesis did not succumb to pain like the flesh did, and she felt her weary bones shifting slightly against the weight of the world. 'Stand,' her heart whispered to her, but she could only manage the effort to drag her broken body forward, up through the wreckage, to the top of the hill she lay on.

“You can't mess with things like this, it's not your decision...”

All around her, blistering heat radiated off of the twisted metal and burnt wood of the zeppelin wreckage, and it still bubbled with intensity and precipitance. Vimmi's vision was blurred and hazy through blood, but she did not have to -look- to see the damage. She could hear the flickering flame dance across the rubble of the airship as carefree and confident as she had been. Vimmi could feel her brothers and sisters too, lying in pools of their own blood and body, staring up at the sky for one last time. No, the woman did not have to look to see, she could feel the death she had wrought, the end she had made for them all.

“You can't possible be entertaining this idea Spannershield, have you lost your mind?”

Vimmi dragged herself to her feet as she continued to climb the hill, blood trickled from a laceration above her eye and drained through her cracked and damaged armour. Her fallow-brown hair was damp with sweat and she did not bear her helmet, and even stranger the warrior did not bear her shield. As the ringing in her ears slowly subsided, her stumble straightened and she could hear the sounds of combat from over the hill.

“... I can't watch you do this, I can't be a part of this horror anymore...”

A broken and battered Vimmi Spannershield crested the blood-soaked hill and stood atop the carnage of her actions, her figure insignificant and small against the rubble of the wreckage, or the bloody ocean of the sky. Behind her, lay the corpses of those who had trusted her, those who had followed her, those who sought justice and freedom and resolution. Vimmi had failed them. Afore her, raged the fiery inferno of war, a fire that she had set out to douse and only succeeded in fueling.

“Spannershield!” roared a voice, husky and weary and definitely not merely a memory.

Vimmi's eyes glazed with tears as she looked across the burning hills of the Twilight Highlands, as she witnessed Horde Zeppelins fall from the sky and explode on the ground, as she witnessed soldiers scatter and die, and as she witnessed at every turn only misdirected hate and violence. With a resounding thunder, Vimmi watched the keep of Highbank crumble inwards from Horde Airship fire. It was not the only victim however, black smoke rose from Dragonmaw Port and the distant rumble of metal and explosions marked half of The Krazzworks sliding into the ocean. The Twilight Highlands was falling apart in conflict, and she had sparked it all.

“Spannershield!” the voice called again, full of rage and hurt. It came from a survivor, a blue and white steel sergeant drenched in blood, walking through the ghosts of his deceased squad. “This blood, is on your hands!”

“I did what had to be done...” she whispered to herself, her voice unheard beneath the distant screams and shouts of war.

“This toll, is on -your- head!”

“I can make this right... I can fix this...”

In that moment, as just a wounded Gnome atop a hill of suffering and war, amidst an ocean of violence and hatred, Vimmi knew this was a debt she had to pay with her own blood. It was her debt to pay, her life which should be next in line, it was time to pay her dues.

A leather-bound dossier sits on a polished oaken desk in the officers quarters of Highbank Keep, the name 'Spannershield' scratched across the front in a sharp but elegant scrawl. Inside, along with pictures, a roster of members and past deeds, is an up-to-date log of their whereabouts until just before the Keep itself was destroyed.

Scouts report the Borean Patrol has indeed arrived. A small holdout has been set up in hills to the north-west, the blank-grey flag flies high, they have not yet attempted to make contact.

... have requested supplies, they have been denied, we do not have weapons or rations to spare, we have our own men to support...

… made a successful move on three of the closest enemy camps, their strength and vigilance is not to be doubted. They have an exceptional amount of drive and endurance for such a small unsupported group.

… attempted to make contact again, once more requesting supplies and this time heavy artillery support too. They are of course, denied, our siege weapons are strategically placed, they cannot be moved lest the Horde move on us...

… have sent out scouts to confirm the unspeakable rumours. If they are true, may the Light have mercy on their souls...

… important tactical information stolen by a spy, not the Twilight Cult either. This spy worked for the Borean Patrol, unsure of what Spannershield wants with our tactical information but they must answer for their crimes...

… rumours confirmed true. The Bone Witch is a threat to the Alliance, if Spannershield harbors her evil then the whole Borean Patrol must be brought to justice...

… has commandeered and repositioned our tank line, this can only be Spannershield. She has no idea what she has done...

… must be brought to justice...


It's good to see you again World's End Tavern, I've been away for a while but I plan to finish my story (if you can call it that), and this is its finale. This is open to all who wish to sign up, inclusive of those who were not in the original Twilight Patrols. It will be a relatively short, heavily action-based thread that will take us through some epic explosions and fighting and end as Cataclysm did, with the Deathwing Confrontation.

First and foremost, I mess with a lot of the story here, I blow up things that aren't supposed to blow up, and chronological ordering is all sorts of retarded, I don't remember what happens in what order but it's not too critical to the story. Essentially, the two primary events (Grim Batol, Deathwing) both happen really close together in my thread, and as far as my knowledge stretches I'm fairly sure they're supposed to have much more of a time-gap in the actual lore. I'm pleading for a little suspension of disbelief type deal here, you ignore the story inconsistencies and I'll give you a fun, epic story okay? <3

I'm playing with a lot of allusion here, as you can tell by my opening post, I never explicitly mention what has happened before this moment. This might seem daunting to you, that we're jumping into a story -seemingly- after the climax, but please, bear with me. What has happened can be revealed throughout the thread, throughout roleplay, etc. It's mystery, maybe it works, maybe it doesn't, but it felt right to do.

For those new to my threads, The Borean Patrol is an independent organisation which gathers heroes from the Horde and the Alliance and ignores the petty hatreds and conflicts between them, and focuses on the evils (such as Deathwing), they promote peace and working together. They recently prevented the destruction of Azeroth by securing the World Pillar in Deepholm, everything else is summarized in the above dossier.

In joining this thread, you have the choice to start amongst the rubble of the zeppelin crash, (this implies that you are a member of the Borean Patrol, you will be one of the survivors, there may end up to be many. But if you are, please try to be at least a little wounded, it adds to the effect of the scene). Or, you may join as part of the Horde or Alliance. You wont be fighting in the war, not quite, you will be part of the team working towards Grim Batol, the Borean Patrol will join you, so you wont have to wait long. (I will also give you RP to do while you wait, don't worry).

So, essentially, welcome to an action-packed adventure. Yes, I know Mists is out, and this might be boring. But I'm hoping I can find a few people willing to finish my story with me, before we delve right into Mists of Pandaria.

Sign Up Template

Name: Along with any callsigns or nicknames.
Race: Anything within lore is considered, anything within reason accepted.
Gender: Figure it out.
Class/es: Anything within lore is considered, anything within reason accepted.
Affiliation: Horde, Alliance, Pure Neutral, Cenarion Circle, Borean Patrol, etc..

Appearance: Pure physical appearance, armour not included. Think of your character with nothing but basic clothes on.

Equipment: Any armour, weapons, accessories, anything you plan to pull out of thin air at any point.

Skills: Skills, Specializations, Abilities. E.g. Good with a sword, keen eye, jumps real high, spider sense.

History: Optional, will definitely help though.

Reason: Why are you here? If you have been in the Borean Patrol from the beginning, that is reason enough. If you are new, but wish to be a member, state when you joined. Did you seek out the Borean Patrol to join as soon as they arrived in the Twilight Highlands? If not, are you part of the Horde/Alliance army fighting near Grim Batol? Are you warring somewhere else in the Twilight Highlands and plan to seek out the Patrol. Essentially... HOW, do you plan to fit into my thread?

Current Roster: [P] = Will be included in flashbacks
[P]Meep: Vimmi "Meep" Spannershield (<Female Gnome Commander/Warrior>)
[P]Meep: Virella "The Black Rose" (<Female Skeletal/Forsaken Necromancer>)
Jesterdeed: Adam Oris (<Transgender Human Warrior>)
[P]Lynara: Lynara Leafblade (<Female Night Elf Sentinel>)
Turle: Kortanus Nemesir (<Male Forsaken Warlock>)
[P]Lia/Coron: Perfection 'Angi' Lionsheart (<Female Human Assassin>)
[P]Lia/Coron: Lia Sunblade (<Female Blood Elf Warrior/Runecaster>)
[P]Lia/Coron: Coron Moonblade (<Male Night Elf Druid of the Talon>)
[P]Marasalle: Marasalle Sturmblade (<Female Arcane/Frost Mage>)
Ithalin: Ithalin Frosthand (<Male Human Death Knight>)
[P]Dristis: Adrian Octavian (<Male Human Marksman>)
Ihealedyou: Coris Amberflame (<Male Worgen Priest>)
[P]Varonus: Varonus Lor'dinan (<Male Blood Elf Battle Mage>)
Jaggo: Alistair Presoor (<Male Human Death Knight>)
Jaggo: Jaggo Presoor (<Male Worgen Mage>)
Jeramayan: Valdemir "Firebrand" Bolden (<Male Gilnean Mage>)
[P]Istella: Kreska Redworg (<Female Orc Shaman>)
Ashokk: Ashok "The Black Rider" Longshadow (<Male Human Warrior>)
[P]Chowmaine: Ex-Sergeant Lowmaine "Low" McCormack (<Female Forsaken Warrior>)
[ConditionalP]Einherrjar: The Einherjar (<Male Human Death Knight>)
Grishmak: Grishmak Hollowtree (<Male Worgen Druid>)
Grishmak: Sairdna Runefire (<Female Blood Elf Mage>)

Sammuroth: Sammuroth Stormfury (<Male Night Elf Druid/Cat>)
[P]Seyl: Cenerae Arienne Dawnrunner (<Female Forsaken High Elf Dark Ranger>)
Rukurgan: Rukurgan (<Male Orc Hunter/Scout>)
[P]Meep: Agent Keys (<Female Human SI:7 Agent>)
Gaream: Gaream (<Male Forsaken Rogue)

Name: Lynara Leafblade

Race: Night Elf

Gender: Female

Class/es: Sentinel/Moon priestess

Affiliation: Borean Patrol

Appearance: Lynara stands 6'9" tall with long light blue hair. Her skin is light pink with a hue of blue mixed in. She has a scar over her left eye, one she received in Deepholm, rendering her left eye blind.

Equipment: Lynara has her elementium clad armor that goes in stark contrast with her radiant moon bow. Her bow has a feint glow of moonlight at night or in darkness. She carries a foot long curved short sword on her hip in case of close combat needs.

Skills: Exceptional skill with a bow and still capable in melee combat.

History: Bah see my old sign up for Twilight patrols I don't feel like typing it again :P

Reason: Part of the Patrol
Name: Gaream (Does not remember last name)

Race: Undead

Gender: Male

Class/es: Rogue

Affiliation: Forsaken

Appearance: Bone legs and arms, face partly rotted away and covered

Equipment: Duel daggers, various poisons, basic medpack (in case he needs to reattach something)

Skills: Assassination, recon, infiltration

History: A former human, Gaream was shunned by society due to a hideous birth defect. He
was eventually arrested for a crime he did not commit and executed. After getting over the initial shock of being raised from the dead, Gaream dedicated himself to the forsaken, who did not judge him based on appearance, and now works as a rogue, ready to kill any who stand in their path

Reason: Part of the horde army near Grim Batol
Name: Perfection 'Angi' Lionsheart
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Class/es: Sub Rogue
Affiliation: Mostly Alliance, but is now converted to Neutral due to the Patrol

Appearance:Perfection stands at 5'7 with a athletic build and long, Raven black hair which is usually tied into a pony tail. Her skin would have no scars save for the scare that looks like a -X- on her right cheek that her master gave her to indicate she and him were practically like family. She has sea blue eyes which are usually filled with either excitement, focus or boredom depending on the situation that she is is.

Equipment: She has a new set of armor! She wears a full Dark Phoenix rogue set, a gift from her Shan'do, her other armor got ruined to nothing but a heap scrap leather.. It would appear she would have no weapons, but being a Assassin, she has many hidden gadgets hidden in her sleeves, she also has knifes with explosives tied to the end of the hilts, they are powerful enough to blast open steal doors, sometimes people ((Not saying that they can blow up entire thick stone walls or anything)). On each of her wrists, embedded into her flesh, are two bracelets, both of which have red gems embedded into them, these both turn into fire like claws ((These are the Talon and Claw of the Phoenix)).

Skills: Perfection was trained to be a Assassin by a Night elf named Dareth Shadowstar, a rogue who was hired to train Perfection before she ran away, when she did, he followed and continued her training. She is pretty good at stalking people, mostly at night or when it's raining. She loves close combat when it comes to fighting, which mostly explains her claws, think of it as martial arts. She is also quite a prankster, which isn't really a skill, but it can be helpful when it comes to making a get away.

History: Perfection was born to a wealthy family, when she was born, her -all-to-proud-father- named her Perfection, saying that she was the perfect child. Her family was mostly made up of Priests, Paladins and Mages, all of which she failed at training, but before her father could pick somthing else for her, her mother beat him to it and got Dareth to train her at being a rogue, much to her fathers horror. Perfection ran away 2 years into the training to keep her sanity after listening to her father ramble on about pathetic crap, Dareth followed her and they continued to train. After a few years of training, she was finally able to take on solo missions by herself with out getting into to much trouble, at least, that is what Dareth hopes anyway.

Reason: Part of the Patrol.

Name: Lia Sunblade

Race: Sin'dorei

Gender: Female

Class/es: Warrior/ Sort of Runecaster

Affiliation: Pure Neutral

Appearance: She stands at a adverage 5'7 with long black flowing hair that reaches half way down her back if she is not wearing her helmet. She has tanned skin which is mostly flawless beside the four scratch marks on her right cheek from fighting a Druid. Her eyes are the colour of jade and she stands with a straight and proud posture.

Equipment: She wears completely black plate armor that gives her compleat coverage from head to toe, her visor giving her a sinister look, yes, it's all new gear she made herself. A lot of it is made to fit, being thick enough to absorb a decent amount of blows, elegant designs would be etched into the armor. She also wears chain mail under the armor for when she is not wearing her plate, which is much lighter and gives her more mobility, but would give her the same amount of protection. For her weapons, she carries a long scythe, the length of the scathe in general is as long as her, with the blade as long as her arm, the blade is mostly made out of elementium, it is also blue ((looks like Witch Hunter's Harvester)). Runes which would enhance her strength by a good amount, these also allow her to do abilities such as Thunder Clamp, leap far distances, and Shockwave like abilities. These runes would be located on her gloves and boots, she keeps other runes else were, four on her scythe.

((Picture Reference for those who might struggle:
That, minus the High Heels, and her legs are covered in plate, nothing exposed, also two runes on the chest piece, one above the other near her collar bone, one on each glove and boot, and she doesn't use an axe. Use some imagination :P))

Skills: Lia is brilliant with a scythe especially with her scythe she has now, which is named Reaper. She can run a good pace while in plate armor, but when she isn't wearing plate and wearing her mail armor, she can run pretty darn fast, must be from all the mischief from when she was younger. She knows a lot about rune magic and is a blacksmith, sometimes combining the two.

History: Lia is a warrior, always has been. She trained long and hard, mostly for around 20 years, always learning the way of the blade. When she was finally dispatched on her first mission in Stonetalon Mountain, the group she was sent with was ambushed and she was captured by Night elves and wad held there for a few years before she finally released. She thought that there was no point in the war between Horde and Alliance anymore due to when she was captured and watched the Night elves go about their daily life's. She has been neutral to the war ever since. Over the many years of her life, she had traveled to Northend, where she discovered Rune magic and practiced it. It took her years to master the art.

Reason: Part of the Patrol.

Name: Coron Moonblade (By friends, he is known as Core, Corebutt by Lia)
Race: Kal'dorei
Gender: Male
Class/es: Druid of the Talon
Affiliation: Although he does help with the affairs of the Alliance time to time, he is neutral

Appearance: Coron stands at a tall 7'5 with a straight and always ready posture. His handsome face is always clean shaved, a sly smirk would seem natural on his facial features. He has no scars, but he is literally covered, head to toe, in tattoos. Most of it is tribal looking vines and leaves, but three would stand out. A crow on the right side of his chest, a tiger on his back that looks like it was made of shredded leaves, and then a Dragon tattoo that goes around his right eye, it's maw opened in a fierce yet silent roar. He has amber eyes, a mane of dark blue hair, dark light-ish blue skin, and carries and athletic build.

Equipment: Core's leather looks odd for one who is a Druid. Being a Talon, most would expect feathered gear, which most do wear...not Coron though. He wears black leathers, mostly it looks like the rogue's Assassination leather set ((, only the shoulders are not as bulky...and don't have spikes. Buckles would criss-cross his chest, waist bags filled with different types of potions and remedies would be strapped around his waist. For his weapon, he has a blue elementium scythe like Lia.

Skills: Core is a High Alchemist, he makes a variety of different potions and exilers to aid both him and others in battle, he has three bags with three different times of potions he mostly uses in battle, red is explosive, green is acid, and blue is icy like concoctions (if i spelt that right >_>). Unlike most Druids, he loves to fight at close range, meaning he uses his spells at close range when he can. For example, he would have his scythe in his right hand, and a charged up starsurge in his left, when charging and a enemy, he would hold the blade of the scythe in front of him like a shield, and when he is close enough, he would blast his enemy with the Starsurge. If he is force to fight and long range, he will do so easily.

History: Not much is know about Coron, the only thing really know about him is his duties that he had served during the War of Mount Hyjal, being a messenger and leading strike groups on certain groups of enemies that tried to take different routs to the World Tree. It was that war he lost both of his parents and his older brother. Being of the Talon, after the war, he served to be the more 'Assassin' of the Druids, along with three of his friends he knows.

Reason: Part of the Patrol.

Okay, so Gaream, just before I completely accept you, are you going to play nice with the other boys and girls? :P This is essentially a cooperative thread, I fully intend to allow distrust and hatred to take place ICly, but I don't want this to turn into a PvPfest, it is not a PvP thread. So, your character's not going to have any issues with trying to kill all of us or anything is he?

Everyone else accepted and welcome back.
Name: Marasalle Sturmblade

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Class/es: Arcane mage with heavy frost talents. Also dabbles in illusion magic.

Affiliation: Lately she has been working with the Cenarion Circle and the Earthen Ring. Trying to bring the balance back. Her work with the Argents has made her mostly neutral.

Appearance: Long reddish brown hair falls to her waist, softly curling around her face in wisps. Her eyes are bright blue with an intelligent gleam when she is concentrating on her craft. Her alabaster skin is nearly translucent. So pale her veins are blue where they sit close to the surface. She does not like bright sunlight and avoids it. That may have something to do more with the light sprinkle of freckles on her face than an aversion to the light. Her hands are expressive with long fingers tipped with painted nails.

Equipment: Her robes are of the highest quality, they should be because she makes them. Her favorite color is blue, though lately she has taken to wearing darker and more somber tones. Threads of enchanted silk often run through her garments, to make them sturdy and to enhance and magnify her skills. Her staff is an ancient one she was gifted by a group of mages in Dalaran after she spent months tutoring some of the newer mages in the nuances of arcane control. The brilliant crystal on the head of it was unearthed in the far reaches of Northrend. It has no color until she imbues it with her school of choice. Blue for ice, purple for arcane, red for fire and a curious mixture of colors for when she utilizes the pendent she wears around her neck.

This pendent was a gift from a very dear friend. It holds the essence of Light from someone she still holds in her heart, and a shard of some ancient artifact that allows her to cast minor spells of almost any school, including some minor heals and some earth magic of binding. These spells have been a life saver for her more than once. She seldom uses them anymore however, as the memories they invoke bring her much pain.

Skills: Mara can call on some minor spells of nature and Light for healing. But these are very minor and only used sparingly. She can gather a huge amount of arcane magic and relies heavily on the frost school as well. Her skills as a tailor often have her mending almost any cloth armor. She also calls upon her training as an enchanter to strengthen and enhance her tailored items.

History: Mara was born in Southshore. Her family fled to Stormwind just before the Scourge made its way north in the kingdom of Lorderon. They were put to work almost immediately in the Stormwind military. Both of them were paladins, and they left Mara in the care of a Kaldorei priest named Faythalla.

While they were in Stormwind, Mara found out she had a greater talent for arcane magic than the Light. So with her parents blessing, she took up the mantle of a mage. Many years of training later she was assigned to safeguard the Mage District in Stormwind from any attacks from magic to spies. Her talents were well utilized in minor military scuffles from Arathi to the plagued lands in the north, all the way to Kalimdor and the wilds of Feralas.

It was not until she was called to the exotic lands on the other side of the Dark Portal, that she found her truest talents of focused arcane and devastating ice. She relished defeating demons and Horde alike in the Outlands. She came home with a new friend, a netherdrake she had rescued from the orcs in Shadowmon Valley. She learned his name was Antonazza. He sometimes took elven form and accompanied her as a guardian in her adventures. Though he usually did not interfere unless her life was in danger.

Reason for joining: Marasalle has become very disillusioned with the Alliance. She went to the Highlands at the behest of a long time friend. A dwarf named Bridgette Murphy. It seemed to be a twist of fate that led her to become embroiled in the battles between Alliance and Horde. Though she originally only intended on helping to stamp out the Twilight Cultists that plagued the hills and the dwarves who dwelt there. As she battled Cultists and Horde alike she kept hearing of a group of rebels calling themselves some kind of Patrol. With a letter of introduction in hand she went to find their camp in the Highlands.
Name: Ithalin Frosthand, or Ithalin.
Race: Undead Human
Gender: Male
Class/es: Death Knight
Affiliation: Minor affiliation to the Ebon Blade. Former member of the Borean Patrol, 'discharged' in Deepholm after murdering an orc.

Appearance: Ithalin's face is nothing but bone, the skin ripped away for reasons he does not know. The rest of his body is nearly fully-skinned, with multiple scars over it. The largest being from his right shoulder to his left thigh.

Equipment: Standard-issue Death Knight armor, and a specially-commissioned helmet, with a glowing blue smile engraved on it, intended to strike fear.(In simpler terms, my gear to the left but with the glows on the helm changed to blue.) For weapons, he wields a large two-headed scythe (The ones Dark Templars use in SCII), with one blade blue and the other green. He also has to daggers, named 'Unholy' and 'Frost'.(Creative, I know.)

Skills: Excellent scythe user, has developed many tactics to swiftly dispatch enemies.

History: Leaving this blank because even I think his history is dancing along the lore line.

Reason: After being taken away by the Earthen Ring guards in Deepholm, he was sent through a portal to a waiting cart that was sent by the Horde to bring him to Ogrimmar. However, on the way there the cart came under fire from Alliance cannon. Ithalin used this distraction to freeze and break his chains, and ran off into a nearby ditch. After making sure that he was in no danger of being found, he created a portal back to the Ebon Hold. He was dispatched to the Twilight Highlands, and upon hearing that the Patrol was in the area, seeks to re-join his former comrades.
Name: Adrian Octavian
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Class/es: Marksman.
Affiliation: Borean Patrol

Appearance: 6'0, slender but muscular built, he has short black hair that always seems to look like he just woke up after a long night, his body is decorated with scars from recent wars and conflicts. He is rarely clean shaven.

Equipment: Tough cloth tan pants and top, tan boots leather gloves, he wears a plate vest that only covers his vital chest and back areas, a knee-pad on just his right knee, engineering goggles and a backpack. Pouches on his belt and vest for weapon magazines and other accessories. Weapons are two short Gladii, a revolver and his rifle, a modified Wolfslayer Sniper rifle with one barrel, pistol grip and retractable bipod, and bayonet. He carries a pretty well equipped first aid kit.

Skills: Great eyesight, enhanced with goggles. Fantastic marksman, engineer and leatherworker. Melee combat is lacking, but he can hold his own. First aid.

History: A sergeant in his time serving the Alliance, he fought in Outlands, Northrend, and only somewhat during the Cataclysm. He grew up with his brother Dristis and they're best friends. More often than not together, sometimes they go their separate ways for various reasons until reuniting. Tired with the never ending chess game that is the Alliance and Horde, he retired from the Alliance army and joined the Borean Patrol, wanting to try to make a positive difference in the world and end these petty conflicts. He suffers from traumatic stress after his nearly constant fighting during his time in the Army, he hides it with a boisterous attitude and alcohol.

Reason: Part of the patrol on the Zeppelin, only having been in the Borean Patrol just a few weeks since they entered Twilight Highlands.
Accepted Marasalle, and Ithalin... I'll accept you, just don't expect open arms and love when you get back to the Patrol.
And it's a good job I'm not planning to have war in this one.... because she'd probably root Ithalin to the ground and leave him there...

(By this point Waraila will have been recalled to Hyjal thanks to the cultists tearing the entire place up)

So no kitty this time. She'll have left not long after deepholme for those that were in the other patrol thread, and she will have left with no hard feelings and wishing Vimmi and everyone else to stay well. (with particular emphasis on Vimmi) <.< As well as telling them that if they get themselves killed she won't forgive them ;)
I'll take these well-wishes both ICly and OOCly then Waraila, :) I hope if you poke your head into the thread occasionally, you like what you see. Waraila's an important influence of Vimmi's, so you wont be soon forgotten. :)
Name: Coris Amberflame
Race: Worgen
Gender: Male
Class: Priest
Affiliation: Commanding healer of the Duskwood Night watchers

Apperance: Coris stands at 5'11' and is alot skinnier than other worgen. If you see him in his human form (which is rare) he is even smaller standing at 5'9'. When he is in human form you can see a dark circle around his left eye. In his Worgen form he doesn't stand hunched like the other Worgen (think of the greymane picture... if it's acceptible).

Equipment: Coris is issued a set of priest ware (the first priest teir but I don't have the items) and he has a small wand-like staff.

Skills: As with all Worgen, Coris has a heightened hearing and smelling, but that is only in his Worgen form... when he is in human it returns to its natural state. Coris is an exceptional healer that takes both herbs, surgury, and the light into play.

History: Coris lives in Duskwood as the Commanding healer of the Night Watchers. he has been accepted into the city as its official healer and carries around the burden. After being their for a few years the people of Duskwood have grown fond of his form and even had a girlfriend here and there.Coris keeps to himself sometimes usually when he is in deep thought or he just does not like your tone, but when the time is needed he provides good wisdom for his age and even takes a few apprentices under his wings.

Reason: Coris has always heared about the patrol and wishes to seek them out. (if this is acceptable meep :) )
Has I been accepted?
I -just- missed you sorry Dristis. xD Yes, you are, so are you Coris.

There is something I realized I was -really- stupidly vague about in the opening post. Like, woops.

Technically, we weren't in the zeppelin when in crashed. See, this scene is in my mind but I forgot to clarify that. The zeppelin more or less crashed on top of us. (I will clarify this when I open the IC thread). But, just saying for you guys.

Edit: Just a note Dristin... you've only been with the patrol 2-3 weeks at most, as long as they've been in the Twilight Highlands. We can assume you signed up as soon as they got here.
Name: Varonus Lor'dinan

Age: Unknown, seems to look 25 in human years.

Personality: Silent, not very talkative, normally speaks without hinting emotion.

Appearance: Lean, yet well built and fairly strong. Fair, smooth face with dark blue hair tied back into a tail.

Affiliation: Pure Neutral

Class: Battle Mage

Skills: Sword and arcane fighting, alchemy, and world knowledgeable.

Reason: Has been apart of the Borean Patrols since the Borean tundra itself; after the events of Deepholme he has vowed to stay with the group until the end.


A strange and mysterious individual. Hailing from the city of Silvermoon, the Sin'dorei is rarely seen with other members of his race. In fact, he is rarely seen at all. Only in certain times has the wandering elf appeared to others, mostly when those others are in need of aid. Though, he does not appear to one person in need, rather, when the world itself is on the break of destruction. Three times Azeroth has faced a world ending terror in his lifetime and three times has this mysterious elf taken his blade and spells to the battlefield to assist all who stand against it. Be they human, elf, orc, horde or alliance, the mage will always lend his strength to any cause willing to put aside factional differences and work toward the ultimate evil that faces them. However, at each time the encroaching danger has manifested itself, the wandering mage will simply vanish when the world is assuredly saved.

No one has ever gotten close to this shadow of a man but one person; Vimmi Spannershield, leader of the late Borean Patrols that was stationed in Northrend during the time of Arthas's siege on Azeroth. Though Vimmi never exchanged many words with the elf, he somehow placed his trust to her, as she was one of the few remaining souls truly willing to fight for the greater good of the world, not for her faction. though the battle at Icecrown ended in tragedy the elf still vanished without a trace, leaving the Patrol in a single night without even so much as a goodbye.

Today, his whereabouts are still unknown, and his motive even less clear. Who is he? What does he want? Why does he only show himself at times of crisis? Is he a true ally or a deceitful conspirator? There is no clear answer to any of these questions; the man is a true anomaly that those who he appears to question if he even exists as a living person, or some magical or divine construct made only to serve those in need. His personality is clouded and nonexistent; rarely does emotion ever show on that smooth skinned face.

He fights with cold and unflinching precision; his fighting style and spells tuned to a deadly status, though being an adept of both physical and magical combat he cannot fully realize the potential of both. Thus he does not fight as a pure spellslinger or warrior, taking to combining his magical prowess and his experience with a blade in battle, usually in the form of rapid teleports, illusionary images and empowering his physical strikes with magic properties.

He has been seen in a purple and black robe as well as a pure black one, not really changing from either. He also carries an ocean blue sword that is empowered by a green gem embedded in its hilt, enchanted to burst into cold, blue fires upon being drawn. It has carried the name Tempest and is the only weapon the mage is seen with, save for the rare times he uses a fallen opponent's one in times of separation from it.

Name: Alistair Presoor

Race: Human (Undead)

Gender: Male

Class/es: Death Knight (Unholy)

Affiliation: Neutral

Appearance: Alistair is a shambling wreck of a human being. He has suffered severe scarring across his entire body.

His face has three large claw marks extending from his lower right cheek all the way to the left side of his forehead. The middle cut goes straight across his eye, more specifically across his iris, completely disabling sight in his left eye. He uses nothing to cover it.

The right side of his face suffers a severe burn mark, going across one side of his neck and spreading to his temple.

His torso is very muscular, no doubt from years of strenuous training before he suffered this cruel fate. Another burn mark interlacing with the one on his face completely covers his right shoulder and down to his stomach.

His waist is made up of a single large saronite plate that is welded into his skin, in order to keep his upper and lower body connected.

Equipment: Alistair wears black saronite plated armor, without a helmet. The only other thing in his possession is a two-handed Runeblade Greatsword, which he uses to battle.

Skills: Alistair is incredibly skilled in melee combat. Apart from that, his superior strength makes him formidable in close quarters even without a weapon. He also possesses extensive knowledge of necromancy, though he prefers not to use it unless prompted.

History: Alistair was born in Lordaeron to a Gilnean father and Alterac-born Mother. His father had won himself recognition and wealth for his deeds fighting the Orc menace. Through his childhood, Alistair was constantly trying to impress his peers as he strived to be a combatant for the Alliance. During this time, he tormented his younger brother, Jaggo, for the mere fun of it.

At a young age, his family was betrayed due to political infighting. This led to the assassination of his father, and the surviving members of his family retreating to Dalaran. His mother was a member of the Kirin Tor, and as such, they were kind enough to shelter them. This did not deter Alistair's ambitions however. Instead, it merely fueled him forward with the promise of revenge.

When Dalaran (and the rest of Lordaeron) fell to the Scourge, Alistair was in the midst of fleeing the city with his brother, his mother electing to stay behind and defend the city. In the enusing chaos, he managed to escape without harm. However, he had lost all trace of his brother and mother when all was said and done.

Alistair managed to escape the collapsing Lordaeron and fled south to Stormwind. Having everything taken from him, he set out on his own, deciding to finish his training long enough to become an Alliance soldier. But at that point, his dream had become moot. Yet he still trekked forward both stubbornly and cynically, his only reasoning being he did not wish such a terrible world to get the better of him.

After the campaign in Outlands ended, he was one of the first off the boat to Northrend. It was here he signed up for the Borean Patrol at the behest of his superiors.

For months he followed the Patrol. Although he couldn't help but see the pitiful irony in it all. He finally had a chance to bring demise to the creatures that had cost him so dearly, but at that point, it was impossible for him to truly care anymore. Everything had already been destroyed years ago, now all he was doing was preventing it happening to some other poor soul. He was a slave, molding the world that took everything from him into something he could never have.

But still, he fought forward throughout Northrend, the only hope he was clinging to was proving his point that he could not be broken.


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