[RP] Silence before the Storm

Xariandra had recently not been showing up much for her own cult meetings. Her most loyal follower, Tipsy the Dark Overseer, had been taking over, the Cruel Mistress herself only barely attending to the Council meetings as Zeria. Rumors went around, the Cultists theirselves even did not know what was going on. The Kingdom was pretty silent lately... The Cult had done a lot of strikes succesfully in all kinds of forms lately, and pressure was being put on Stormwind. But it was silent now. Peaceful. Too peaceful.

Merzel looked around Elwynn Forest from atop the Guard Tower of the Militia. He sighed, wondering where his sister would be now, and what she could be doing. His fellow Militia members were happy about the peace, and considered theirselves victorious. Merzel knew better. He sighed again and looked up in the sky, his lips slowly opening.

Silence before the storm...

Meanwhile, in the Plaguelands

I do not understand... Why is our great King suddenly changing everything? I had the Kingdom perfectly in my grasp. I have gathered a Cult almost as big as the original Lordaeron Cult for us! I have achieved far more than your original lieutenant in the Kingdom, who has now somehow turned back to the Light! For this one time. I do not understand, greater one. Why?

Xariandra gazed up to a human-like figure sitting on a Deathcharger, decorated with shields and trophies of the Scourge. The man himself had complete darkblue armor, and a mask hiding his face. On his back a big silver and blue colored glowing Runeblade, looking recently sharpened. Beside him stood two Liches. The foursome had been having a discussion about the King's new decisions. The Death Knight simply kept staring in the air, just above Xariandra. He did not even twitch slightly, he just kept staring. Suddenly, his very low, slow and dark voice sounded.

The Master's ways are... uncomprehendable sometimes, Xariandra.. You should know that, by now.

Xariandra kept gazing at the man, slowly clenching her fists. Just when she is about to speak, the Death Knight interrupts her.

Control your emotions, Xariandra. Surely you do not wish to let yourself look as weak as the pityful mortals you have been trying to conquer the entire time.

Xariandra then lowered her head, sighed, looked back up and talked calmer.

Trying? Do you even know what I have achieved back in the Kingdom? I have destroyed guilds, killed hundreds, corrupted many more, and the whole Kingdom knows my name.

The Death Knight immediatly responds.

I agree... Impressive work for a new one like you... But it is time we let them see the true face of the Scourge. Your game has been taking too long. Be glad your biggest goal, becoming a high ranked member of Stormwind, was a succes. You are still of great use to us thanks to that. Now, let us continue your work when we are ready. When the Alliance departs for our homeland, so shall we infiltrate theirs. A force they have never seen before back there in their pathetic Kingdom.

Xariandra could only clench her fists more as the Death Knight spoke so lowly about her. But she could only slowly bow and say two words.

Yes... Master.

The Death Knight finally made a movement. He slowly turned his head, and looked down the cliff next to them. Slowly, the ground started shaking, and the sound of a lot of hoofs marching could be heard. Then, down the cliff, on the road, a horde of Death Knights moving on their Deathchargers can be seen.



(( That's right. You thought Xariandra was creepy, evil, cold, or whatever? After a week of brainstorming I have made a character that is everything that Xariandra is but improved and with more. Prepare for the serie of most cunning plans, horrific tortures, and coldblooded murder ever seen on the realm! Coming with WOTLK! ))

(( Ah, it's good to see you came up with a good Roleplay reason of your absence. That post makes me want to make a Evil Death Knight Character now, although i have marow, he was never much of a Evil character. I want to actually create a Character who is as cold as Xariandra herself and who'll follow her to the death. And making a Paladin would be sucky, perhaps a warrior, although a Death Knight would be better, but i'm not waiting Till WOTLK.
You always did say i was a Decent. evil RPer
And now for a Little bit of IC: ))

Sharox sat emotionless in her Chamber, staring around at the black walls covered in dust. She muttered to herself, looking through the giant hole in the roof and staring at the Night sky.

"Where are you, Xariandra..."

She gazed around again and stood up and sighed, not noticing the Shadowy figure slip into the room.

"You called for me, Sharox?"

Sharox turned a smiled, before muttering to the figure.

"Ah, Yes... I have a mission for you... A Women, named xariandra, find her, track her, i doubt it is possible, but do what you can."

The Figure nodded.

"As you wish, Sharox. But i don't understand, surely you could track her yourself."

Sharox laughed, staring at the Figure.

"She appears to have made sure i couldn't, the spells backfired upon me as i attempted to cast them. So it appears tracking her Manually is the best option. And what better to use than you, a Dragon. Who not only can fly, but your own lair is situated in Northrend."

Sharox smiled at the figure, who replied quickly.

"As you wish, Sharox. And take this so we can communicate."

He handed Sharox a necklace with a locket hanging from it, it appeared to have some sort of crystal crafted into it that glowed with a reddish glare.

"Speak into it, i shall here you. And now i must be off. Farewell Sharox."

And then the figure stretched out both his arms, his appearence became more Reptilian, he grow larger and broader, his fingers clenched into claws, wings sprouted from his back and in a matter of seconds a Blue dragon stood before Sharox. It roared and with a few flaps of it's wings, it flew gracfully through the air, through the Hole in the ceiling and into the Night sky.
Sharox sat in her Chair again watching the large Draconic figure fly into the Horizon.

"Hurry to Northrend, my love. And if you can, find Xariandra..."

(( Note: Sharox doesn't actually love the dragon, she just admires him ))

((This post just bleeds with evilness, I shall stamp it with my ego's seal of approval. I'm being pulled further over to the dark side with this post it is that awsome and I might even align my DK with Xari once WotlK comes out...
*grins* Might even be getting the beta since I....know....a few people ))

Dascombe sat in the open of the catherderal square and pondered momentarily whilst sat in a state of meditation such as most paladins do to stay in touch with the light...

Something is coming...whatever it is, its something I have not felt since I last met that fiend Kel'Thuzad...

The bold paladin reached to the floor to pick up a battle torn tabard with a golden lion emblazoned upon an ocean blue background and flung it over his golden paladin armaments

We had best train the recruits...they need to be ready...

He glanced up at the sky which even now seemed to be in turmoil as thunder sounded from a distant region of the kingdom

Something is amiss, the light knows it and so do the skies themselves.
We need to be ready, a malevolant force has set its eyes upon our kingdom

The only thing that can be seen is a lone figure walking beneath the head of Onyxia, recently hung upon the wall of the fortress-city standing out in a blinding golden light.

We all must make preperations...for this is simply the silence before the storm

(( Nice one Das, this must be the only forum that did IC replies to this. And now for a bit of IC from my old Paladin friend Firlios (My old alt, i deleted him a while ago, but i never gave him an IC reason for leaving). ))

"Blasted Corpses, Be Purged!"

Firlios swung his blade, a stream of pure Yellow energy poured from the blade, turning nearby Undead to ash, and wounding several more. He growled as hordes of Scourge poured into him and his allys. Nearby he heard the scream of his Dwarven friend Kreros, as two undead ripped off his arm and leg, he thrashed around with he remaining limbs, but was buried under a sea of appraching Scourge forces.
The Plaguelands, once home to the Proud alliance, now overrun by Corpses and Forsaken. He, Firlios Steele, was sent to investigate the situation. He, along with Three other volunteers, travelled to the Plaguelands over a week ago, only to find Scourge everywhere.

Damn it! There's to many! Let's go, we can't win this!

But none of the remaining group heard him, and Firlios couldn't see them. More Scourge ran at him, waving their arms madly, their fingernails where long and sharp, and glinted evilly in the low light. Firlios launched himself at them, swinging his blade in an attempt of cutting open a few Undead. Meanwhile, he raised his other arm in a hope that his shield would offer him some well needed protection. He stared around, searching for his remaining allys, but he couldn't see them. Kreros's mangled corpse lay at his feet, his eyes shut. If he wasn't ripped apart in such a way, he would look like he was sleeping.
And then Firlios saw it, a huge Blue behemoth the size of Goldshire Inn or bigger, flew overhead them, it let out a tremendous roar and dived, releasing bursts of energy at the Undead, turning them to nothing but dust. Firlios stared, wide eyed, in disbelief, and then, smiled. The Dragon finished off the remaing Undead, looked at Firlios and seemed to... Nod? Yes, he nodded at him, then roared again and flew off.
Firlios gasped and collapses onto one knee, throwing his sword away from him. He looked at kreros's corpse, and wrote in the dust on the ground.
Here lies Kreros. A Noble and proud Dwarf.
And Firlios agreed with what he wrote and stood up and saluted. But as he stood there something happened he wasn't expecting.
There was a Inhuman scream. He turned and saw a Undead flailing his mangled limbs at him. Firlios dived for his sword but missed it, and the Undead Screamed triumphantly and stabbed him with his Mutant claws, sending sharp pains into Firlios's stomach. Firlios gasped at the pain, he threw the Undead off him and rolled over, grabbed his sword and swung it blindly at the Undead, cutting it in two.
He lay there for what seemed like hours, he felt hot blood pump out of his stomach. The corpses of his friends surrounded him, he smiled, staring at the sky and closed his eyes. Slowly, but surely, he slipped into what seemed like sleeping. He summoned all of the energy he had left in him, and lifted his arm and plunged his sword into the ground next to him, hopefully one day someone would find his corpse, and kreros's... Before the Scourge do.
And then he was gone.

((hehe, this is gonna be like a relay run me can see. Wonder how many posts this topic can get before people run out of RP? ))

The sun struggled to stay high in the foul midday of the plaguelands, it even seemed to have a tint of green smeared upon its pure and nobel face.

Hmph, more shambling corpses. What ARE you up to Kel'Thuzad?

Dascombe glared across the horizon at the masses of shambling corpses which were pre-occupied with their afternoon wandering to pay any notice to him and so the Paladin walked calmly across the infected and tainted soil towards the city.
The city, of Stratholme.


Upon reaching the once proud human city he came across a new group of skeletons he had not seen since he had arrived, he wandered over to them and pondered over whom they might be.
Slowly, Dascombe turned to his sachel and pulled out a device which was not of gnomish OR goblin creation, it was his own which he himself crafted.
Flicking the swich he turned towards the meeting stone and smiled as if greeting an old friend.

Afternoon Anthion, this evening does shine upon you

Spare me the pleasentries Dascombe, death is not as interesting as I expected it to be

I see you have some company? Might I ask whom it was?

Ahh yes, 'twas a group of nobel Dwarves on a raiding party or so it seems, judging by the notes they were carrying I would assume they were a reconissance group

And just how many were they slain by? I can see one of them was decapitated rather horrifically

Hmm, I must say, there were far too many to count I would have to say about a hundered or more

Hmm, that is troublesome if even the plaguelands has that many numbers to throw at a reconissance group

Turning away from the passed spirit, Dascombe turned to the floor to pick up a note and glanced at the text: Here lies Kreros. A Noble and proud Dwarf. After reading the text he heard the shriek of what sounded like a group of Dwarves shouting a battle cry. Glancing around to reveal nothing the Paladin stood steadfast and prepared as he turned towards the skeletons of the Dwarves only to gasp in horror as several spirits emerged from them.
The one he assumed could only be the leader judging by his pose and armour was slicing at re-animated spirits of undead which materialised from thin air several yards away from the befouled remains.



"Blasted Corpses, Be Purged!"

Dascombe gasped in awe as the several dwarves stood their ground at a most mighty foe, even in the form of a spiritual manifestation the leader's eyes flamed with determination.
As the slaughter continued Dascombe heard a second shriek, but this was more of a roar, a bestial one at that.
Glancing to the sky he saw a huge blue drake blot out what little of the sun remained with its stark blue hide as it swooped below and burned many of the undead with a streak of arcane fire, because of the magic contained within the Drake's being the flames managed to manifest physically and burn Dascombe's arm who was too close to the battle.

Watch it you bastard!

Shortly after the Dwarves began to perish Dascombe realised what this vision ment to him, the lost souls of these noble soldiers cannot rest in turmoil. So using the power of light he began to perform an exorcisim ritual which illuminated the blood stained city walls of Stratholme and even the surrounding moat was shining with brilliance.
A few moments passed and the group of spiritual skeletons began to fade away just as they came but the Dwarves remained looking as confused as a goblin in Gnomeregan and pottered about just as most spirits do in their first moments of death.

Its nae tha' bad once tha' hackin's over
Said one of the Dwarves to his captain whilst laughing heartily.
Damn that wus' bloody 'orrible! I thought we'd be suck in tha' limbo 'fer ages!

The group turned towards the city of Stratholme and the leader grinned at the walls, now a bright yellow from the ritual but seemingly not to notice Dascombe who stood gasping in awe at the reaction from the Dwarves.

well, we obviously did'nae come 'oot o' it oorsel's so we got someone to thank 'fer it
The band of dwarves formed a circle from their numbers and bowed in what seemed to be every direction

greatly appreciate it lad, ye saved us a load'a bother with that whole eternal battle whot-sit

And as the ritual began to fade so did the merry band of Dwarves, just as the undead blinked out of existance they too followed.
The now confused Dascombe sat on the ground and picked the note up off the floor and rubbed his eyes briefly before sticking the note into a page of his libram and muttering a short prayer.


Ahem?!

huh?

aren't you forgetting something?

Dascombe glances towards Anthion and raised an eyebrow in confusion but the ghostly figure pointed a thumb over his shoulder as sounds of undead beginning to mobilize can be heard

"You're still here? Your foolishness is amusing! The Argent Dawn wench needn't suffer in vain. Leave at once and she shall be spared!"

Damn it!

And thus the bewlidered paladin rushed to the entrance of Stratholme and all that could be heard was the sound of undead being cut down in their tracks

hehe, most reliable paladin there is eh?

A short grin followed the ghost of Anthion as he stood where he normally stands and he slowly turns his head towards the sunlight and chuckles briefly.

hmm, I could have sworn I saw a dragon just there, above the plaguelands though?

(( Two man story!! ))

He flew onwards towards Northrend, hungry and tired. The wind was cold and bit into his flesh like knives being driven into his body. The land below him was a ruin of it's former self. The once proud human lands now reduced to rubble. He flew over Lordaeron, glancing at it for a brief second, remembering the days where it once stood, gleaming and powerful, not like the mes it is today.

"This land is dead.." He thought.

He could see Stratholme on the horizon, it's walls and buildings burning. He swooped lower and noticed a group of Dwarves fighting a battle on the land below. They where struggling against a large group of Undead that seemed to be coming from everywhere.

Blasted Corpses, Be purged!" Shouted a Human, obviously the leader of the group.

But however hard he and his allies tried, they couldn't push back the large forces of the Scourge. More dwarves fell to the wave of Undead. He couldn't wait here and watch them all die. He let out a Bestial roar, and dived downwards, releasing bursts of energy hurtling at the Scourge. They had no chance against his attacks, and where reduced to nothing but dust as they where struck by the energy.
He landed next to the leader of the group, and as it appeared, the only survivor. Then, forgetting he was a dragon, nodded at him, roared again and flew off. The wind was even colder as he flew northwards, and he knew he was nearly there.

Sitting in a tavern in the bussling city of Booty Bay, Xacsermat was seated in the tavern enjoying a pint of mead and not having a care in the world since he has now retired from active duty for the Stormwind Militia. As he finishes his mead he walk's to the outside of the tavern and looks upon the setting son just over the horizon, he sighed and said to him self "Ahh... now I can enjoy this retirement to the full" with a sly grin on his face and walk to this new home in the city of Booty Bay.
Early the next morning, he woke up the rising sun with a good smile on his face and he quickly got changed grabed his fishing pole and bait and went to the dock's to try and catch the fish of the day.

After a short while he was approchd by three Militia men, he knew what they wanted. As they approched he carried on with his fishing trying to ignore them and their recquest that they were about to give to him.
as they walk up to Xacsermat he say's to them:
"Don't even bother guy's... I already retired from active duty you can't send me back in."
The first Militia: "Xac listen to me, the scourge are on the move we need more men even if we have to drag them out of retirement."

Xac:"Look I did my service to Lauderon, Andorhal, Stormgrade and Stormwind. I think I've earned my retirement." He glare's at them hoping that they would leave him in peace.

The second Militia:"Xac you've seen how the scourge can fight. You know their move's we need your help we've already got four other's out of retirement."

Xac: "Well you ain't getting me out of it mate."

Theird Militia: "Look just think about it, You know where to find us. And beside's you might be able to see your wife and two daughters again."

Before Xacsermat could react they were going away. He sat back in his seat thinking of what to do next.

(( Soz i've been inactive lately, i've been on holiday and i've been sick lately. Will now attack the topic with Sharox again ))

"You've failed me, Firlios..." Sharox muttered. "I don't bid well with traitors. I told you to do something for me, and you ran off on an expedition given to you by the Council...

She glared at the body strapped to the chair. Firlios sat there, staring at the ground, unable to move but alive enough to feel the pain Sharox inflicted upon him. He mumbled.

"Why do you bother keeping me like this, i'm not alive, neither am i dead. What have you done to me..?"

Sharox smiled.

"Quite simple. I've caught you're soul after some fool attempted exorcism. I let the other helpless victims have the peacefulness of death, but i kept you alive, just enough to make sure you could scream"

She drove a knife into his gut and slashed it downwards. Firlios roared in agony, but because of the effects of the spell, he couldn't move or fight back.

"Now you shall feel my pain, and my suffering. You shall feel what it is to betray me!" Sharox yelled.

She ripped the knife out of his stomach and slashed it across his neck, warm blood splashed across her face, and Firlios continued screaming. Sharox waved her hand and the spell binding him lifted. He fell to the ground and thrashed around on the stone floor, blood flailed everywhere. Then, after a few minutes of torment, Firlios stopped moving and died for a second time.

"Fool..." Sharox muttered.

She then sat down on the same chair Firlios had sat on. She had drained herself using the spell. Sighing, she pulled three small crystals from her bloodstained robes and clenched them in her fist. The small glimmers of light in each crystal faded, as if they where being sucked out. Sharox then threw them away onto the floor where they stood lifeless.
She looked at the sky and wondered wether Firlios's spirit would leave Azeroth, or would be damned to a life of imprisoment. Suddenly her Militia radio blared, and someone's voice was shouting out of it, requesting backup in Goldshire. She sighed and clicked her fingers, muttering another spell so that her robes materialised into the Militia Blue robes. She then started casting another spell, focusing on Goldshire, she teleported herself away. And all that remained in that place was the echoes of the dying paladin's screams.

(( Okayyy, maybe a bit to gruesome and bloody, but heck ))

The night was cold and his armour heavy, the man in golden lightforge made his way across the now blighted fields of Lordaeron, now called the Plaguelands...
He stopped and stared across a green and fetid river towards a large burned down city...

Andorhal...

The paladin dropped to his knees and began crying, memories of his past came flooding back into his mind.
He came to his senses a moment later and proceeded towards one of the gatehouses which were now in ruins, he spotted a ravenous ghoul and sent a wave of holy energy which burned the monster from the inside out until a pile of ash remained where it stood.
He looked to the tower to see bloodstains streaked across it and sighed.
Feet stomping down the now ruined streets the paladin was relieved for one thing: The blood had now gone...almost...
A pirecing shriek was heard across the night and birds flew from their nesting place and the Paladin clicked his fingers and summoned a blade which emitted a cheer which seemed to counter the horror of the shriek.
He ran swiftly down the streets swinging the mighty blade from side to side cutting down ghoul and skeletons alike trying to find where the blood-curdling scream came from.
He kicked down the door of a nearby house so easily it just crumbled to ash, running to the top floor he burst open a window and climbed to the ceiling. He heard the voice from near the city centre and so lept from housetop to housetop when he finally dropped down and stood in the city square.
He was paralyzed with fear at what he saw... A lich and an army of ghouls were stood around a small group of men and women, all in their twenties or thirties wearing scarlet armour.
In front of the group was a body on the floor, barely recognisable since the colour of the blood mixed in with that of the colour of his armour, the ribcage pried open and several meters of intestinal track scattered about the floor.
The Scarlets stood in a group, no weapons but not bound...they had seen the Paladin in his Lightforge but did not call to him as it would only invite him to death.
The Paladin nodded towards them, aware of the situation.
Grinning in the shadows, the Paladin clicked his fingers to grab the attention of a group of nearby ghouls and he disappeared in a crackle of arcane energy.
The shambling corpses staggered over to where they heard the noise and gave a gutteral groan, disappointed there was nothing to eat they turned around briefly.
Then a blade dropped straight through the first ghoul, slicing him clean into two and leaving a stream of light in its wake, the others turned around and let forth what was the combination of an undead groan and a howl...
The lich in the centre of the ghoul army turned his head and focused his attention on the Paladin, calling forth a barrage of icicles to pin the man against the wall but instead the Paladin dived out of the way and in his place several of the ghouls were impaled against the wall of a nearby house.
The Lightforge armour started to glisten with blood of the Scourge and the man wearing it began to grin wickedly

It was YOU I saw on that night...

The lich cackled manically and focused his chilling stare upon the Paladin emitting a voice which echoed with that of an insane mage.

Yesss, It was me...I was different back then...More...human...but no more! I am Araj the summoner! The blood in your veins will shatter as ice!

A flood of blood-red ghouls surged towards the paladin who only made a quick hand gesture and shot bolts of holy light in all directions which burned their way through multiple ghouls.

Many years ago, when I was just a boy...you drowned this city in the blood of innocents. Now I shall line the pavements with your bones instead!

Taking advantage of the situation, an arcanist amongst the group of the Scarlets summoned a ball of molten rock which flew with such speed towards the Lich he could not react.
There was a large explosion followed by steam which dampened the area.
The sounds of skin being ripped could be heard and a knife darted past the Paladin...and halted in mid air.
A second blade hovered nearby with a shred of crimson cloth on the tip of it and the Paladin could no longer hear the sounds of the Scarlet soldiers.
He quickly raised his shield as the first knife flew at him but was deflected off at a sharp angle and buried within the skull of a ghoul.
The second dagger took advantage of the block and aimed at the Paladin's chest.
Having little time to react he dropped his shield and drew forth a small dagger of his own, there was a clash in the mist.
The levitating dagger was parried aside and knocked to the ground, there was only the Lich left prowling within the mist.

I don't need weaponss to kill you...the cold pavementsss of Andorhal ssshall become your grave!

Turning to where the chilling voice came from, the man turned and threw the dagger quickly into the mist...
There was impact, it sounded like something cracking...
The mist dispirsed and amongst it was a very still Lich with a dagger stuck several inches into his skull just below where a scarab was.
The ground began to shake and the Lich started to crumple and crack.
Bones splintered, armour burned and the Lich was compressed into a small crystal orb: His Phylactery.

Rushing over to the centre of the square the Paladin quickly checked over the remains of the Scarlets, one was still breathing...
The Scarlet gasped for air and looked over the Paladin that was helping her to stand and noticed the tabard, it was that of the Stormwind Guard.
She giggled rather softly and smiled at him.

Its quite funny you know...so many of the Alliance come to our towns and monastaries to kill us...and here you are...risking your life for us...

The man carried the injured scarlet over to a ruined bench and placed a bandage over her head which was bleeding heavily.

Don't speak, you've just been stabbed repeatedly with a scourge knife, you can philosophise later...

The paladin returned the smile to the scarlet who could only sigh in return.

Such a pity the Highlord could'nt see this...I'm sure the Alliance have had their doubts about him...

As have we unto him...its a story for another time...one you might not get to hear.

He finished bandaging the woman's head and reached into his bag to hand her a sachel full of supplies.

Take these and head north, there is a scarlet town up the road which is better than staying here, trust me its clear all the way there.

The scarlet accepted the bag of supplies and got to her feet and looked down the cleared path that led to the Outskirts of the city and held the bandage on her head

Tell me, Sir Knight...what is your name? I'm sure this will be quite the story to tell to the rest of my friends.

The paladin hesitated and wondered if giving his name to scarlets would be such a good idea.

D---Dascombe....James..Dascombe...Cavalier of the Stormwind Militia

Dascombe stood and saluted out of reflex and then turned slighly red.

Sorry, i'm too used to saying that, its quite embarassing really.

Very well, Sir Dascombe...Cavalier of the Stormwind Militia.

The scarlet grinned rather playfully and walked off into the now approaching sunlight.

I shall tell a tale of you at Hearthglen

As the sun set over the city of Booty Bay, Xacsermat stumbuled out of the tavern obviously drunk from his drinking game he just had with two crewmen. As he tried to regain his balence from drinking too much mead he noticed three shadows, thinking that they were the Militia that arrived earlyer that day he ignored them and carried on toward's his home.

He heard a menicing chuckle come from behind him and as his reactions kicked in he drew his blade and held it in the direction from where the sound came from, then as if a fog came in three shadowy figures stood around him. Xacsermat called out to them.

Who are you? What are you doing here?!

Then one spoke as if he had different personalities with in him.

We are those who serve the darklord and lady, we are your doom.

Just as Xacsermat was about to respond they thrown them self's at him trying to strike him down; he doged two of them and struck the theird to the ground, then he ran toward's the tavern hoping to out run them. As he got inside the tavern he put his blade back in it's sheath and gave a sigh of relif, one of the crewmen that he was drinking with earlyer shouted from accross the bar.

Ahh Xac! Back so soon... how about another pint?

Just as he was going towards the crewmen and explosion of wood and flame's rushed towards him knocking him down and the two other shadowy figures rushed into the bar killing anyone and everyone that was in the bar. As the cry's and scream's of the people that were there he stood up and drawn his blade ready to fight shouting to the shadows

I am here! Come and face me you cowards! Am I no match for you?!

Then the shadowy figures stoped and looked at him letting forth a pircing howl that could turn your gutt's, but Xac stood strong and both of the assassins threw them self's at him again he struck one to the ground and the second knocked him back towards the bar. Watching the final shadow moving over head Xac noticed a rifle on the floor and went for it.

The assassin noticed this too and rush toward's it, Xac knock it back and picked up the rifle and fired a shot off at the shadow and in a fury the assassin burst into fire and the bar fell silent. One of the bar maid's said to Xac.

What on Azeroth was that?!

It was scourge assassin's sent to kill me...

He walked slowly through the many corridors, dragging his prisoner behind him. He finnaly emerged into the Large cavern. The smell of dry blood was thick in the air, and he turned and saw a body lying face down to the ground. He tied his prisoner to a rock and walked forward.

"I hope you bring me good news, Kareagos. Unless you want to end up like my poor paladin friend over there," Sharox said, pointing at the figure lying several feet away from here.

Kareagos bowed low, trying not to make eye contact with Sharox. He replied.

"Lady Sharox. I regret i didn't find Xariandra," Sharox frowned, he continued talking, more quickly. "But i came across this Ghoul, wandering the frozen wastes of Northrend. I quickly confronted him and brought him here. I was hoping he-"

"Is that the best you can do, Dragon? Did you hope that, in your failure, you would attempt to be forgiven by bringing me this Undead for interrogation?" Sharox cut in.

Kareagos thought of something to say.

"I did not wish to be forgiven for my failure, Lady Sharox. It is not my place to be forgiven for my failure at times like these. I was just hoping that, under the circumstances, you would look over my failure this one time, as this Undead may have knowledge of Scourge activity's."

He looked at Sharox, sweat ran down his face as he gazed into her eyes. After a few minutes Sharox replied.

"Tell me, Dragon. Do Undead speak Commen?"

She smiled sweetly.

"Well, some do, Lady Sharox... I mean, well-"

"Yes, you are quite right, Dragon. Some Undead speak Commen. But does this one?" Sharox said, grinning.

Kareagos gulped, trying to make up an answer that wouldn't cost him his life. But instead, the truth seemed to spill out of his mouth.

"I... Well... No, it doesn't, Lady Sharox."

Sharox smiled again.

"Then how, in all means possible, am i meant to interogate an Undead, who is not even capable of speaking the Interrogater's language?"

Her expression turned to a glare.

"I... I... I don't know, Lady Sharox..."

She nodded in agreement, then muttered a spell. A jet of energy was hurling at Kareagos. He had no time to roll out of the way, so instead he cast a shielding spell. Sharox's spell hit his shield and reflected off it, sending it flying at one of the large stone columns, smashing it to large chunks of stone and dust. But before he had got over it, Sharox started sending more energy at him. He cast up his shield again, and the same thing happened. More columns where smashed, so was the many shelves full of books. He stared around, and looked at the roof. He realised most of those columns had kept the roof up, and he already noticed large cracks appear on it. Suddenly, a noise like thunder happened, and the roof collapsed on him and Sharox. He roared and tried to get out of the way of the falling stone. But he wasn't fast enough.
And the rest was darkness.

As a mist rises over the Plagelands a Death Knight stand's by his dread steed looking over the lands, a scourge worshiper run's to the Death Knight and kneel's before him.

"Mi'lord, report's come back from Booty Bay... Th- The target has not been "ahem" taken care of sire."

The Death Knight clenches his fist and turn's slowly towards the messenger.

"You, bring me news of failure?! If it was the Darklord then he would have your head for your incompitence..."

"But Mi'lord I... I..."

The Death Knight rushes him and grabs him by the neck almost to the point of killing the man.

"But nothing! Your incompitence knows no bounds!"

He drop's the messenger and turn's towards the plain's of the Plaugelands, there is an eiry silence running over the two. Then the death knight sigh's.

"Head south and find the other's of the cult, they have agent's down there that will do the deed far better than you can". The messenger try's to interupt "Now go before I change my mind".

The messenger bow's and head's south toward's the human kingdom, the Death Knight turn's as the mist recedes and reviel's the Army of Death Knight's and undead of countless number's amassing.

"There is no use praying pittiful humans... for your time will soon come. The Litch King shal concor you all, for he is the one... True... KING!"
The Death Knight raise's his fist into the air and roar's come from the uncountless number's of undead and death knight's. The kingdom of Stormwind will soon be in for a fight.

(( Adding something from Rent ))

Rent is lying on his bed, the window is open and the nightcold wind strokes his skin. The nightelf just lies there as his lover next to him, he gives her a quick look and then turns his eyes to the ceeling again.

A few rain drops pours down from the sky.

-"Who was his man? Calling me a project... Been along time since i heared that..."

He turns to the side trying to quiet down the voice in his head... yet it goes on.

-"Whoever he was they had a connection. Xariandra and this... Bah... Where are you Xariandra? What's going on?"

Rent closes his eyes in an other attempt to think of something else.

-"Why did you leave me? I mean handing over the... "Project" to someone else? I thougt it was over. I thougt you where dead... but thise proves it. You're stil out there and your lackeys are as active as usual."

Rent sits up and yells out loud.

-"When you come back i will end you! You hear that!"

The woman next to Rent, gazes up on him.

- Anything wrong, dear?

Rent is shakeing, there is sweat all over his forehead. He looks down at his lover and gives a rather weak smile.

- Just a bad dream. Go back to sleep. It's alright.

The nightelf goes back to bed and closes his eyes.

-"Atleast i hope all of this is a nightmare..."

(( Not as pro as the rest of you but hey i try ^^
And about todays meeting, i had an computer meltdown so had to reinstall windows, just got it back later this eve ))