The Twisted shadows fall...((IC))

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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A white hawk, wings spread fully, would soar across the ocean towards the destined locations around Azeroth. It was a tiresome journey, with one more stop to make to deliver the message given to him by the Priestess, Shinaria. Finally, after a long while, the Eastern Kingdoms came into view. Good, it was almost there, it just needed to hold out for a bit longer before it can finally take a rest.


Stormwind, the final place to deliver the call to those who wish to aid Shinaria and Krystala into journeying north with them to fight against those who wish to destroy this very world. He saw the hero's call board, and swooped down towards it, landing on top of it and ruffling it's feathers. A guard caught sight of it and walked on over, noticing the parcel strapped to it's back.

Pulling it out, he unrolled it, noticing something attached to the bottom of it; a small bag of runes.

The note would bare the symbol of the Argent Crusade and at the top corner, a small version of a start with a dagger in the middle.

"Hero of the Horde or Alliance, here this call.

A great darkness has shown, it's ugly head rearing to unleash a monstrosity known as Project Midnight.

Come, answer the call, take a rune and crush it in your palm, you will be transported here.

Glory awaits you! Light will Praise you!"

~Shinaria Sunblaze, The Holy Jailor~


"Well this is a surprise."

Krystala stood at the foot of the ruined castle she stayed in. Standing beside her was Shinaria and a female Vrykul, leader of the clan that was located on the isle, her name was Krishma. In front of them, garbed in black and dark crimson plate armor, was Kal'tharon Dawnshadow. His helm tucked under his left arm, while in his right was a closed fist where he had crushed said rune, he was teleported here..however he was never expecting to be standing in front of the girl that he had been hunting for the majority of his life.

"Krystala..?" he'd mutter, almost amazed, but angered as well.. His eyes shifted over to Shinaria, who raised her hand to stop any sort of words that might escape the man's mouth "I was shocked too, but before you draw your blade I suggest you hear her out. If you are her older brother, then let it be that you listen to your own blood."

Kal opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. Judging by the woman's armor, she was a member of the Argent Crusade. Why would someone like her help Krystala? Why would she even bother? Wouldn't she more like want to kill her rather than help her? Everything about this seemed wrong, out of place, but he held is tongue and lowered his hand.

"Well so far you've answered the call.." Krystala said, looking out over to the horizon, where the looming mass of the Howling Fjord could have been seen "Who else would follow?.."
The Master looked up from his desk at the sound of someone knocking on his study door. A moment later, a massive humanoid completely covered in a suit of Saronite plate armor walked in and took up a position of attention in front of his desk.

“You asked to see me?” Carnifex asked. The Master nodded and set a sheet of paper and a small rune on the table. The Death Knight ignored the paper, trusting another part of itself to read it: his attention was focused on the Master.

“One of our agents took a rune from a message board in Stormwind and copied the accompanying message. If this can be believed, it seems that the Argent Crusade has gotten word of some new grand menace and is assembling a group of the 'heroes' of the Horde and Alliance to confront it.” The Master leaned over his desk, his storm-grey eyes staring intently at Carnifex. “I do not like the Argent Crusade or anyone else sniffing around our territory. Northrend is ours, and I want to keep it that way. I am sending you, because quite frankly, you are more likely to survive an ambush. You are to depart immediately. Do your best to ascertain whether this is, in fact, genuine. If this Project Midnight is a threat, ensure that it does not interfere with Project Vanirstürm or any of our other operations.”

“Sir.” Carnifex replied as he picked up the rune. The plate glove tightened, and then Carnifex disappeared in a flash of light.

The Death Knight reappeared on a starkly bare island with a ruined castle and four people in front of it. Carnifex drew his sword, concerned about the possibility of betrayal, and looked at the people who had apparently summoned him here.

“And what is happening here?” he inquired.
Gizzle hammered his tools on his new creation, which he had been working on for around 2 months now. After turning a bolt in with his wrench several times, he set his tools down and took a sip of his Kaja'Cola, walking over to a nearby table which held schematics to the machine.
"Yep, all finished." He said with a small smirk as picked up his creation, holding it up for about 2 seconds before falling down, "'s heavy. Gizmo!.." He shouted. "Gizmo! Gizmo!" He kept shouting before a small robot walked over to him and tilted his torso up, "Yes...?" He asked before Gizzle handed the poor robot the machine, "Take this, we're going out." He said as the robot carried the machine with ease. The Goblin and his companion both went outside into the city of Silvermoon, the only city he hasn't been banned from besides Rachet. He went over and hopped on his mechano hog, Gizmo jumping into the back seat as they drove off.

After a few minutes of driving, Gizzle saw a crowd of Sindorei, all of them conversing and staring at one spot. He got off and quickly ran into the crowd. He soon saw a guard holding up a letter with a rune on it. Being the greedy goblin he is, Gizzle knew it was his. He quickly grabbed the rune when the guard wasn't looking, then proceeded to drive off back to where he needed to go, not knowing at all what the rune did.
Rare was it that Sammuroth Stormfury left his seclusion in Moonglade, it wasn't that he was unsociable, or disliked being around people. He just preferred the quiet that Moonglade offered, it kept him feeling young, and being over ten thousand years old one needed to do whatever he could to feel young. His adopted daughter helped of course, a ball of fire that one was, but he enjoyed every moment he spent with her, unfortunately he had been requested to leave the Moonglade, on a small mission for the Cenarion Circle. The Circle often sent him out to the various capital cities of both factions, to help his brothe, and sister druids train new recruits, and being a cat, he had no problems whereever he went. This time he had been sent to Stormwind, one of his least favorite cities, along with Orgrimmar, it wasn't the people who caused his dislike of the two major capitals, it was their leaders. Despite his dislike of the two faction leaders, he would never let that keep him from teaching young minds of the druidic ways.

He had been here for three days, and was anxious to get home, all the noise of the city was starting to wear on him, and he longed for the quiet of Moonglade. However being the kind of man he was, he felt the need to stop by the call board to see, if there was anything he could help with. He scanned the board nothing catching his eye, just the usual delivery jobs, a few requests to hunt some troublesome wildlife, nothing that the city guard, or young men, and women couldn't handle. He was about to turn away when a particular symbol caught his eye it was the sign of the Argent Crusade, it was rare they put jobs on the call board, so it surprised the druid. What surprised him more was the second symbol that adorned the notice, this second symbol seemed dark, and sinister to the cat, the Crusade would not help any kind of dark organization.

His curiosity was piqued though, and he found himself reading the notice, it called for heroes to combat something called Project Midnight, it sounded like something suited for the Church of Light, and not a druid of the Circle. However, this Project Midnight sounded particularly sinister to the druid, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to answer the call, they can always send me back, if they feel I am not suited to the task." The druid took one of the runes in his mouth, since he didn't have any hands, and carried it to the inn. He couldn't leave on a potentially dangerous quest without informing his adopted daughter Lori, she would worry of course, but she would have no way to follow him. He asked the innkeeper if she would take down a letter for him, and she agreed, it helped that he tended to stay at this inn every time he visited Stormwind.

After dictating the letter he asked her to send it right away, and she promised to do so, that finished the druid left the building, and found a back alley where he wouldn't be disturbed. He took the rune in his paw, and squeezed, crushing it easily, he wished he had been prepared for what happened next. The druid felt himself pulled through the ether, as if being pulled through, an extremly tight space, it didn't hurt, but it was quite disorienting. He closed his eyes, and said a small prayer to Elune, and just as suddenly as it happened it stopped, and the cat opened his eyes. Judging by the landscape he assumed he was somewhere in Northrend, where exactly he didn't know, but he assumed the giant castle in front of him was his destination. Cautious by nature the druid prepared for a fight, in case this was a trap, but if it wasn't he couldn't risk a misunderstanding if he snuck into the castle, so he opted to stay visible. He walked toward the castle, in front of him stood a group of people, he assumed one of them had been the one to send the summons, he could hear their conversation from where he was, so he decided to stay in the background until he decided if this whole thing was legitimate.
Bryah was sitting at her desk, filling out the inevitable paperwork that followed a successful capture. She sighed and looked out the window. It was a beautiful day in Silvermoon City and she would have given anything to be able to go hunting in the woods. Even a trip to the beach would have been better than being stuck inside.

A knock at the doorway interrupted her thoughts. “Come in.”
“Sorry Bree. This just came in for you. I thought you might want to look at it. The messenger has already gone, but he said it was important.”
Bryah sighed and held out her hand. “Fine, give it to me.”
“Here you go. By the way. Boss said you've got to have that report done by the end of the day.”
“Huh? Oh sure.” Bryah was opening the message and found a rune accompanied by a note. She read the note and her face formed into a frown as she read the words.

“Sorry, Jen, I'll get that report done. I just have to go and talk to the boss about this.” She raced out the door, leaving Jen gaping in her wake. The captain was talking to another one of the sergeants when she burst through his door.
“Starstrider! What is the meaning of this?”
Bryah slowed herself and handed him the piece of paper. “Sorry Sir, but this landed on my desk a few minutes ago. I'm requesting permission to check it out. If the Argent Crusade is asking for heroes, the situation is dire.”
He looked at her. Starstrider wasn't above fabricating help requests to get out of paperwork, but the note in front of him looked genuine. He read the note again.

"Hero of the Horde or Alliance, here this call.

A great darkness has shown, it's ugly head rearing to unleash a monstrosity known as Project Midnight.

Come, answer the call, take a rune and crush it in your palm, you will be transported here.

Glory awaits you! Light will Praise you!"

~Shinaria Sunblaze, The Holy Jailor~

He was concerned. If the Argent Crusade was involved, the threat was very real indeed. He sighed. Starstrider was watching him, waiting for his response.

“Very well Starstrider. You can go, but, you have to get those reports done before you leave.”
"Thank you Sir! I'll have them finished within the hour.”

Bryah raced back to her office and flew through the paperwork. True to her word, she was finished with in the hour and had given her captain the reports. “Dismissed. Go and prepare for your journey. Don't forget cold weather gear. A rune like the one is mentioned is used in the frozen north. It's likely that you are heading towards some very cold weather.”
“Yes Sir. Thank you.”

She raced back to her apartment, threw her gear into a back pack, and whistled for Hades and Blaze. The animals raced towards her and she snapped leashes onto their collars. Hades snuffled at her hand while Blaze fanned her face with his wings. “Stay close to me boys. We're going on a trip.”
She stood, hefted her pack onto her shoulder, then crushed the rune in her hand.

The world around her changed, the light streaking purple and changing to an all encompassing purple glow. As the glow subsided, and her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw the image of a ruined castle appear. Still adjusting to the new surroundings, all she could make out was that one of the people in front of her was head and shoulders above everyone else, indicating she was a Vrykul, a native of the frozen land of Northrend. “Well I guess that settles the question of where I am.”

She looked at the others around her. They seemed to be looking at a woman in an Argent Crusade tabard. That must be the woman in charge, now what was her name... Shinaria Sunblaze, that was it. Bryah approached her and saluted. “Ranger Bryah Starstrider of the Silvermoon City Guard. How can I help Ma'am?”
“I thought I might find you here.”

Ascul was tending to one of the injured Broken in the lower cities of Shattrath when he heard a female voice speak to him in Draenic. Glancing upward his eyes met a female draenei clothed in fine white and blue silk robes.

“Priestess Arina.” Ascul greeted her with a smile. “Fancy seeing you here."

She bowed to him in respect and smiled to both him and the Broken draenei. “How is your leg feeling, Makari?”

Makari looked down at the bandages around his leg. “Eh, it has seen better days,” he said with a humorous smile. “Damn imps.” He chuckled softly which soon turned into a coughing fit. Ascul frowned in concern. When he recovered, the broken spoke again. “I shall leave you two be for now. It seems the priestess has something important to share with you.” He grabbed his staff and pushed himself up much to Ascul’s protest. The Broken waved dismissively at him, “Do not fret over me, child! I once fought off a horde of bloodthirsty felorcs! I am more than capable of walking myself home.” Ascul sighed as he watched him hobble off knowing better than to try and stop him, unless he wanted a beating from his staff.

“Stubborn old fool,” he grumbled.

Arina chuckled a bit and said, “I have a message for you sent from Azeroth.” She reached into her robes and materialized a small folded parchment stamped with a seal baring the symbol of the Naaru. “They said it is vital that you receive it immediately.”

Ascul frowned and took the letter unfolding it and reading over it carefully.

<Dear Ascul,
The Hand of Argus has been approached by the Argent Crusade to aid in a new threat against Azeroth. They are looking for heroes of the Alliance and Horde, alike, to aid in this new mission. Naturally, I volunteered. Now before you get mad, I would just like to add that they are looking for Light wielders in particular. Very skilled Light wielders. Maybe someone with over 10 thousand years of experience? Oh, you know what I’m driving at. Just get your big blue tail here NOW! Meet me at the tavern in Booty Bay tomorrow at dawn. I’ll cover traveling expenses.

Love, Erani

P.S. Be sure to pack warm>
It was dawn. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Rysill hummed a melancholy tune to herself as she sat contently at a corner of the inn at Booty Bay reading one of her many books. It was no secret that, even in life, Rysill was always the avid bookworm Her loyal geist, Gutripper, was crouched at her feet with her knapsack slung over his shoulder, awaiting an order from his mistress at any moment. There were few other patrons awake at this time, making the inn quiet and serene. No obnoxious drunken dwarves or chatty humans to disturb her at this hour. It was her favorite time of the day. When it seemed that the world was still asleep. She glanced up when Erani entered the dining area of the inn from her room upstairs, still groggy and slow. Her hair was still wet from her morning bath.

Rysill smiled softly to her and spoke in Draenic, “Good morning. They should be serving breakfast within about an hour. How was your night?”
Erani shrugged. “I guess I slept well.” Setting her heavy knapsack down beside her, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a small match box. Lighting it, she took a long drag.

“That’s good,” said Rysill

“Have you packed everything?” asked Erani.

“Yes, I have. When can we leave?”

“Just as soon as our third guest arrives.”

“…Third guest? You don’t mean….”

Erani smiled innocently at Rysill.

“You didn’t…,” said Rysill with a hint of irritation in her voice.

Just then, the door to the inn swung open. Ascul had to duck beneath the door frame to get in, his sporebat hatchling, Krista in tow behind him. Rysill stared blankly at Ascul for a short time before turning to glower at Erani who shrugged and said, “You wouldn’t have come if I told you.”

When Ascul spotted his undead cousin he frowned slightly. This would not end well. Erani smiled and got up to hug her brother in greeting. “It has been a while, brother,” she said.
Ascul returned the hug. “That it has.”

Erani blinked in surprise then pushed herself away from him to meet his gaze. “You’re not going to berate me for volunteering for this potentially life threatening assignment?”

Ascul shook his head. “I’ve grown tired of lecturing you, Erani. I know by now that I cannot change your mind. I think it easier to just roll with whatever you have planned. Besides…” He looked to his bags and gave her an uncharacteristically mischievous smile smiled. “I think it has been a while since I last had myself a bit of an adventure.”
Erani smiled wryly. “So there is a bit of our father within you after all.”
Ascul chuckled a bit. “I suppose you could say that.”
In reality, Ascul was joining Erani in hopes that he could protect her on this journey. If he could not change her mind he would at least keep her safe.
Smiling, Ascul turned to Rysill. “It has been a while, cousin.”

Rysill huffed and said, “Not long enough.”

Ascul’s smile wavered slightly. He remembered the cheerful young draenei he used to babysit when she was just learning to walk. How did it come to this? She was so unhappy. So miserable. She needed to be put to rest.

“Reli, I know I have asked you of this before, but perhaps you could consider allowing me to…”
“Choose your next words wisely, Light-wielder,” Rysill growled.

Ascul sighed but said no more.

Erani led Ascul to their table. She waited for him to be seated before she took out a small piece of parchment and set it down on the table for both of them to read:
"Hero of the Horde or Alliance, here this call.

A great darkness has shown, its ugly head rearing to unleash a monstrosity known as Project Midnight.
Come, answer the call, take a rune and crush it in your palm, you will be transported here.
Glory awaits you! Light will Praise you!"

~Shinaria Sunblaze, The Holy Jailor~

Erani interlaced her fingers and leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table before speaking, “To make a long story short, The Argent Crusade is looking for members of both the Alliance and Horde to help them fight this ‘Project Midnight’ in the farthest reaches of Northrend. Light wielders in particular. So, of course they would seek the help of the draenei first, hence, the Hand of Argus’ involvement. I was among the Vindicators who stepped forward to accept this task and I want you two to accompany me. Now that it has been settled that our party has been completed I would like to lay down some ground rules.”

Erani pointed to Ascul, “No preaching! There are going to be plenty of dark magic users where we are going and I do NOT want you making enemies with our allies! Keep in mind this is for the greater good, brother. Our personal beliefs cannot get in the way of what must be done.”

Ascul growled but nodded in understanding.

Erani pointed to Rysill, “No instigating arguments with Ascul!”

Rysill gave her a bland look.

“I mean it, Reli. No trying to antagonize any Light wielders, druids, or elementalists either. Understood?”
Rysill simply glared.

Erani nodded back. “Good. Then we have an understanding. We leave after we have eaten.”
Later that morning the three would leave the inn with their belongings. Rysill stopped at the stables to pick up her deathcharger, Nightmare. Behind her, trailed Gutripper, carrying her heavy bag or armor and supplies. Krista circled over them in excitement. The little sporebat had always had a thirst for adventure. Just outside of the large pair of shark-jaws that marked the entrance to Booty Bay, Ascul clicked his tongue a few times and she obediently glided toward his palm where he cradled her gently. Erani and Ascul hastily threw on their winter gear. Of course, Rysill had no need for such. Erani materialized the three runes and handed one to each of them. “See you on the other side,” she said as she crushed the rune and vanished.
The other two followed suit.

In a flash of purple and black the world spun around them before they once again met stable soil, though now, it was coated in a sheet of snow. They were greeted by the sight of the ruined castle. Erani quickly recovered and looked back at the others. Nightmare, did not enjoy the unpleasant ride and whickered and screeched to announce her displeasure. Rysill patted her on the snout and she quickly calmed. Gutripper had landed a little ways away from Rysill and he quickly scurried to her side with an iron grip on her belongings which Rysill leaned down to pick up and fasten to her steed. Ascul made a face at the sight of the geist. Such a horrid abomination. If the other Anchorites of the Aldor ever found out he was working with a death knight…
He shook his head in disgust and turned away, though Rysill caught him staring and glowered at him.

“I think I see a member of the Argent Crusade. Let’s be off,” said Erani taking note of the towering female Vrykul and trying her damnest not to blatantly gape at her size.

Krieg shaded his eyes from the harsh sunlight as he exited the bank in the dwarven district. He had spent the last few hours arguing with one of the tellers as he had tried to deposit his latest earnings. It had taken multpiple hours but after a prolonged shouting match, the teller finally excepted the gold coins and Krieg left the establishment in a huff. As his eyes adjusted to the light his other sense adjusted to the acidic smells and choking smoke that was the dwarven section. This did little to improve his already sour mood.

All around him fellow dwarves bustled around their business totally content with their lot in life; and their surroundings. How the Bronzebeards lived like this Krieg couldn’t fathom, no self-respecting Wild hammer would tolerate these cramped dirty quarters, but, they were not Wild hammers. Putting his finger to his lips, Krieg let out a sharp whistle, which was almost instantaneously answered with an avian cry.

Like a bolt of lightning Swift feather descended from the heavens. The Gyrphon’s wings folded tightly to his body helping his accelerate ever fast towards the cobblestone. At the last possible moment, the mighty gryphon unfurled his wings with a loud snap, sending dirty and debris flying in all directions.

Krieg let a derisive snort as he grabbed the harness and swung himself atop the massive beast. “Show boatin ag’in are ye lady?” Krieg questioned, annoyance dripping off every word, as he strapped himself in. Sensing his friends sour mood, Swift Feather spun his head around made eye contact with Krieg. A mischievous glare crossed his eagle like features, before he hurtling off the ground, once again careening through the air. Even though Krieg knew what was coming, as soon as that look crossed his friend face, He had to hold on for dear life in hopes of maintaining any kind of equilibrium.

Like a bullet, Swift feather raced through the towers and palisades of Stromwind, seemingly trying to leave pieces of Kireg’s weather beaten features attached to everyone. When he was done with the obstacle course, Swiftfeather began doing corkscrews, barrel rolls and other various aerial maneuvers that would have put any gryphon of Stormwind to shame. After a particularly violent corkscrew, Krieg finally relented. “Oye im sorry lady, set me down or by kurdans flowin beard il roast ye fer dinner!”

With a screech of delight Swiftfeather again collapsed his wings to his chest and again hurtled towards the unrelenting cobblestone. As the ground grew ever closer, Krieg sent a prayer to the ancestors in hopes that they would bless his dear featherbrained friend with some sense. At the last possible second swift feather unfurled his wings with a loud snap and gently landed next to the auction house.

It took a few fumbling attempts for Krieg to undo his straps before he could tumble from his companions back to the safety of Stormwind’s streets. After a few minutes Krieg’s heart rate returned to normal and the cobwebs were starting to fade. With a glare that could pierce iron, Krieg stare daggers at his friend whom now seemed to not notice the disheveled dwarf whom he had just put through the wringer.

Preening and feigning innocents, Swiftfeather meekly approached Krieg gently nudging him in the chest. This act of submission which was so unlike his friend caused Kireg’s anger to dissipate like clouds on a sunny day. Krieg let out a laugh as he stares at this utterly magnificent creature that could act so asine and so meek from moment to moment. Ruffling his friends feathers Krieg found himself wandering towards the call boards, Swift Feather following close behind.

As he approached he quickly scanned the boards searching for entertaining work. For months he had been helping local farmers from west fall clear out encroaching Gnolls and murloc’s whom had grown brazen recently after years of docility. It had been tedious work, but none too hard. Between himself and Swiftfeather, they had managed to slay or drive off most of the large tribes of Gnolls and murloc’s from the region.

With his reward promptly deposited in the bank, Krieg again found himself idle. Krieg desired something more challenging, something that would test his metal, and as he scanned over the various help wanted posters one drew his attention.

"Hero of the Horde or Alliance, here this call.

A great darkness has shown, it's ugly head rearing to unleash a monstrosity known as Project Midnight.

Come, answer the call, take a rune and crush it in your palm, you will be transported here.

Glory awaits you! Light will Praise you!"

~Shinaria Sunblaze, The Holy Jailor~

After reading the missive, Krieg turned to his companion and queried him, “So what ye think ol boy? Kin ya handle it?” Now it was Swiftfeather’s turn to glare. Giving his rider a blustery snort, Krieg retrieved a small stone from the satchel posted on the board. Mounting Swiftfeather, Krieg crushed the small stone in his palm and watched as the city of Stormwind phased from existence.

In its place appeared a chilly a foreboding land. In the distance a stone fortress stood ominously against the misted and shrouded sky. In his immediate vicinity lay a wooded village with various large humanoid beings milling throughout it. From the markings and the stories he had heard about the north, he assumed that these were Vyrkul though he had never seen one in the flesh before.

A small gathering of races gathered at the base of this wooden village, one of them must be this shinara, she whom he must report too. Swiftly he unbuckled his straps and leapt from the shoulder of Swiftfeather. His feet sank some six inches into the fresh powdered snow The cold heightened his senses, made him feel refreshed and invigorated and so with great gusto he unlimbered his storm hammer from Swiftfeather and attached it to his back. Now prepared Krieg made his way towards the small group.

A trio of elves, stood side by side, speaking with a female whom was much larger than the rest, obviously a Vyrkul. Milling around in front of them were a pair of human, one covered in heavy plate, with seemed to glow unnaturally to his eyes, and another female, which by her earthly tones and leather armor, Krieg surmised was a ranger.

As the duo neared the group, Swiftfeather stood stalk straight and swung his head to the right scanning the tree ling intently. Krieg could see his friends hackles rise and his claws dig into the hard ground, something’s scent caught the Gryphons attention, though Krieg knew not what. Gently stroking Swift feather’s head, Krieg scanned the area but could not see anything, though he knew something must be out their. With an eerie feeling of being watched Krieg Swiflty closed the distance between himself and the group.

Coming to a stop but a handful of paces from the elves, The stout dwarfed announced his arrival. “Oye!” the Wildhammer dwarf spoke up cheerfully, trying to shake the feeling of unease from himself and his companion, “Krieg stormrider at yer service, what be we fightin’ ‘n such a desolate ‘n forbodin’ place?”

Opalaline sat at her desk, scribbling notes furiously into a journal from a large open tome beside her. It was a book on the Light, and she found it very interesting and informative indeed. Much more than that gala her mother had insisted the family go to. So Opalaline had stayed at home, and decided to spend her evening taking notes. However, it was early morning and the priestess had to finish quickly. She had to hide the book because she knew her mother would take it as punishment, and the book didn't belong to Opalaline. She was just borrowing it from a friend.

She stopped as she heard hawkstriders stopping in front of the house. Opalaline rose quietly from the chair and moved to the window. She peeked through the window around the curtain and saw that it was indeed her mother and stepfather. She backed away and hurried back to her desk. She rushed the last of her notes, which made her handwiting look even sloppier than before. She heard the front door open as she got to the last page. Her pen scrambled down the page, taking notes without even thinking about what she was writing. She finished just as her inkwell ran dry. She sent a quick puff of air over the last pages she had written and closed the journal. She looked frantically for a place to hide them as she heard footsteps going up the stairs. Finally she shoved them under her pillows just as her mother entered the room without knocking.

"Where have you been? I thought I made it clear that you would be attending the gala with your stepfather and I."

Opalaline opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, a knock came at the door. "Opalaline? Message for you."

Opalaline's mother looked confused as Opalaling took the letter with the attached parcel. She opened the letter and read the note through quickly.

Hero of the Horde or Alliance, here this call.

A great darkness has shown, it's ugly head rearing to unleash a monstrosity known as Project Midnight.

Come, answer the call, take a rune and crush it in your palm, you will be transported here.

Glory awaits you! Light will Praise you!"

~Shinaria Sunblaze, The Holy Jailor~

A smile crossed Opalaline's face. Perfect! She immediately raced to the other side of the room, grabbing her staff. Her mother watched in growing confusion as Opalaine grabbed her pack of supplies, which was always set up. She fastened her white cloak on and smiled. "Good bye mother." Then, with her pack on her shoulder, and her staff in one hand, she crushed the rune in the other hand.


Opalaline reappeared, and was immediately glad she brought her cloak. She seemed to be in Northrend, and Northrend was chilly. She looked arund, and saw an elf in Argent gear. Opalaline decided this must be the one who sent the call. She inclined her head and approached Shinaria. "My name is Opalaline Sunstone. I'm here to answer the call."
El'oana leaned back in the tavern chair. The warm food and wine at the inn were the first meal she hadn't caught herself in weeks. Arthas may have been defeated some time ago, but the Scourge survived. And where the Scourge survived, she had work to do. She allowed herself to sigh and almost smile in satisfaction. Some things, she had never appreciated before setting out. Warm meals, dry socks and a chance to leave her armor in her inn room amounted to a vacation at a Goblin Prince's pleasure palace for her.

Pulling herself out of her reverie, she scanned the inside of the tavern cautiously for trouble, more out of habit than expectation. A few farmers, a travelling goblin merchant- no doubt looking to sell some sort of mechanical contraption, and... a tap on her shoulder.

Her hand flew to her sword hilt by reflex and she nearly knocked herself off her stool whirling to face the source of her surprise. A sigh of relief as she recognized the face of a farmer she had helped earlier in the week. A bemused smile formed as she chastised herself mentally.

"Sorry to surprise you, Mistress Peregrine, but a crier came through town- on the way to Silvermoon with urgent work. You've tied things up well enough here that the Farstriders should be able to take care of us.. and it looked urgent. From the Argent Crusade". The elf smiled apologetically and handed her a scroll tube. Something rattled inside as she took it from his hand with a nod of thanks.

The Argent Crusade. She'd fought shoulder to shoulder with them, back in Northrend. By the Light, how she hated the cold. The bonechilling cold that seeped into her armor, chilling her feet and fingers first. Never being able to stop, stopping meant freezing. But the Argent Crusade needed help. She would not let them down.

She nodded again to the farmer and strode from the room without a further word, this message would best be read in the privacy of her room. The cap came off easily. A note and a small dark rune tumbled out.
"Hero of the Horde or Alliance, hear this call.

A great darkness has shown, it's ugly head rearing to unleash a monstrosity known as Project Midnight.

Come, answer the call, take a rune and crush it in your palm, you will be transported here.

Glory awaits you! Light will Praise you!"

~Shinaria Sunblaze, The Holy Jailor~
Project Midnight. What could that be? Some necromancer or warlock at work? She frowned. Whatever it was, it spoke of some deliberate malice. Created by men or elves. And asking for heroes of the Horde and Alliance? Criers heading to capital cities looking for adventurers? That spoke of desperation. And an invitation to treachery or sabotage from within. She would have to be wary.

With deliberate care she armored herself, hefted her pack, and crushed the small dark rune in the palm of her hand.

Purple and black whirled before her eyes and she felt the familiar nausea teleportation magic always gave her. When her eyes could show her more than nightmare wisps and tendrils, they focused on white snow underneath her feet. The wind howled around the hood of her cloak, biting her cheeks in a familiar way.

Northrend. Perfect, her feet had almost thawed from the last time.

A small crowd comprised of other Sin’Dorei, a goblin, and a dwarf were talking, milling around in front of a ruined keep. Well, this would be interesting.

She tightened her grip on her shield and strode deliberately on top of the packed snow towards the small group.

She called out when she reached them, "I am Peregrine, I trust all of you have answered the call as well? And the one who is the Holy Jailor will have some answers for us?". The corner of her lip turned up in a not-quite smile. She would be wary.

Arthien Dawnstrider walked through the bustling Bazaar of Silvermoon City, she moved quickly to complete her shopping as fast as possible and to get back to the quiet of the Sanctum.

"Ari, Ari, Ari, Ari, look at this Ari, Ari, Aaaaaarrrrrriiiiiii!!!" she stopped and turned around, not far from her near the Warchief's Command Board she had just passed stood a high elf. She was obviously young, her shoulder length red hair bounced with the rest of her as she pointed excitedly towards the board. "What is it Cana? I have little time for your mundane whims" She muttered disdain evident in her voice, the high elf stopped bouncing and look at her, feigning a hurt expression, however her shining mischievous eyes gave her away. "That's mean Ari, your never gonna get friends by being mean." "If I had need of 'friend'" Arthien responded, but she walked over to see what, Cana was fussing about.

Posted on the board was a note and a small bag attached to it
"Hero of the Horde or Alliance, here this call.

A great darkness has shown, it's ugly head rearing to unleash a monstrosity known as Project Midnight.

Come, answer the call, take a rune and crush it in your palm, you will be transported here.

Glory awaits you! Light will Praise you!"

~Shinaria Sunblaze, The Holy Jailor~

Arthien read the note relatively uninterested, as she reread it a faint smile began showing on her face "I know that smile, that's your 'I have an ulterior motive' smile" Cana said concern in her voice. "Anyone foolish enough to name a doomsday device 'project midnight' must certainly have some powerful artifacts at their disposal..." She stopped speaking, took a rune from the bag, turned and quickly began walking back towards the Sanctum the remainder of her shopping forgotten "So we're going?" Cana asked following behind her "We are not going anywhere I an going on this mission, and you are going back to whatever recess of my mind you insist on crawling out of." With that they spoke no more.

Arthien quickly packed a collection of necessary provisions and crushed the rune in her hand, instantly feeling the stomach lurching rush as she was teleported to where ever this mission was to begin. The crunch of snow and freezing cold met her as she landed at her destination, an educated guess told her this was Northrend, she looked around to see a large collection of people had already gathered many of her own kind, a large cat, which she assumed was a druid, a Dwarf, and three Draenei. She moved through the group holding her head high in a 'I'm superior to all of you' fashion she walked over to where three blood elves and a towering Vykrul stood "I assume one of you is the leader of this group? This 'Holy Jailor'" She asked trying her best to not have the word 'Holy' seeped with disgust.


Saelien Nightmist strolled through Darnassus on her daily walk, she enjoyed watching the whisps float around the trees, without a care in the world, she enjoyed the calm and serene water, and the overall peaceful tranquility of the city. She walked by the bank after circling the Tradesman Terrace, when she saw a Sentinel posting a new notice on the Call Board, curious Saelien walked over to investigate it was a small note with a bag of runes attached, still curious she read the note:

"Hero of the Horde or Alliance, here this call.

A great darkness has shown, it's ugly head rearing to unleash a monstrosity known as Project Midnight.

Come, answer the call, take a rune and crush it in your palm, you will be transported here.

Glory awaits you! Light will Praise you!"

~Shinaria Sunblaze, The Holy Jailor~

“Project Midnight...that does not sound good.” Saelien muttered, while this was likely a job more suited for a Ligh-Weilder, she still wanted to help I have been training to help protect this world, perhaps it is time to put my training to a test she thought reaching into the small bag and pulling out a rune, she quickly went about preparing placing a assortment of cooking ingredients, leather, and a small collection of other miscellaneous items into her satchel, before crushing the rune in her hand and was teleported away.

A gust of cold wind greeted her as she landed, she was in Northrend, she had only visited the Continent a few time to aid the Cenarion Expedition, in protecting the local wildlife, and every time it was bitterly cold, luckily her thick leather robes kept much of the wind from chilling her. Saelien examined her surroundings, the first thing she noticed was the large ruined castle in front of her, likely were they were to be meeting, next she saw a medium sized group of people had formed, mostly of Blood elves, but a Dwarf and a few Draenei gave a small Alliance presence, last thing she noticed was a large cat seeming to keep its distance from the rest, from the distance she could barely make out sever tattoos on the animal's fur, duidic tattoos Good perhaps he is a member of the Circle. she thought deciding to make her way over to him.

“E-excuse me.” she stammered He's a fellow druid there's no need to be nervous. she told herself “You would happen to know where the leader of this group happens to be would you?” She asked the cat.

Sammuroth watched the group as it increased in size, if something was going to happen, I would think it would have happened by now. He was still wary though, he held no particular hatred towards any of the races, but he was still understandably wary around his distant kin, he knew as well as all Kal'dorei that the Blood Elves were ancestors to his distant kin the High Borne. Whether good or bad in his experience the Blood Elves wanted the same thing their ancestors did ten thousand years ago, and that thing was power. He was sure there were some good people among the Blood Elves, but he wasn't about to let his guard down. The druid was so focused keeping an eye on the gathering group that he did not notice the footsteps as they approached him. The voice was so near that it almost caused him to jump out of his fur, he regained his composure rather quickly, turning to the owner of the voice.

Before him stood a young Night Elf, and judging by her clothing a druid, she could not have seen over four hundred years of life, making her younger than Lori. What was such a young druid doing out here, he knew better though than to judge a book by it's cover, he could tell she already possessed a good amount of power. She seemed to be slightly nervous though she attempted to hide this fact, and that made the cat smile, "Forgive my reaction, your appearance startled me a bit. To answer your question I would hazard a guess that the Sin'dorei wearing the garb of the Argent Crusade was the one that sent the summons. Whether she is actually the one in charge I cannot say, now that I have answered your question perhaps you would permit me to ask one of my own? I hope you do not take this the wrong way, for I mean no disrespect, but what is such a young druid doing coming to such a dangerous place?"
Orgrimmar. A place he could not stand to be in for long. It used to be because of the heat, the invasive dust, the general smell of orc peons being unable to bath well enough to not reek. But then Garrosh Hellscream became Warchief, and with him a change that he could not stomach. He used to be welcome here, but now, the orcs dismissed him as another weak being in their city. Their mistake.

Rhaluzzian Eclipse wasn't there for the Horde, he was there to raid one of his many personal caches scattered all over the world. He wanted to move a few valuables out of Orgrimmar to his newest haunt in Pandaria. He entered the city via the air, bailing off his air rental wyvern and paraglided into the Valley of Honor. It wasn't uncommon anymore, so he was relatively unnoticed.

Stowing his glider pack he began weaving his way through the throngs of Horde citizenry toward the bank. He stopped by the Warchief's Command Board after being nearly trampled by a kodo, trying to knock off the excess dust from his silken robes and happened to spot something. An insignia on a letterhead he had not seen in years. Which was sad, as he rather enjoyed working with the Argent Crusade. He paused to read the letter, read it again, noting the small bag hanging with it.

Well, this was certianly interesting. A change from working in Pandaria, though Northrend was host to alot of memories. Not all of them good. He was strong though, he had to have been to survive. He reached into the bag and retracted his hand with a small runed tablet. He gazed at it, studying it, comparing it to other memories. Gingerly pocketing it, he turned from the board to march to the bank. He proceeded to withdraw his winter gear, transfering his Pandaren robes in the place of the robes he 'appropriated' from the Scourge.

He even grabbed the old toolbox, smaller than his current, but still held his tools, a few seaforium charges, and some old saronite scrapbots he had forgotten about. He wasn't sure the five of them worked, but maybe they would be unneccessary. For peace of mind's sake. With all the gear he could take from the bank, he left the bank, retreating to the shade of the side of the building before he took the rune and crushed it in the palm of his hand.

Enveloped by the contained magic, he stood still, weathering the ringing in his ears as the world materialized around him. Cold breeze, a ruin before him, yes, this was Northrend. he looked around and spied a group of people not far off. Immediately on his guard, his gaze narrowed noting alot of draenei, meaning it was an Alliance operation by looks.

'Do I talk my way out of this, or fight my way out,' he thought, keeping his flank to the group for the moment.
Payton and Cobe

Payton Lexington walked into the Stormwind Guard's base of operations, there, Cobe Natrix was reading a piece of parchment listing the new bunch of criminals that were being jailed in the Stockades below Stormwind. He shrugged it off and looked up at Payton. Payton shrugged back at him as he handed him a two runes that he had picked up at the Hero's Call Board.

"Seems like something fun, huh?" Payton spoke finally. Natrix took the runes and shook his head at his friend, "Ehh, we aren't heroes, Payton, we're guards...not adventurers." Lexington chuckled at him, "What do you mean we aren't heroes? We stop crime in the city almost every week! Its time we go out into the world and help solve worldly problems."

Cobe sighed and had a blank expression. "Suppose we do go, what happens if the tasks we get are too dangerous and you want to leave? It'd be a big waste of time, also, it means we'd leave the city. Who knows what crimes could happen while we're gone 'saving the world'?" Lexington put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Please, Cobe, I'm going...but it'd mean the world to me, if you'd come along." Natrix groaned and finally submitted. "Fine, let's get going. I'll let the chief know when we are there." He put an ear piece in along with a mic that was apart of the earpiece. Payton did the same to keep in contact with his friend.

The two men took a rune and crushed it. They noticed a magical dust surround them and teleport them to Northrend. They both felt a cold breeze hit their skin, that was revealed from their armor. They looked around to see some heroes to their far left and far right. Cobe noticed both Alliance and Horde members were here, he sighed heavily, not liking the thought of the Horde being here. Payton didn't mind much. The two humans walked casually closer to the Alliance grouping rather than the Horde one.
Agent Abroad, rather odd title to have, but it did allow him free movement where ever he wanted to go. Or felt the urge to kill fleshy things. Catastrokon was smart enough to avoid making trouble though. No Scourge-like rampages, just killing things that ended up with bounties on their heads. But there was no killing to do today, only the forge. One of the many forges in Acherus was alight with sparks as the death knight worked pieces of ghost iron into a a plate for a generic chest plate.

Being an Agent Abroad for the Ebon Hold didn't mean unlimited money to move about. The Ebon Hold was very poor, so each death knight had to make their own money. Making armor and weapons was how Catastrokon made his money. And he made enough to keep his weapons sharp and armor strong. And keep his geist entertained long enough to work. The current was Tombclimber, it said once, and did seem to enjoy climbing. And hanging from things, which could be distracting.

But after a few hours, Catastrokon was done. Done making armor pieces to sell and done dealing with the bored geist. Packing everything, his runed sword and axe he took a skeletal gryphon all the way to Stormwind. Hours with howling wind and the restless geist wore down his patience by the time he landed in Stormwind. Hefting the pack onto his shoulder and dragging the geist roughly, he headed straight for the Stormwind auction house.

It was busy, as usual, but death knights got a little wider berth than others, and were rarely obstructed. He put his wares up for auction quickly, hung his axe on his belt and carried his sword out over his shoulder. One thing taken care of. Perhaps he would take the geist for a walk, that might settle it down. He had stopped checking the King's little bulletin boards, they were boring years ago, but occasionally something amusing would catch his eye. Steering the geist down toward the King's Command Board, he stopped and shifted his weight accross his hooves, looking over the various notes, old and new.

Most were typical king worshiping nonsense, kill his enemies, kill the Horde, all the the ficticious glory of the Alliance. What wasted effort. But then he spotted something in the corner, something he was reminded of somewhat frequently. The insignia of the Argent Crusade. He worked with them, pounding their way through Icecrown, all the way up to the Citadel itself. He knew they were busy with the Plaguelands these days, so what did they need outside help with?

Leaning in to read the letter carefully, he stepped back, stroking his manicured beard as he thought. he had recently been in Pandaria, finding it's residents a little too soft for his liking. Maybe a trip in Northrend would allow him to vent a little frustration. He spotted the bag and fished one of the rune tablets from it. From the looks of it, it might be a vykrul rune, the color of a death rune. Following the instructions, he crushed it and Stormwind was replaced with the familiar cold.

Lowering the sword from his shoulder, he spotted other death knights first, along with a priestess and maybe a druid. Then to his other side, another elven figure. Dark robes, sword on his back. Familiar. But for now, play like he did not know him. He looked back the group and walked toward them, geist hanging from his left arm, sword over his right shoulder.

"I suppose this is where we begin to stop this, 'Project Midnight.' What is our next step?"
As Gizzle rode through the city, Gizmo kept telling him about all the riches he could make with his rune. "..And a pool, and women, and a mansion.." Gizzle tried to keep the nonsense of his robot companion out of his head, focusing on getting the engine to the customer and retrieving his gold. After about five minutes, he was being driven insane, "SHUT UP!" He yelled as he crashed into a wall in the city. Gizzle and Gizmo sneaked past the guards all the way back to their house. As Gizzle walked in, the rune slipped and fell into his mech, 'The Kiss-!@# 3000'. As he climbed in to retrieve it, he accidently turned on the mech, causing him to fall into the driver's seat. After shaking off the fall, he grabbed the rune, crushing it on accident. "Not much of a valuable...what a waste." He shrugged, not knowing what happened to him as he and the mech both teleported to the destination the others went.
" the Old Gods." A man has just woken up in a dark room. He tries to stand up but quickly discovers he is retrained to the table. The man hears a door open and something enter the room. He starts hyperventilating in fear, as he cannot see anything past the table. Suddenly, the foot steps stop and he can hear the distinct sound of a man chuckling to himself. Then a face quickly appears out of the darkness. It appears to be....some kind of elf wearing a nurses mask and a pair of goggles, totally concealing his face. The elf steps closer to him, wearing a blood stained doctors gown, and inspecting him.

"Hmmm....oh yes I think I know just what to do with you." He said with a evil giggle at the end. He disappeared into the darkness once again then quickly came back holding a syringe filled with green liquid. "This here, you Twilight Cultist mutt, is a vial of pure plague. This particular strain of plague will make you suffer excruciating amounts of pain. Yet not die. Now please do scream, im actually making all of my victims screams into a song. So far....we haven't found that right voice. No back to business." The elf smiled evilly behind his mask then jabbed the needle into the mans neck. The cultist immediately started screaming and begging for the pain to stop. The elf merely strolled back into the darkness and watched the man suffering with joy in his eye. Suddenly the door behind him swung open and in the light was one of his sisters in death. "Lady Alistra, a pleasure. Care to join me?" The Death Knight scowled at him then entered the room.
"Lineron, your sister has arrived. I have come to relieve you of this.....wretch." Lineron rolled his eyes at her.
"Oh, just have one of the initiates do it. The new generation must learn a thing or two about how to torture people anyway." Lineron placed his hands on his hips then frowned at his sister in death.

"Shut up and just go. Your sister is asking for you. She is in the lower levels watching the initiates." Alistra strolled over to a tray next to Lineron that had a array of torture tools on it and she picked up a bone saw. "Now then....scream." She quickly started to saw off the mans leg off with him screaming in even more pain. Lineron chuckled then walked out of the room to go see his sister.

"Eh, boss. When your brother gonna show up?" Daenith's imp Jaktip asked. Daenith was reading into a book entitled 'Undeath: How to deal with it' with the last few pages of the book being ways on how to kill yourself quickly and efficiently.
"He better get her soon or I will personally go up there and drag him out of whatever torture chamber he is in." Immediately after she said then she heard a sigh and looked to see her brother wearing a nurses outfit. "Do I even want to know?" Lineron rolled his eyes then sat next to his sister.

"I was working. What did you want ,sis?" Daenith handed him a folded up piece of paper from her pocket then went back to her book. Lineron read it intently then raised a eyebrow interest. "What do you think this 'Project Midnight' is? if its has something to do with the shadows then I am so in." Daenith shrugged then closed her book and stared at her brother.
"I don't know nor care. But we are going. I thought it would be a good chance for us to catch up. Seeing as we haven't had time to talk sense I found out you and Carinoth are alive." Lineron chuckled then patted Daenith on the shoulder.
"I would like that very much. Besides torturing Twilight cultists is boring now. They keep on screaming that the old gods will save them. It gets old after awhile. So how will we get there?" Daenith pulled out two rune stones and gave one to her brother.

((Part 1 of 2))

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