A Brave New World (In Character, Closed)

World’s End Tavern: Role-play and Fan Fiction
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Poachers threw grappling hooks around the druids, who were unable to shake them in their bulky animal forms. From there, either a poacher’s arrow or a zealot’s axe could finish them.

Overlord Nuuar slammed his mace across another Cat druid’s face, killing it instantly. Off to the distance he heard shouting and chanting. He saw Kolphis, he held his spear, purple with the blood of Elves, high in the air, at its top was what Nuuar initially perceived as an Elven head. Upon closer inspection, Nuuar noticed the antlers, and his heart swelled. “Glory to the aspects!” he chanted, almost instinctively before turning to face a druid in Moonkin form.

Glory to the aspects reverberated across the battlefield, warriors of the caliphate began to chant it as they looked up to see the head of a demigod, paraded around by their glorious leader. The druids almost lost their will to fight upon seeing it, they did not flee but they didn’t try to win either, not that they ever could. The battle was over in short order, Kolphis, nearly purple now in the blood of Elves screamed almost incoherently, he had become lost to bloodlust after killing the keeper. Him and the rest of the army.

Draaca however, while ecstatic over killing the Druid’s false god, still knew her duties. Saving Kolphis left a rotten taste in her mouth, perhaps making a few converts would cheer her up. The army advanced into Evergrove proper, the caliphate had no use for the demolishers, so it was still very much intact. Draaca could almost smell the fear radiating from the groups of citizens, huddling in the Elven homes. Of to the distance, Draaca saw Kolphis and a group of Zealots jumping into the local moonwell, drinking it, and dirtying it with the blood they were covered in.

Draaca ordered her Acolytes to gather up the enemy survivors. She noticed that there were noticeably fewer acolytes than before the battle, survival of the fittest she supposed. The survivors were sat down in a large group, a line of Zealots surrounded them, they were about two hundred in number. Most of them looked down in shame or fear, these were the ones who had not fought with their brothers, they had weakness in their souls, this Draaca could use.

“You have shamed the Aspects in your practice here.” Draaca said, “You have worshipped false Gods, a God that is now dead.” Draaca pointed at Kolphis, basking in the moonwell , still carrying the Keeper of the Grove’s head high in the air. “Your sacred sights are desecrated, your God is dead. And you are cowards.” her voice was smooth yet resolute. The survivors stirred and whispered in protest, a Zealot busted on across his face with the hilt of his axe, and the clamoring stopped. “Why then, would lord Neltharion take you in? What would make you worthy enough? The blood spilled because of your sin, must be repaid in blood given freely to the Aspects.”

The survivors began to stir once again, railing against their captors, the Zealots did not mind, they battered them into submission, they pulled people away from the main group, until there several groups of two surrounding the main group. “Now you will fight, to the death. Those who do not fight do not have to. Those that do, and survive, can remain here, in their home, under the rule of the caliphate.”

These were not the brave defenders, thought Draaca, these were the cowards, the civilians, they would fight, these were the type who would do anything to preserve their existence. In battlegrounds bordered by Zealots and Poachers, survivors fought, to the death, sometimes one of them wouldn’t fight, the other one however usually would, brother fought brother, friend against friend. There were sometimes a group of two who would not fight each other, both of them were killed. A few Tauren were among the survivors, most of them ended up surviving.

When the battles ended, only half of the original number remained, perhaps less. They were coated in the blood of their kinsmen, they had killed their own with their bare hands. Draaca could see it in their eyes, they had been broken. She could feel the hopelessness that now consumed them. It was in despair that the Wyrmcult grew. Draaca made good on her word, and allowed the survivors to live. They were given food and taken to the houses they used to occupy, under the watch of a Zealot of course. Draaca’s eyes were now fixed back to the west, to her home, where a Dragon egg that could change everything sat alone, hidden in her room.

Off in the distance, smoke billowed from the fire slowly consuming the Ruuan Weald.


Nation Info:

Evergrove has been conquered by the Wyrmscale Caliphate. 100 population added to the Caliphate.


Zealot: -50
Acolyte: -10
Poacher: -20

Fire is now consuming the Ruuan Weald, a result of misused magic.
Battle Results

Assault on Coilskar- Initial reports mistaken, only around twenty Naga remained. Wiped out with ease. Water will now be easily accessible. Troops return time-1 turn.

Purging of Sketh'lon-Priests purge ghosts from afar. Remaining woodland now available for cutting.

Assault on Cataclysm-The few remaining technicians offer little resistance, and any orcs defect. Last technician begins work on bringing Fel Reaver Sentries back online-1 Turn
Warlocks begin to animate infernals-3 Turns. +25 infernals per turn, total infernals earned will be 75 unless interrupted. Footmen have already returned. Warlocks will remain behind.
((I'm going to lose a !@#$ ton at Legion Hold :( ))
Fel Iron strike- Delivered back to Spire. Human footmen now use Fel Iron weapons.

Quarry expansion-1 post until completion.
Spire creation-2 posts until completion. If assault upon Legion Hold is successful, upper floors will be outfitted with Fel Cannons.
Emissaries dispatched to Mag'har, Ogres, Azerothian Orcs-3 turns to complete. Boulderfist ogre refugees have been found and directed back to Death's Spire. March time of 2 turns.
Blight Birds-The Highlord has commissioned the Grand Spymaster to begin turning birds into undead, allowing the Highlord to see through their eyes. Birds will be used for spying purposes, and will be considered non-combatants in the unit page. 2 turns until completion, total birds will number 26:2 in Shadowmoon Valley
5 in Hellfire Peninsula
4 in Terrokar Forest
3 in Zangarmarsh
4 in Blade's End Mountain
4 in Netherstorm
4 in reserve
+400 Humans
+400 Trolls
+160 Fel Orcs

+12 Fel Orc axemen. Total number-512.
+12 Fel Orc beserkers. Total number-112

+50 Human footmen. Total number-950
+30 Human necromancers. Total number-50
+20 Human Priests. Total number-40

+50 Troll footmen. Total number-950
+10 Troll druids. Total number-30
+40 Troll archers. Total number-80

((Will make an actual post later.))
Dispatch written to Chancellor Tarquin by Lord General Jaeger

Ango'Rosh campaign has successfully concluded. Commander of Horde forces, an orc named Warlord Bhal'Dan, survived and was taken prisoner. After a period of negotiation, it was agreed that the Draenic Horde would continue to exist as a protectorate state under the auspices of the Republic of Man. Bhal'Dan will rule. In exchange for our aid in terraforming their land, they will allow free trade between our people. The Draenor Protectorate is permitted to keep a force of five hundred Grunts, seventy-five Juggernauts, fifty Raiders, and fifty Rangers for territory defense. Bhal'Dan has strenuously denied the existence of something called GADGET and I see no reason to press him on the matter. 300 Hoplites and 50 Dragoons will be stationed in the Protectorate for defense and to ensure that there are no treaty violations. The army is returning home as we speak.

Zangarmarsh/Hellfire Border

The commander of the Dragoon contingent cursed softly as she watched the Imperial column marching in the direction her Dragoons had been a couple of days ago. It was absolutely essential that they reach the Republic with the detailed information they had gathered, although Connor supposed that her troops had been luckier than she had a right to expect: they had managed to get a few of their people inside of Oshu'Mogan, and the information they had collected before returning would be very useful to the Republics intelligence analysts. Still, being stranded on the border of Hellfire and Zangarmarsh with one of those odd double-battalions -the Black Legion called them regiments- closing in on them was hardly the most enjoyable experience. The Commander wormed her way back out of the undergrowth and quickly returned to the spot her Dragoons were holed up in. Using a set of hand signals, she called her command staff in and unrolled a map of the eastern coast of the Inland Sea.

"Right, here's where we are now." she said in a low voice, gesturing to the northern mountain range that bisected Zangarmarsh and the Hellfire Penninsula. "The Black Legion regiment is headed away from us right now, and we're going to keep it that way as long as we can. Now, I got a messenger bird from Admiral Tarquin, and the rendezvous site has been changed. The Black Empire is setting up a port city way too close to the original RV site for comfort. The new point is just east of the old sunken Telredor ruins. It'll take us about three days to reach there, which is good, because an absolute sh*t-ton of Marines will be arriving there in about three days." One of her command staff raised a furred paw. "Yes?"

"How many is an absolute sh*t-ton?"

"About six hundred, plus and extra hundred Dragoons. We'll join up with them and end up under the combined command of Commander Tarquin."

"Did you say..."

"Yes. Commander Tarquin. As in, the Marine officer." A low, collective groan circulated through the command staff. "Come on, let's get ready to get going. We'll move towards the RV at as fast a pace as we can manage and hope to outrun any Black Legion regiments that get alerted to our passing by. You have your orders, so let's go."

Zangarmarsh, Outpost Koresnagi

Tarquin shaded his eyes and looked up at the sky. In the three days since his men had attempted to intercept the Night Elf patrol, they had set up a hasty series of berms and trenches, creating a small fort in the middle of a large clearing. The mushrooms that had been chopped down to make that clearing were piled up inside the fort, and a Marine work party was sawing them down to use as building material.

There were seven dots overhead on a heading that would put them right over the fort. The Commander gestured to a nearby Marine, and the dwarf rushed off to find the corporal. Less than a minute later, the corporal ran up, red-faced and panting from heat and exertion: from his clothing, he had been part of the work detail.

"Voice amplifier spell, corporal. After that, get the shamans." Tarquin requested in clipped tones. The Marine nodded and obliged, and a moment later the Commander's voice boomed out to the approaching Night Elves. "This is Commander Tarquin of the Republic of Man. As I have already told your other patrol, this is the sovereign territory of the Republic. If you are of peaceful intent, you will be permitted to land in front of the gates and state your business. If not, leave immediately or perish."
Forge Camp: Terror

A circle of the try, dusty earth began to crumble and vibrate. Nearby wildlife ran away as fast as their limbs could carry them, the first signs of activity that the long-abandoned Forge Camp had seen in years. The circle caved inward just as five hissing, snapping Jormungandr worms burst out of the ground with thick cables trailing from their harnesses. These were the largest and toughest of the original mining brood, and they had survived where others had not. While not yet the size of the older Jormungandr worms of Northrend, they were still a formidable threat to anyone or anything foolish enough to attack. The cables jerked, and with another hiss, the Jormungandr burrowed back into the ground.

All was quite for a few hours more, and the more adventurous critters had begun to venture back towards the area outside the forge camp when, with a thunderous, rolling burst, a giant plume of smoke and dust billowed into the air. Chunks of rock and gravel pattered down, though anything larger than a human had been pulverized in the blast. When the dust cleared at last, a gaping hole was carved into the earth connected to a tunnel that continued down and down into blackness. A group of workers walked out of the hole and onto the surface; it was the first time many of the workers had seen sunlight in weeks. A column of Hoplites streamed up past them and moved quickly to secure the Forge Camp. The director of Project Joruus walked out of the hole and beside his men, put his hands on his hips, and proudly surveyed the tableau before him.

"Men, excellent work. Against all odds, we kept to our schedule and reached Forge Camp: Terror on time. As a result, you'll all be receiving a little something extra once this project is done. A small token of my thanks." The director clapped one of the nearby workers on the shoulder, raising a small cloud of dust. "Well done indeed! Now, someone send that messenger bird back to the Chancellor so he can get the Minister of Science up here."

Turn summary


Forge Camp: Terror
A tunnel has been bored from the Western part of the Blade's Edge Mountains in Helmand province up to Forge Camp: Terror.
Reward: Access to Forge Camp: Terror. 200 Hoplites have been stationed there.

200 Dragoons have landed near the Cenarion refuge and are scouting the Hellfire Penninsula, with the intention of finding the current location of the "Black Legion". They are now running for the panned site of Thanagor Gorum

The Draenic Horde has become a protectorate of the Republic of Man.

In Progress;

Forge Camp: Terror
Minister of Science Edward Chard is reactivating the Forge Camp. (4 turns to completion)
Reward: Access to a reactivated Forge Camp

Eastern Zangarmarsh
Colonization and Terraforming of Dracon Province has begun! The new territory will encompass the eastern entrance to the Blade's Edge mountains, hug the coast before cutting east to the former location of Swamprat Post, and the entire Dead Mire. Thanagor Gorum, the new provincial capital and port city, will sit on the coast nearest to the sunken ruins of Telredor. (4 turns to the completion of Thanagor Gorum, 2 more until the province itself is appropriately terraformed)

Shattrath City
An ambassador has been dispatched to open up trade routes with Shattrath City.

600 Marines, 100 Dragoons, and 10 Scorpions have been dispatched to guard the 10,000 colonists.

100 Marines have begun to fortify the eastern tunnel. (1 turn to completion)

Training of the first Proto-Drake Squadron has begun (3 turns to completion: Reward; 10 Proto-Drakes and riders)
Smoke arose from Forge Base Obivion, which, like most other Forge Camps, had been deserted for many years. Yet that would change in a few minutes for this particular base due to the army marching down from the North. The shaking came first, which would have caused any wildlife to flee if there was any. A few minutes later, a legion of 500 soldiers accompanied by 20 Fel Reavers marched into the Forge Base.

Immediately the soldiers fanned out across the area, securing Oblivion in about 30 minutes. While the Legionaries finished making sure the perimeters were secure, a group of infantryman began to set up camp. The whole army would only stay for a day to rest, after which 100 men would be left to hold the Base while the rest of the army continued to the Manaforge.

That was how everything was supposed to happen, until one of the army's advance scouts arrived from farther South. He rode into the camp on a cavalry raptor, immediately demanding to see the commander. As soon as he got the chance, he began spewing the latest news about the manaforge.

“Sir, from what I've seen, our reports were completely wrong,” the scout began. “The manaforge is overrun with ethereals.”

“Do you think we could take them?” the commander asked.

“Not a chance in the slightest,” the scout explained. “There are thousands of them, and with most of our battle-mages being Ethereals, I don't know if they would stay with us.”

“I see,” the commander remarked. “We can't return to Avarrack with only the Forge Base, and we can't defeat the forces at the manaforge, so I suppose we'll have to try diplomacy. Go tell the generals to pick anybody who could be suited as a diplomat and to mobilize the chosen 400 troops for a show of force.”

“Yes sir,” The scout responded as he hurried out of the commander's tent.
Cargash stood at the Covenant airfield as the Hyperion came into view. In a few minutes the ship had pulled up to the docks overlooking the Twisting Nether and the 25 crewmen began to climb off. As the captain disembarked, Cargath spoke to her.

“So, I take it the landing was a success?” he asked.

“A perfect success,” Aleyra replied. “There was nobody at the portal but a few small animals and the ridge overlooking Nagrand provides perfect natural cover. The Forge Camps were destroyed to prevent enemy use.”

“Excellent,” Cargath remarked. “Now that I know the Ridge is secure, can you tell me which Nether Ray unit is the fastest?”

“Unit 1 of course,” she responded.

“Very good,” he remarked. “Now then Aleyra, would you tell five of the riders in Unit 1 that I will be replacing them with our best Ethereal scientists and the others will escort them to Ridge? Assure the five giving up their mounts that it is only temporary.”

“Yes sir,” she dutifully replied. “Do you have any other mission for the Hyperion?”

“Not yet Captain,” He responded as he turned away to gather the scientists. “Not yet.”

A few weeks after the Mass Exodus of Azeroth

Deep inside the Palace’s halls, a battle was being waged. Not of mortals, but of ethereals. Four figures stood in the room: Nexus-King Jahir, his son, Nexus-Prince Balaah, Balhazar, the master of trade and coin, and the one they call thaumaturge, Abaash. The four leaders stood around a holographic image of Outlands, staring intensely at footage of the mortal races, pouring in from the Dark Portal.

Jahir had been the first to break the silence, “This cannot stand. The mortal races will soon be at our doorstep at the rate they are migrating. Netherstorm will no longer be ours.” Despite his face only being bandages, Jahir’s anger was translating well across the room. Balhazar, just a bit fatter than those around him, strode forward to the hologram and flipped the image.

A picture of mana-deadly radiation clouds could be seen in the distance. “This image was provided by our brothers in Stormwind. They have fled through dimension gates, but this war is clearly a direct result Talbadaz’s incompetency. We must make an effort to not repeat his mistakes, my liege.”

Jahir nodded his head in approval. “I agree. The mortal races clearly cannot handle weapons above tier 3. To ensure our safety and this land’s safety, the hands of mortals must not be exposed to such advanced technology. Abaash, I want every record tier 3 technology to be locked away in our vaults; absolutely no one except for us four are allowed within it.”

“In addition, I am not partial to share our lands with neighbors. Abaash, my son, I entrust you with patrolling our borders. I imagine some of the elves may try to reclaim the Tempest Keep. Do not allow this to happen. Do I make myself clear?” There was a sense of dissatisfaction and disappointment in Jahir’s voice as he said that. The Prince stood at salute. “Yes father.”

“Good. Then as King of the Netherstorm Trade Confederacy, I hereby issue the Edict of Sustainability: Absolutely no mortal race is to possess nor have knowledge of construction of tier 3 weapons. Let it be known throughout the realm and world."

Present Day

To think, only years ago, I thought I could stop the incursion of vermin into Netherstorm. His son has failed like had expected. However, the ethereals were not a militant group, and thus the general had to be a symbol of the people; a landmark of hope for the warriors. And his incompetent son was the only thing that fulfilled those requirements.

Yet despite this, Jahir had forgotten his purpose in coming to Netherstorm. It was not to rule the world no. Rather, it was to make a profit. The companies that were part of the Confederacy had been growing rather large, and most maintained large monopolies on certain goods. The District of Wealth, previously called Area 52, was often packed with ethereal tycoons and finance workers, trying to strike it rich on stocks or investments. And this lost of purpose had been an awakening call to Jahir. No longer would the ethereals halt advancement of mortal races into
Netherstorm. Any nation who tried to fight back would find themselves under the full force of a Nexus-Army. No instead, the nation should focus on trade and profit. The Confederacy had every intention of making a profit, and Jahir was dedicated to keeping that promise.

So Jahir had called all of his loyal officers to the Royal Court. The energy of B’naar flowed through the walls, and purple crystals lit the extravagant and beautiful halls. Below the Royal court, a manaforge was churning out gigantic amounts of energy, fueling the city’s power and jobs.

“Let’s get straight to business. It is time that we open up trade with new mortal nations. Our drones have scanned the entirety of Outland, and have reported several nations that have spiked my interest. They would be priceless trade partners, and would allow us to pull out of this...stagnation our economy has been seeing lately.” At the mention of the economy, the energy in the room had died a little, as if a black hole had sucked the confidence from the ethereals.

“First, let us start off with our partners to the north and northeast. Both are blood elf nations. I want two ambassadors to be sent to their doorsteps with new contracts, ensuring that they will answer to the laws of the Confederacy. Balhazar, I trust you with this task.” Balhazar bowed, his flamboyant clothing inhibiting him from bending all the way down. The room was humming with energy once again, literally and figuratively.

“In addition, Balaah,” the energy died a bit, “I want you to lead an army of one thousand to conquer the Ecodome Midrealm and deliver the Consortium an ultimatum to either join us or go back to the Nether. They’ve had it coming for the past year, and I have given them generous time to pack. Make them know who the real elites of the Ethereal economy are.” Balaah nodded nervously and Jahir returned his gaze to the Balhazar.

“Good work today men. Let’s break for lunch.”

Capital: 100,000 credits (if goes below 0, the economy goes bankrupt and the operations in Netherstorm no longer becomes favorable)
Growth rate per capita: 9.75% per post (3.25-Manaforges)
Imports: N/A
Exports: N/A
Growth Cycle:

More units added. 4% Growth.

200 Darkblads

100 Demon hunters

100 Shadowmages

100 Illdari Warlocks

100 Nethermancers

200 Dark Oracles

100 Void Lords.

20 (NEW!) Nether Skyblades.


Battle of Wildhammer Stronghold.

Gyphons fell from the sky, dead and bloody. Warriors and defenders fell under the might of the Illdari. A dwarven commander stood defiantly against the invaders, his hammer swinging and battering away any Darkblade or Construct that dare get close to him. Alizar slowly approached, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his eyes filled with amusement as he stopped in front of the commander "You cannot win this fight, Dwarf, lower your arms and we shall provide you a quick and painless death...."

The Dwarf caught sight of him and growled. No words were needed for Alizar to understand his answer as the commander roared and leaped into the air to slam his hammer upon his head. Murmuring a few words under his breath, Alizar shot out his hand and blasted the Dwarf back into a near by wall. "Had enough?" He said as he approached, noticing the Dwarf still moving "Obviously not..."

Raising his hand again, shadow swirled around it. And with a quickly dark purple flash...he ended the Commanders life.


Dran stood upon a pile of bodies of all the inhabitants that had lived in the Wildhammer Stronghold, his glaive raised as he spoke to those present "Illdari...today we have won a glorious battle...we shall turn this into our forward outpost and fortify it...soon enough, we shall strike at Legion's Hold, were we shall conquer and destroy the demons that reside there. Once we do that...we can safely say that the illdari have completed their foot hold in Shadowmoon once more!"

He pointed outside the Stronghold, soldiers turning to look. Two large Void Reapers slowly stomped their way towards Legion hold, their cries loud and terrifying. Above them were around 15 Nether Drakes, all with riders, which followed the Void Reapers to assist with the taking of Legion's Hold. "Look now, the might Lady Krystala has given us. Thanks to her, we've manage to survive, thanks to her, we thrive! The Illdari has been reborn..and soon, all of Outland...and soon....all of Azeroth...will LEARN to fear it's name!"

"For the Illdari!"


While the Illdari soldiers cheered, Alizar approached the Demon Hunter "I have good news....the Nether Drake research is complete. If you haven't already see by now." Dran 'looked' at Alizar, a smirk spreading across his face "Lady Krystala would certainly be pleased with our efforts, don't you agree?"

Alizar returned his smirk "Indeed...however...we might not be as alone in Shadowmoon Vally as we originally thought." The Sin'dorei Demon hunter turned, a brow raised in curiosity "I remember you mentioning another small nation here, one that had taken up residence in Shadowmoon Village. You mean them?"

"Yes, them." Alizar looked on as the Void Reapers walked on towards the Hold "I'm not sure if they are going to be hostile to our efforts or welcoming...or perhaps...even both. I suggest getting as much protection around the Death Forge as we can in case. In the mean time...I'm going to continue to do a little research on the Hand of Gul'dan."

"What for?" Dran said, 'looking' away to 'watch' the soldiers below him. "There might be something about it Krystala will see useful...though other than that, it could just be a volcano that spews out fel. Again, more research will have to be done. Make sure you clean up after yourself here...OH! before I forget. Warden's Cage and the Alter of Sha'Tar are finished fortifications and ready for use."

"Excellent.." The Demon Hunter murmured "I shall send word to Krystala when I am able."


Krystala and Co.

The Fel Tank came to a stop at the boarder of Tekkor into Zagramarsh. It was obvious thanks to the sight of large mushrooms in the distance and smaller mushrooms that began to litter the sides of the roads. Krystala woke sitting up to look at the horizon ahead of her "Zagramarsh...good, we are making progress. Let's not stop here, keep moving!" With her command, the Fel tanks began to move once more, crossing the boarder and taking an off road route North to their destination rather than the bridge...for it'd probably break under the Tank's weight.

Mira approached, sitting down beside Krystala and spoke "Lady Krystala, I've gotten news that everything in Shadowmoon goes well. We've taken the Death Forge, Illdari Point, Sanctum of the Stars, and even the Wildhammer Strong hold. Fortifications to Warden's Cage, Alter of Sha'Tar and the Dragonmaw Fortress have also been complete. Along with that, we've finished our research on the Nether Drakes, and have trained 15 new riders so far."

Krystala listened carefully to the Oracle's words. Everything was going well, plans and progress being set into motion. She already figured she was reaching past Illidan's level..

"That's not all. We've also discovered the presence of a smaller nation that had taken up refuge in Shadowmoon Village."

"What?" The woman turned to look at the Kaldorei Oracle with a narrowed stare "What do you mean?"

Mira coughed "I mean we share Shadowmoon Vally with someone else...whether they are friend or foe, however, Alizar and Dran said they will keep a close eye on it."

The news was strange to Krystala's ears. Last time she checked, there were no other nations in the Vally besides remaining Illdari warriors and a few other races...she'd have to find out more of this new nation later on. "We wont worry about it now...Kiros, you holding out okay there?" She looked over her shoulder to Kiros, who sat on the other side of the tank, his ears straight, listening.

He was focused, and Krystala doubted she was going to get any sort of response from him, so she left it at that.



Warden's Cage / Alter of Sha'Tar / Dragonmaw Fortress Fortifications complete.

Illdari Point needs one more turn to completion.

Fortifying Wildhammer Strong hold, renamed "Black Reach", begins. Time is 2 Turns.

Fortification of Death Forge begins. Estimated time is 2 Turns.


Research on Nether Drakes complete. Creation of Nether Skyblades available. Reward is 20 Skyblades.

10 Darkblades, 10 Oracles and 10 Fel-Constructs lost in the battle of Wildhammer Stronghold. Making replacements. Time is one turn to completion.


Assulting Legion's Hold.

Sent 2 Void Reapers and 20 Skyblades to assult Legion's Hold. Estimated time is 1 turn.

Krystala and Co.

Moving through Zagramarsh. Estimated time to Cave that leads into Blade's Edge is 1 turn (Given there be no interruptions along the way)

Captain Aleyra knocked on the door of the room inhabiting the 7th story of the second tower of Avarrack. Cargash opened it to reveal himself, Jalnar, and the ambassador Deltan. The captain was about to speak when Cargash began talking.

“Excellent, everybody is here. Now then, to get to the point, we have some problems and you two are the people to solve them,” Cargash began, gesturing to Deltan and Aleyra. “Jalnar will give you the details.”

“Very well,” the adviser said. “To begin, Deltan. We've just heard back from our forces moving South and have received news of a very large Ethereal community at the manaforge. You will be escorted South with a cavalry unit and obtain access to the manaforge's power hopefully through peaceful means. As soon as you are finished down South, we have a second mission for you. A second possible rival has taken up residence in Tempest Keep. We could most likely destroy them, yet it would take far too long and our armies would be significantly weakened. You will be sent by Nether Ray to the manaforge near the Keep. You now have your assignment and are permitted to leave.”

“Yes sir,” Deltan replied before placing an arm across his chest in a salute and exiting the tower.

“Now then captain, I'm sure you were wondering why you've been summoned,” Jalnar continued as he turned to face her. “The military barracks are taking up far too much room in the city, and with our many new 'secret' operations, a safe place for a command center and mass barrack is required. We have picked out Socreathar's Seat. You are to send a unit of Nether Ray bombers to grind away all structures there. As soon as the demolition is complete, you are to take a team of construction workers over to the island on the Hyperion and begin construction on a second fortress. Now move out.”

“”Yes sir,” the captain responded as she saluted in the same way Deltan did before she too left the tower.
Growth Cycle!
432 new Cult of the Damned Populace
10 new Auchenai Populace
750 new Burning Blade Populace

1000 new Mindless Skeletons wandering the Bone Wastes
500 new Mindless Spirits wandering the Bone Wastes

86 new Burning Blade Fanatics trained in Burning Blade Clan
47 new Burning Blade Warlocks trained in Bleeding Hollow Clan
39 new Kil’Sorrow Deathsworn trained at Kil’Sorrow Fortress
18 new Cabal Raiders trained at Grangol’var Village
10 new Death Speakers within the Auchindoun

Death Energy Generated(460 Speakers): 1030
200 new Skeletal Warriors animated within Auchindoun
230 new Skeletal Archers animated within Auchindoun
300 new Skeletal Magi animated within Auchindoun

Completed Projects:

[TF: Grangol’var Village]: 576 Burning Blade Fanatics and 50 Cabal Raiders finshed constructing Grangol’var Stables at Grangol’var Village.
Reward: Enabled Cabal Raider Growth (10-30 per Cycle) Walls to Grangol’Var.

[TF: Bone Wastes]: Mal’Zuur, 1100 Skeletal Warriors and 30 Skeletal Archers have arrived to Assault Stonebreaker Hold.
Reward: Combat with Stonebreaker Hold

[N: North of Burning Blade Clan Ruins]:Garokk, 400 Burning Blade Fanatics and 300 Burning Blade Warlocks scouting north to Found Sea-Side Town and Construction have finished construction of a Sea-Side Town atop the old Ring of Trials.
Reward: Established inland sea-side town of Garokk’s Harbour. Unlocked maritime research and unit capabilities.

[N: Burning Blade Clan]: Construction of Watch Tower complete.
Reward: Sight over Nagrand/Terokkar Forest path and between Burning Blade Clan/Kil’Sorrow Fortress.

Terokkar Forest: Auchindoun: Chamber of the Eye

In addition to the inscribed basin of communication, the Chamber of the Eye within Auchindoun now housed an old stone table (found and brought down to the Chamber by Karshe’s assistant Kerrel), several more flaming torches to better light the room (all a strangely dark, red flame), and a secondary bowl full of burning herbs and incense to calm and concentrate the weary mind of the speaker. Karshe was now maintaining communication with the ever-growing set of sub-cults under her command, and it was leaving her tightly-strung (more so than usual).

“If only that bastard hadn’t killed the other council members,” she snapped viciously as her assistant placed the map she had asked for, on the table. “I am extremely understaffed for this… You do well though Kerrel, I would be lost without you.” The assistant smiled and added some more herbs to the bowl of incense before slinking off into the shadows (which were now even further shrunken into the walls).

Karshe turned over her map, standing bent over with one hand pressed against her forehead and the other supporting her weight on the table. The flickering firelight cast eerie markings over her plans, but she was unperturbed. Her plans were going well, the Lich Mal’Zuur would serve excellently in achieving her goals, and once he was done she would have power enough to overthrow him. (However, the sheer amount of dead marching out of Auchindoun weekly was enough to make her worry). She trusted in her cultist brothers and sisters.

Three hours passed before Karshe was ready to begin communication. Her information outside of the Terokkar Forest and Nagrand was very limited. She was aware of large human nations based in the marsh and in the Hellfire Peninsula; however the remnants of the Horde and the Night Elves would likely occupy their time, as they were also based to the North. Rumours of the Illidari rising once more had yet to be proven, and a strange coalition of humans, undead and Fel Orcs also based near the border of the Shadowmoon Valley was concerning but vague. In Nagrand itself, two unknown, apparently Goblin-ruled cities did not weight too heavily on Karshe’s mind.

Kerrel stepped out of the shadows and begun the basin burning, speaking “Garokk’s Harbour” as the flame began to lick towards the roof of the chamber. It was a new command; they had yet to make communication with the harbour, as Garokk had been trusted on his own. It had been a week since the Harbour was due to be completed however and Karshe wanted to get Garokk leading her forces once more, hopefully integrating any remaining forces within Nagrand that were willing to bleed for a cause.

After several minutes the flames began to die and the smoke began to plume. It was only a moment after that when the outline of an Orcish head became obvious through the smoke. “Garokk Firefist speaking, what is it?” came the deep rumble of the Burning Blade Cult-Lord through the smoke, his thick features roiling around above the basin. It was easy to tell that a grin the size of Auchindoun was spread across his muscular features.

“Garokk,” Karshe addressed, standing firm and proud in front of her own basin. On the other side of the communication, only her voice was heard by the recipient (who stood within a ritual circle managed by two warlocks). It was her who had to initiate the ritual from the Chamber of the Eye. If any of the sub-cults wished to contact her, the best they could do was send a pulse through to the chamber and hope she responded. “Report.”

“My Harbour stands tall and strong,” he began, an overwhelming sense of pride seething through the porthole. “The Fortress of Garokk stands on the hill, it spits into the lake around it. Under it sits the former Ring of Trials, this is where we train new warriors and sailors. The town of Garokk’s Harbour crawls south across the plains. As we speak, workers are in search of metals and stone to fortify the Fortress.”

“I want you to begin ship production straight away Garokk,” Karshe spoke, making a small mark on the map next to her as she spoke. “Get your facilities up and running immediately, I am impressed but yet to be satisfied.”

“I will do this Karshe,”{/i] Garokk agreed, and Karshe turned her attention to the map and begun to fill in details of Garokk’s Harbour. [i]“There is one more thing! Our lookouts reported three weeks ago, a party of several hundred Boulderfist Ogres were spotted fleeing from the North towards Terokkar Forest. We did not engage, we were sweating to keep schedule and did not have the numbers for a clean battle. We left them to the others. Are they slaughtered? We think they may have carried valuable building supplies.”

Karshe frowned, “I have heard nothing of these Ogres so far, send some scouts out to check the nearby areas. I do not want Ogres setting up in your backyard while we focus on more pressing things. I will make sure that Grazedfist did not forget anything in his report.” Karshe scowled as the smoke dispersed into the room and Kerrel stepped forward to ignite the next fire. “How does a band of fleeing Ogres go missing?” she mused as she swapped a map around and prepared for her next communication.

“Burning Blade!” her assistant announced, and the flames darted once more up to the ceiling. It always burned a little brighter with the Burning Blade communications. It was little things like this that made Kerrel admire the complexities of the flame. Karshe, on the other hand, was an intelligent, tactical, brilliant mind, but as magically adept as any other warrior or peon. She held belief in her own abilities, and little more.

“Grazedfist reporting,” a heavier, less enthused voice echoed through the smoke.

“Grazedfist, report… and don’t leave anything out,” Karshe growled. The answering Orc could tell he had done something wrong, but his mind was still working to figure out what. Nonetheless, he did what he was told.

“Things quiet here,” the disappointment in his voice was obvious, “Fight broke out while constructing the Tower you wanted, we had to start over but it done now. Nothing else happening. We train, we wait.”

Karshe sighed, “Anything about Ogres? Garokk informed me that a large party of Ogres were seen heading your way three weeks ago. Think really hard now.”

“That when fight broke out… I didn’t see no Ogres.”

“Argh useless!” Karshe shouted into the air, Grazedfist cringed and stood silently until Karshe had finished sighing. “No, this is my fault. I should not leave fanatics idle. Grazedfist. You are to take whatever forces you can spare. Leave some to maintain Burning Blade Clan protection. Travel north and meet with Garokk and the newly finished Harbour. You are to then follow his orders. You will not have to remain idle much longer, I promise.”

“I will do this Karshe.”

Karshe spent an hour with her table of maps and documents before she motioned for Kerrel to begin the next communication. Kerrel had been aiding her with her planning, the logistics of keeping hundreds of unstable killing machines moving so they didn’t self-destruct were difficult. Once Karshe had finished her plans, she decided to call into Kil’Sorrow Fortress and see what was happening on their end. The fire sparked once more.

“Kil’Sorrow Shadowlord Misery reporting.” The cold, calculated drawl filled the Chamber, “What is it you desire, mighty Karshe?”

“I am following the movements of a large band of Boulderfist Ogres that were said to have passed through your area of control just short of three weeks ago. Have you heard anything of this?” she asked, assuming already to receive a blank face and perhaps a bout of laughter over how someone could lose several hundred Ogres.

“Why yes,” Misery commented, “I thought nothing of it, as I have been informed of attempts to find and negotiate with the Warmaul. I also could not spare the Orcs, we’re observing concerning activity from the Steamwheedle Wolves that may threaten us. I assumed if they were not allies then the Bleeding Hollow or the Bone Wastes would take them, they were not heavily armed, they only seemed to carry supplies.”

Karshe stared forward for a moment, before relieving Misery and closing communication. “Oh what a farcical chase this is,” she snapped, “I’m tracking runaway Ogres half way around the world. Kerrel, could you bring up the Bleeding Hollow Clan Base please?” she shifted some papers around again, and stared at a map trying to figure out where her band of Ogres was even attempting to go. They couldn’t march right on Auchindoun, could they?

“Bleeding Hollow!” came Kerrel’s voice, and Karshe turned back to face the fire.

“Would you retrieve a drink with some weight for me, Kerrel?” she asked as the fire began to burn down. Her assistant nodded and sped off in the direction of the surface. Kerrel ran a hand down her face, the smoke took longer to coalesce this time around, but eventually an Orcish face shone through, female.

“Warlock Felhallow reporting from Bleeding Hollow,” the throaty voice spoke, “What is it you’re looking for mighty Karshe?”

“I am looking for a band of Ogres, actually,” Karshe grumbled, “Have your scouts spotted anything of the kind in the last several weeks?”

“Just over two weeks ago,” the Warlock responded, “We were bringing our latest batch of Warlock recruits out for a test run against the skeletons of the Wastes, when a huge band of several hundred Ogres came marching through the pass. We thought them friendly to get past our forces on the other side, but they were in such haste that we hid amongst the trees. They fled into the Bone Wastes like the mighty Sargares himself was behind them. We did not pursue so deeply into the Wastes as to get lost amongst the Mindless Dead.”

Karshe shook her head in disbelief, and a moment later Kerrel returned with a skin of something fiery, and the elder began to drink it. “Felhallow,” she spoke after a long draught of the powerful substance, “I will deal with these runaway Ogres. For now, focus on developing a stronger coven of Warlocks. We’ll need the in the war to come.” She cut the communication before Felhallow replied, and took another strong swig of the drink. “This is ridiculous. Sorry to have you run around Kerrel, but can you check with the Cult of the Damned as to whether several hundred Ogre corpses have turned up anywhere lately? Set me up with Gragol’var Village first…”

Combat Interlude: Stonebreaker Hold

[TF: Stonebreaker Hold]: The Hand of Mal'Zuur lead by Mal'Zuur, aided by Bonelord Rime engaging with Stonebreaker Hold Defenders at Stonebreaker Hold.
The Hand of Mal'Zuur Forces: 1100 Skeletal Warriors, 30 Skeletal Archers, Mal'Zuur
Bonelord Rime Forces: 120 Skeletal Warriors, 600 Skeletal Archers
Stonebreaker Hold Forces: 400 Armed Grunts, 300 Troll Axe Throwers, 500 Armed Militia, 50 Horde Mages, 50 Horde Shaman

“Give up hope!” Mal'Zuurs voice echoed throughout the mountains. The Horde had noticed the destruction of Allerian Stronghold, and had rallied well against the Undead forces. Makeshift barricades had been set up alongside the Bone Wastes, and a small wall set up with additional spikes the forest side. Forces were split throughout the town, as Bonelord Rime marched from the North, and Mal'Zuur from the south.

They didn't stand a chance, but they put up a hell of a fight.

Mal'Zuurs lines crashed against the barricades without a modicum of self-preservation. The Lich himself blasted a hole in the Horde lines as soon as he got to the front of his army. A ring of frost exploded outwards from one barricade and toppled another one, sending the third reeling into its own men. Mal'Zuur grinned as frost dripped from his fingertips.

Bonelord Rime struggled to get into the town itself with his lack of melee equipped soldiers, and eventually decided to simply rain arrows down upon the Horde from outside. This aided the battle, but a large portion of his forces were lost swiftly due to combined Shaman and Mage fire upon the fragile army of skeletons.

Mal'Zuur lead his forces into the Stonebreaker Hold like a flood through a crack in the wall. Several of the militia attempted to throw ropes around him and bring him to the ground. He sent them handful by handful straight to hell. In this confusion, Bonelord Rime managed to gain the Hold, and once the Undead were upon them, the Horde defence fell apart. It was over shortly. Bones littered the ground. The screams of the Horde echoed through the forest.

“There is no hope for the enemies of Mal'Zuur,” the Lich chuckled, “Bring the bodies, drag them to Tuurem!”

[TF: Stonebreaker Hold]: The Hand of Mal'Zuur lead by Mal'Zuur, aided by Bonelord Rime engaged with and defeated Stonebreaker Hold Defenders at Stonebreaker Hold.
The Hand of Mal'Zuur Forces: 850(250 Lost) Skeletal Warriors, 30 Skeletal Archers, Mal'Zuur
Bonelord Rime Forces: 20(100 Lost) Skeletal Warriors, 220(380 Lost) Skeletal Archers
Stonebreaker Hold Forces: 0(400 Lost) Armed Grunts, 0(300 Lost) Troll Axe Throwers, 0(500 Lost) Armed Militia, 0(50 Lost) Horde Mages, 0(50 Lost) Horde Shaman

Terokkar Forest: Auchindoun: The Chamber of the Eye

“You cannot be serious,” Karshe groaned, as she listened to the report from the Blood Elf Bardsorrow, stationed south of the Bonechewer Ruins.

“I am serious Karshe,” he spoke, “I had ample time to count, there were three-hundred and forty seven Ogres passing through to the Shadowmoon Valley earlier today. They carried wooden planks, stone, tools, and a few wounded. If you ask me, I'd say they're looking to set up a new home. They looked almost humble.”

Karshe downed her third stein of heavy alcohol, and waved Bardsorrow off. The smoke dispersed for the last time. “So Kerrel,” she spoke, turning to her assistant, “How do almost four-hundred Ogres wander from Nagrand to the Shadowmoon Valley, past the desert of the Bone Wastes, past no less than six heavily manned Shadow Council locations, without drawing the ire of at least one of those parties? How does a... how do...” she stammered for a moment, “I need a rest. Come, prepare my chambers...”

(( Note: Ithalin. 347 Boulderfist Ogres stumbled into Shadowmoon Valley with ample supplies to set up somewhere. They aren't heading for you likely, but you can do -whatever- you want with them now, they're yours. Hope you liked their journey. ))

Ongoing Projects:

[TF: Tuurem]: Mal'Zuur performing Necromancy on 2800 corpses in the centre of Tuurem.
Estimated: 2 turns for complete Necromancy
Reward: Successful Animation of Skeletal Warriors, Skeletal Magi and Skeletal Archers OR Lower Animation of Mindless Skeletons OR Failed Animation of nothing OR a combination of the above.

[N: Burning Blade Clan]: 400 Burning Blade Fanatics and 200 Burning Blade Warlocks travelling north to Garokk’s Harbour.
Estimated: 1 turn
Reward: Self-Explanatory.

[TF: Bleeding Hollow Clan]: Construction of Warlock Coven underway.
Estimated: 2 turns
Reward: Increased Burning Blade Warlock growth by 10%

[N: Garokk’s Harbour]: Construction of Simple Maritime Facilities at Garokks’ Harbour.
Estimated: 2 turns
Reward: Unlock construction of simple transport ships.

[N: Kil’Sorrow Fortress]: Construction of Altar of Death inside the Fortress.
Estimated: 3 turns
Reward: Increased Kil’Sorrow Deathsworn growth by 10%

[TF: Sethekk Halls: Death Speakers attempting to Regain control of the Sethekk Halls in Auchindoun.
Estimated: 3 turns
Reward: Unlock Time-Lost Avian Rippers, anti-air flying unit.

[TF: Bonechewer Ruins]: Mogma attempting Complex Scheme to gain Dominance and Control over Bonechewer Clan at Bonechewer Ruins.
Estimated: 1 turns to fully take control, if no complications
Reward: Control of Bonechewer Clan, including 400 Bonechewer Grunts (these units do not breed) and the Bonechewer Clan Town.

[TF: Auchindoun]: 500 Cult of the Damned Populace being trained to Infiltrate/integrate into Shattrath Society over several terms.
Estimated: 4 turns: 4 turns to fully integrate
Reward: Cult of the Damned Populace integrated into Shattrath Society for later use.

[RESEARCH]: Death Speakers attempting to reactive latent ability of Spirit Towers to conjure Ash Storms in immediate vicinity.
Estimated: 2 turns
Rewards: Ability when manned, for Spirit Towers to conjure Ash Storms in immediate area.

Edge of Ar’aquar, Netherstorm

Ambassador Aryun stood impatiently at the wall that divided the island that held Ar’aquar (or as the mortal races called it, Manaforge Ara) and the rest of Netherstorm. He wasn’t sure if the impatience stemmed from his own nervousness or from the fact that his escort was an hour late. Perhaps it was a combination of the two. The Ambassdor sighed and looked up to see a ragtag military group “marching” -if you could even call it that- in the distance. Their formations were broken, and there was no sense of purpose or unity in their march.

When the soldiers arrived, the largest one leading the marched introduced himself. “Greetings, Ambassador Aryun. I am squad captain Mar’ali We are the-”

“I know who you are,” Aryun snapped. “More importantly, where have you been for the last hour. Your orders were to have you arrive an hour after midday, and it is clearly two hours after. Tardiness should have you scourged in the military, no?” The rage in Aryun’s voice caused all 20 soldiers to slink back in fright. Only the Captain, who called himself Mar’ali, stood adamant.

“My apologies, ambassador. I’m afraid getting the mana wyrm took longer than expected. The breeder was out in the market, and we ended up waiting til-” Aryun raised his hand to stop the train of excuses from going any further. He quickly glanced towards the mana wyrm wrapped around the body of one soldier. A parcel was attached to it’s neck; given the properties of a mana wyrm, they could easily return back to the NTC palace to inform Jahir the results of the negotiations.

“It is done. Let us go now. The NTC, as cheap as they are, have provided us with a transport!” The soldiers shuffled to look behind Aryun, their facebandages wrinkling in confusion as they saw nothing. “That’s right!” Aryun gleefully said. “Our transportation will be our legs. Let’s hop to it then.” The soldiers groaned, which was odd, considering none of them felt fatigue.

Event: Aryun and his ambassadors set off on a march to Clockwork Covenant. 2 posts to completion

New Coruu, Netherstorm

Meanwhile, the ambassador party at New Coruu was having a much better time. Ambassdor Atark got a competent military group, who were punctual and disciplined. This was because New Coruu was the more industrialized and wealthier area of the NTC, and thus, paid for better military service. Atark was pleased that things were going so well, until he ran into Carsuz.

The etheral had caught them just a few miles off from New Coruu, a safe distance where no one could see them. Carsuz was a suave, well-kept ethereal; his bandages were well-kempt, perhaps even new. They were black, while his face remained a brilliant white. Few wisps of his life energy were visible, save for a few open spots on his face where his eyes were. Next to him stood a Spellbinder and another ethereal. “Greetings, gentle-ethereals. I trust you we are having a fine day.”

Keeping a polite demeanor, Atark matched Carsuz’s rhetoric, “Of course, good sir. In fact, we were our days were just made a little brighter by your appearance.”

“Wonderful, wonderful,” Carsuz said, the words rolling off his non-existant lips. “Say, I hear that you are going to the Bloodstrike nation in the north. Now, Jahir has been doing his best to silence the council that funds this very nation.” At the mention of Jahir, Carsuz’s face darkened. “I know he has been stealing our hard earned funds through those social instituons he calls ‘taxes.’ For the ‘good of the state,’ he says. My nether regions.” Carsuz’s tirade caused eveyone around him to shy away, scared he might lash out in his furious rage. Noticing the scared ethereals, Carsuz recollected himself.

“Regardless, I believe it’s time I take matters into my own hands. Atark, you are a skilled ambassador. I want you to go to the Bloodstrike, and have them sign this contract. It will bind them to me and my company, with absolutely no interference from Jahir.” Carsuz threw a parcel at Atark. Atark caught it, and stared at it intently for a few moments.

“That’s great, but what gain is there for me?”

The great Carsuz smirked, ready for the question. “For all of you, 10,000 credits.” The soldiers broke their discipline for the first time since Atark had met them; they whispered and giddied at the thought of so much money, something they would never see in their career. Atark was still concerned though.

“And if we should refuse?”

Carsuz folded his hands together, and looked out in the distance. “Well. I’m afraid I would be unable to trust you with my secret. So I’m afraid you’ll have to die. It is unfortunate for those who would not take such a sweet deal.” At this, the soldiers drew their glavies, poised ready to attack.

The next few moments happened in a flash. One by one, soldiers were sliced to shreds by invisible specters. The panicked ethereals slashed wildly at the air, hoping to hit their unseen opponents. Yet the shadows were quick, and made quick work of their prey. Atark backed away from the brutal slaughter, watching as the bound life force inside the ethereals diffused into the air. Purple energy cracked, and after the last had died, there was silence.

Atark turned around, picked up his parcel and bowed. “The great Carsuz is truly a great persuader. I see why they call you your title.” Carsuz smirked his ever famous smirk.

“I’m glad we see eye to eye.”

Carsuz assumed that Atark was talking of his title, the Netherdrake of the Market. He was actually, however, referring to his street name, the Netherhole of the Market.
Event: Atark, escorted by paramilitary Nexus-stalker (20) ride in a tram-like car towards Tempest Keep. 1 post til arrival.

Ecodome Midrealm

“Consortium. For too long have you waited idly by us, even sending mercenaries to attack us. However, my father is merciful, and we offer you a chance to join us.”

The words of the Nexus-Prince echoed across through the ecodome. An army of a thousand ethereals stood behind the Prince, looking menacing and threatening. That was all they needed to be, of course. Their training was limited to slicing logs with a glaive. When it came to actual combat, they were very unprepared.

The army had the intended effect, however, and the leaders of the Consortium stumbled out of the Ecodome, a white flag indicating peace talks. The vain Prince strode forward, the army shuffling behind him.

“Nexus-Prince Balaah, you grace us with your presence,” one of the leaders said. He said it against his will, but the Prince did not understand forced politeness, and the compliment went to his head.

“Yes, yes. Now then, what is your decision.”

The Consortium leader remained half bowed, never looking up. “We beg you, Your Grace, give us a few months to collect our belongings and data. I do believe that we have stayed far too long, and we have collected sufficient data. Dimensius has been slain, and I’m afraid laziness and gluttony - the enemies of us all - have kept us here. All we ask is for a month’s time to leave.”

The Nexus-Prince was impatient, however. “Hmm...I’m afraid one month is too long. What if you purposely sabotage the ecodome while we wait for you to leave? Or perhaps you may ask for another extension at the end of next month.” Or perhaps my father might disown me for not getting the ecodome he almost said, but for all of his faults, the Nexus-Prince knew what to keep silent.

The Consortium leader, still bowing, replied calmly, “Your Grace, we cannot simply pack up and leave within the hour. There are decades of work here and-”

The air grew thick as tensions between the two leaders grew intense. “If you will not leave this instant,” Balaah growled, “then I’m afraid we will have to draw arms.”

The Consortium leader, still bowed, replied, “I see. It is sad then.” The leader stood erect, and tore open his life bandages, revealing a bomb underneath. The Nexus-Prince, realizing what was happening began to ran.

It happened in a flash. Chaos and disorder filled the ranks as they all surged forward to take the ecodome. In their blind rage, the Nexus-Prince was forgotten, and the army of a thousand ransacked and pillaged everything in the ecodome.

Event: Failed negotiations at Ecodome Midrealm. Balaah MIA and 300 ethereals lost to crazy experiments, Consortium guards, and gigantic raptors.


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