Tomorrow at 4:30, the Worgens of the Night lead the charge for the Liberation of Gilneas and Lordaeron, based in our behind-the-lines fort, Fenris Keep, situated on Lordamere Lake. Our first strike will be on Trisfal Glades. Send a letter or whisper to me or Luptia, and don't miss out on this start to this story!
Assault on Trisfal!!!
Whilst my duties in Silvermoon mean I shall likely abstain from this particular fray, as a learned man and a Magister I feel I am obliged to offer the following advice for any of your future endeavors.
Worgen.
Worgen of the night.
That will be all. I would say 'best of luck' to you, as would be polite, but I'd find it rather hypocritical as I would hope in all sincerity you provoke the wrath of the Dark Lady's ever-watchful followers.
It is a pity that I must refrain from doing so. Were I a betting man, I would wager that you will need it.
-The Magister Spellsong
Worgen.
Worgen of the night.
That will be all. I would say 'best of luck' to you, as would be polite, but I'd find it rather hypocritical as I would hope in all sincerity you provoke the wrath of the Dark Lady's ever-watchful followers.
It is a pity that I must refrain from doing so. Were I a betting man, I would wager that you will need it.
-The Magister Spellsong
Edited by Vanyris on 2/6/2012 9:41 PM PST
((All...the good stuff...is happening...while I'm CAPTURED! *grumble, grumble, grumble* xD Best of luck to both sides!))
Everyone is welcomed, Horde and Alliance! Please join us tonight for our first event! Victory for The Worgen of The Night!
Tap.
Tap. Tap.
Taptaptap.
A blue troll, Xenarr, leaned aside on an oversized silithid which chittered and shifted its weight, the insectoid creature agitated. It hated the damp chill of eastern Lordaeron. It hated Alliance. It particularly hated when the troll tapped on top of its shell in abject boredom.
"One dead an' they go home?" A harsh voice, Lightsworn's, crackled from a gadget held in the troll's hand.
"I certainly hope not." The more refined, subtly Dalaran accented tones of Archmage Zharikov answered.
The troll himself spoke up in a snickering growl, flicking a switch back and forth on the device. "Doubt it."
He hardly cared enough about some abandoned island to really have his interest piqued by sniping poorly organized wolves in the woods. It was for posterity. Assaults against Horde territory could simply not be allowed to go unanswered. Announced attacks near a major city were to be dealt with swiftly, brutally, and with cunning efficiency.
While the would-be attackers bored him nearly to tears, listening to the clipped communication of his own comrades grew entertaining. Concise, short, and organized, they called locations and swept out to follow targets of interest. It started to become a game. Found-one-got-one.
"Bad positionin'. They're surrounded, an' we have th' high ground. Poor plannin'." Arothand Lightsworn's observations were honestly right on the mark, when he had a moment free to make them. He stood on a paraphet directly ahead of the blue troll, peering down over the edge of keep's wall to where one of the bodies had fallen.
Xenarr shifted his weight against the silithid, half lounging himself onto it. It hissed in agitation again, clawed, scythe-like limbs clicking against the stone of the rampart as it pushed back against the added load. "I'm thinkin' these fellas ain't gonna get very far. Dunno why 'Liance gather up here. Awful location."
Next it was Raoul's turn to sound bored, even as flashes of magic lit up one of the walls on the far side of Fenris Keep. Leave it to an Archmage of the Kirin Tor to sound perfectly composed even while calling fire down on an enemy. "You would think they would learn to stop launching attacks from here." There was a soft 'tsk' from the man over that communication line, and the slightest pause as flickering flames again leapt from the other side of the wall. "Not very creative."
Eventually Xenarr moved to join in the fun, but by far and large kept his distance, using the opportunity to just be an irritation. Silithid in someone's face here, an annoying block of ice there. Barely any need to go out of his way, in as much as the others had it so easily handled. It was better that way, anyway, as far as the hunter was concerned. His reactions were not half so quick as they used to be, and years were gradually starting to catch up on him.
Still. It was fun in the end.
More amusing yet when someone got the wise idea that, if only to add insult to injury, some of the illusions that the Archmage wove be drawn in the striking images of notable Gilneans who were taken by the Forsaken. What better way to drive in the lesson that the wolves would never have a chance at putting any true scratches into Lordaeron's outlier territories? Such satirical jabbing apparently did not go unnoticed, either.
Tap. Tap.
Taptaptap.
A blue troll, Xenarr, leaned aside on an oversized silithid which chittered and shifted its weight, the insectoid creature agitated. It hated the damp chill of eastern Lordaeron. It hated Alliance. It particularly hated when the troll tapped on top of its shell in abject boredom.
"One dead an' they go home?" A harsh voice, Lightsworn's, crackled from a gadget held in the troll's hand.
"I certainly hope not." The more refined, subtly Dalaran accented tones of Archmage Zharikov answered.
The troll himself spoke up in a snickering growl, flicking a switch back and forth on the device. "Doubt it."
He hardly cared enough about some abandoned island to really have his interest piqued by sniping poorly organized wolves in the woods. It was for posterity. Assaults against Horde territory could simply not be allowed to go unanswered. Announced attacks near a major city were to be dealt with swiftly, brutally, and with cunning efficiency.
While the would-be attackers bored him nearly to tears, listening to the clipped communication of his own comrades grew entertaining. Concise, short, and organized, they called locations and swept out to follow targets of interest. It started to become a game. Found-one-got-one.
"Bad positionin'. They're surrounded, an' we have th' high ground. Poor plannin'." Arothand Lightsworn's observations were honestly right on the mark, when he had a moment free to make them. He stood on a paraphet directly ahead of the blue troll, peering down over the edge of keep's wall to where one of the bodies had fallen.
Xenarr shifted his weight against the silithid, half lounging himself onto it. It hissed in agitation again, clawed, scythe-like limbs clicking against the stone of the rampart as it pushed back against the added load. "I'm thinkin' these fellas ain't gonna get very far. Dunno why 'Liance gather up here. Awful location."
Next it was Raoul's turn to sound bored, even as flashes of magic lit up one of the walls on the far side of Fenris Keep. Leave it to an Archmage of the Kirin Tor to sound perfectly composed even while calling fire down on an enemy. "You would think they would learn to stop launching attacks from here." There was a soft 'tsk' from the man over that communication line, and the slightest pause as flickering flames again leapt from the other side of the wall. "Not very creative."
Eventually Xenarr moved to join in the fun, but by far and large kept his distance, using the opportunity to just be an irritation. Silithid in someone's face here, an annoying block of ice there. Barely any need to go out of his way, in as much as the others had it so easily handled. It was better that way, anyway, as far as the hunter was concerned. His reactions were not half so quick as they used to be, and years were gradually starting to catch up on him.
Still. It was fun in the end.
More amusing yet when someone got the wise idea that, if only to add insult to injury, some of the illusions that the Archmage wove be drawn in the striking images of notable Gilneans who were taken by the Forsaken. What better way to drive in the lesson that the wolves would never have a chance at putting any true scratches into Lordaeron's outlier territories? Such satirical jabbing apparently did not go unnoticed, either.
Edited by Xenarr on 2/7/2012 6:37 PM PST
That was it.
That -paladin-.
Despite all his time working with the Crusade, the very sight of that !@#$% - especially in his Dark Lady's lands - made Arothand seethe, fists clenching, teeth long ago sharpened by cannibalistic tendencies tearing at his lower lip.
The taste of blood, after so many months of swearing off his old habits, was the last straw. Arothand all but shot off of his black drake, letting loose a carnal roar as he flew onto the docks.
He vaguely heard Raoul call after him - that accent was almost as hard to miss as his own -, but even the voice of his old friend did not soothe him at this point. There was only one target. The old teachings of undeath were kicking in.
Disarm.
Maim.
Kill.
Reactions proved automatic for Arothand. He did not even take notice of the others wailing on his armor, tearing at him as he all but flung himself at the Paladin.
At some point, he was fairly certain the other Razortalons landed, picking the others off of him before they inflicted too much damage.
That hardly mattered, however. He struck until she fell, and then he struck again, and again, and again. It took every ounce of self control he had to pull himself away from ripping into flesh with his teeth - that, and a good ounce of help from the Archmage Zharikov, shooshing and patting the man.
Everything after that was automatic. A blur. More corpses, more blood. Nothing noteworthy.
Eventually, Arothand took a moment to rest atop the hill next to Xenarr. This new training tired him out quickly, and for the first time in years, he needed to stop to catch his - very metaphorical - breath.
The older Troll had been taking the higher ground throughout the entire course of all the fighting, and while Aro had not exactly been in the mindset to pay attention, the hunter did not seem to be doing much.
From the way the man drummed his fingers along the top of his knee-padding, as he boredly tossed a frost trap at a fleeing Dwarf, his assumption was probably fairly accurate.
"'Ow many is that, Lightsworn?" The blue hunter half-crooned, half-chuckled, watching the frozen Dwarf with a distinct pride. He even went so far as to mumble something about a 'good shot' beneath his breath.
"Thirteen, sir. Countin' those who have ressurected once, na' countin' those who have come back more." Aro muttered in return, lifting a hand to rub at his face, as if trying to clear a migraine. He turned to watch the Dwarf as well, grunting. "Let 'em go."
"Wot? Why?" In an oddly catlike motion, the Troll tipped his head to the side, scratching at his chin.
"Wildhammer. Explains the stubborn-^-* behavior. Keeps on attacking us no matter how many times we kick his !@#. Also, he's usin' th' spirits. Let 'em go."
Shrugging, Xenarr gave the order over the Razortalons' comms to let the Dwarf flee with the battered remnants of his companions. Arothand nodded in approval, letting out a final, barked roar at the fleeing Alliance.
"VICTORY FOR SYLVANAS!"
That -paladin-.
Despite all his time working with the Crusade, the very sight of that !@#$% - especially in his Dark Lady's lands - made Arothand seethe, fists clenching, teeth long ago sharpened by cannibalistic tendencies tearing at his lower lip.
The taste of blood, after so many months of swearing off his old habits, was the last straw. Arothand all but shot off of his black drake, letting loose a carnal roar as he flew onto the docks.
He vaguely heard Raoul call after him - that accent was almost as hard to miss as his own -, but even the voice of his old friend did not soothe him at this point. There was only one target. The old teachings of undeath were kicking in.
Disarm.
Maim.
Kill.
Reactions proved automatic for Arothand. He did not even take notice of the others wailing on his armor, tearing at him as he all but flung himself at the Paladin.
At some point, he was fairly certain the other Razortalons landed, picking the others off of him before they inflicted too much damage.
That hardly mattered, however. He struck until she fell, and then he struck again, and again, and again. It took every ounce of self control he had to pull himself away from ripping into flesh with his teeth - that, and a good ounce of help from the Archmage Zharikov, shooshing and patting the man.
Everything after that was automatic. A blur. More corpses, more blood. Nothing noteworthy.
Eventually, Arothand took a moment to rest atop the hill next to Xenarr. This new training tired him out quickly, and for the first time in years, he needed to stop to catch his - very metaphorical - breath.
The older Troll had been taking the higher ground throughout the entire course of all the fighting, and while Aro had not exactly been in the mindset to pay attention, the hunter did not seem to be doing much.
From the way the man drummed his fingers along the top of his knee-padding, as he boredly tossed a frost trap at a fleeing Dwarf, his assumption was probably fairly accurate.
"'Ow many is that, Lightsworn?" The blue hunter half-crooned, half-chuckled, watching the frozen Dwarf with a distinct pride. He even went so far as to mumble something about a 'good shot' beneath his breath.
"Thirteen, sir. Countin' those who have ressurected once, na' countin' those who have come back more." Aro muttered in return, lifting a hand to rub at his face, as if trying to clear a migraine. He turned to watch the Dwarf as well, grunting. "Let 'em go."
"Wot? Why?" In an oddly catlike motion, the Troll tipped his head to the side, scratching at his chin.
"Wildhammer. Explains the stubborn-^-* behavior. Keeps on attacking us no matter how many times we kick his !@#. Also, he's usin' th' spirits. Let 'em go."
Shrugging, Xenarr gave the order over the Razortalons' comms to let the Dwarf flee with the battered remnants of his companions. Arothand nodded in approval, letting out a final, barked roar at the fleeing Alliance.
"VICTORY FOR SYLVANAS!"
Edited by Arothand on 2/7/2012 6:56 PM PST
Rumbles of an engine could be heard from the south. The Worgen hunter charged the engine of her rocket to full speed closing in on the Keep handing the dwarf behind her a temporary communicator. A crackling then a dark voice came over her comm. "The Horde has arrived early and are coming from the north of the Keep!" Aorune shouting his warning to the hunter and shaman. They soon landed in front of the Keep watching as the group was being overwhelmed by Horde. Poor planning and lateness was executed on the pack's part. She growled as a guard in front of her was shot with an arrow coming from on top of one of the towers. Firing back she orders her Worg to stand guard in front of the entrance.
"Blasted Horde has us surrounded! They have the roof of the Keep!" Luptia shouted over the communicator to the rest of the group. Fire rained from above the other tower. Moving swiftly Luptia climbed the side of the tower firing with a small pistol at the Mage. A wave of fire over came her causing her to fall. The Horde group was made of experenced warriors but were showing their age in battle. A large group arrived at the docks they stood calmly as if they were waiting for someone. Soon a dark shadow formed appeared, it was Lord Godfrey.
The pack had scattered as Lord Godfrey unleashed his dark magic on them. Luptia ran off calling her Worg to her side as they camouflaged into their surroundings. She reappeared near the shores. A muffled voiced came over her communicator "Over here, Lassie!" as the Dwarf waved from under Lordamere Lake. She smirked. "Clever man!" Luptia watched camoflaged as Lord Godfrey searched the waters with his minions and the Horde.
"We'll have to have to retreat if we want to save our hides for another day. We were not prepared for Lord Godfrey!" Luptia said over her comm. Swimming to the shores of Hillsbrad Foothills the pack retreats north. After arriving at a small camp Aorune writes a note handing it to Luptia to send off to Fenris Keep for the Horde. She calls her bald eagle to her side ordering him to deliver the note to Fenris Keep. ((Aorune's Post above is the note :) ))
(( OOC Post ))
Thanks for showing up today! I didn't expected so many Horde players to stop by in game and on the forum topic! It was a great time even though we lost in the end. :P I hope my post was good enough for yall.
One question, how'd you guys get Lord Godfrey to attack us? I'm still new to WoW and was just wondering. You caused me some confusion and I thought it was the actual dungeon boss. Pretty awesome attack you guys had. But we'll get you back soon enough. :P Would you guys like to do this more often?
"Blasted Horde has us surrounded! They have the roof of the Keep!" Luptia shouted over the communicator to the rest of the group. Fire rained from above the other tower. Moving swiftly Luptia climbed the side of the tower firing with a small pistol at the Mage. A wave of fire over came her causing her to fall. The Horde group was made of experenced warriors but were showing their age in battle. A large group arrived at the docks they stood calmly as if they were waiting for someone. Soon a dark shadow formed appeared, it was Lord Godfrey.
The pack had scattered as Lord Godfrey unleashed his dark magic on them. Luptia ran off calling her Worg to her side as they camouflaged into their surroundings. She reappeared near the shores. A muffled voiced came over her communicator "Over here, Lassie!" as the Dwarf waved from under Lordamere Lake. She smirked. "Clever man!" Luptia watched camoflaged as Lord Godfrey searched the waters with his minions and the Horde.
"We'll have to have to retreat if we want to save our hides for another day. We were not prepared for Lord Godfrey!" Luptia said over her comm. Swimming to the shores of Hillsbrad Foothills the pack retreats north. After arriving at a small camp Aorune writes a note handing it to Luptia to send off to Fenris Keep for the Horde. She calls her bald eagle to her side ordering him to deliver the note to Fenris Keep. ((Aorune's Post above is the note :) ))
(( OOC Post ))
Thanks for showing up today! I didn't expected so many Horde players to stop by in game and on the forum topic! It was a great time even though we lost in the end. :P I hope my post was good enough for yall.
One question, how'd you guys get Lord Godfrey to attack us? I'm still new to WoW and was just wondering. You caused me some confusion and I thought it was the actual dungeon boss. Pretty awesome attack you guys had. But we'll get you back soon enough. :P Would you guys like to do this more often?
Edited by Luptia on 2/7/2012 9:19 PM PST
(( I know Razortalons as a whole tends to show up to defend in RP-PvP fights, whomever sets them up. Raoul put together the defense this time, as he has an in-character vested interest in the defense of the Forsaken's lands.
Godfrey was a bit of a surprise to even us. It turns out that in the course of the Silverpine quests, Godfrey and his bunch follow you around helping you out (before turning on you, and becoming the bosses for SFK).
The Orc warrior, Krinda, was still on those quests, without realizing it. It was pretty amusing when we figured it out. ))
Godfrey was a bit of a surprise to even us. It turns out that in the course of the Silverpine quests, Godfrey and his bunch follow you around helping you out (before turning on you, and becoming the bosses for SFK).
The Orc warrior, Krinda, was still on those quests, without realizing it. It was pretty amusing when we figured it out. ))
(( That explains everything. Well I think he played well into a Forsaken-Worgen battle, great for story line but bad for us Alliance players. We would have lasted much longer without him around. :P There is always next time I suppose.))
((I have to apologize. I knew I had some business to tend to about that time and hadn't planned on logging in. However, someone from Pia said help was needed in a message so I logged in. And, as I feared, the business emails started pouring in and I had to respond. I was afk quite a bit of the time when I wasn't running back to my corpse. I'll try to put up a better fight next time.))
(( <3 Godfrey and his stooges ))
(( I really must start writing down these events in my calendar because I missed this one too. x.x
RAOUL NEXT TIME POKE ME ON AIM. KKTHX))
RAOUL NEXT TIME POKE ME ON AIM. KKTHX))
(( Yeah, I totally forgot I was on that quest chain or was working on it. To any I may of /spat or spit at by Krinda (which at that time she was playing the part of a random passer by orc, due to she was out in Nagrand) take no offense ooc, ( I just didn't want to miss out on some Alliance bashing). I role play a orc as very Alliance hating, so I /taunt , /rude and /spit alot in battles. Also hope some of the holes I made in your bodies heal quickly, I tend to impale the Orgrimmar banner in to the defeated Alliance.
Edited by Krinda on 2/8/2012 1:34 PM PST
(( No harm done, Krinda! These things happen at times. :D And no offense was taken. So /taunt and /spit all you like, I'll just return the favor. :P
We are planning for another event next Tuesday so for any one missing this week's event you can always make it to next week's :) ))
We are planning for another event next Tuesday so for any one missing this week's event you can always make it to next week's :) ))
(( Luptia, I believe Tuesdays would be a bad night, as the Doctas also hold their Clinic, but hopefully I'll be around. :-) ))
No harm done, Krinda! These things happen at times. :D And no offense was taken. So /taunt and /spit all you like, I'll just return the favor. :P
((Actually, Pia has some pretty firm rules about this. We don't do it and tend to avoid fights where people we are with are doing them and the !@#$%^-*!@ crap. No blue flagging, no corpse camping and no rude emotes etc. Of course, our rules only apply to us, but it will color how much we participate.
Aracelli is correct, Tuesdays are not the best. AAMS is no longer doing Caer Darrow on Thursdays, though.))
Edited by Gentyl on 2/9/2012 1:04 AM PST
(( Razortalons is full of a lotta folk who would spit on someone in a battle, but that's just IC. Fine line between players and character, there. Lot of people embittered against the Alliance over the year, provokes what could be considered dirty fighting on an IC basis.
However, there's also a difference between a /spit after a fight and spamming, and blueflagging. IC is IC, but the latter two are general OOC douchebaggery and disruptive to other's actual gameplay, something we avoid. ))
However, there's also a difference between a /spit after a fight and spamming, and blueflagging. IC is IC, but the latter two are general OOC douchebaggery and disruptive to other's actual gameplay, something we avoid. ))
((I'm just an outside observer that reads these threads for fun, but I'll de-lurk for a moment to just say this. I think that corpse-flag-planting and rude emotes like /spit and the like are disgusting whether you're in character or not, and seem to only exist to spotlight immature internet "douchbaggery", just as Arothand said. If you're doing it OOC, well, you're just another internet jerk. If you're doing it IC, then you're an internet jerk that takes the lazy approach to roleplay by typing a 5-character slashcommand.
Frankly, if I were to take a leap and become active in an RP, seeing rude emotes and such would immediately turn me off and I'd leave.
If you're roleplaying as a bitter member of your faction that has so little respect for the avatars on the opposing side, then be original and manually type an original emote that your side can read. You can freely disrespect the characters, but /spit comes across more often as disrespect for the real human players on the other side of the monitor.))
Frankly, if I were to take a leap and become active in an RP, seeing rude emotes and such would immediately turn me off and I'd leave.
If you're roleplaying as a bitter member of your faction that has so little respect for the avatars on the opposing side, then be original and manually type an original emote that your side can read. You can freely disrespect the characters, but /spit comes across more often as disrespect for the real human players on the other side of the monitor.))
Edited by Karadine on 2/9/2012 3:28 AM PST
((So do Thursday raids instead?))
EDIT: And about all this (not so) banter going around, I am impartial to spitting, rudeness, etc. I expect that from a well-played, Alliance-hating Orc. Corpse camping turned me off to the whole event though, but meh. I managed. Really....
Aorune Fireblade pouts in a corner because no one listened to their raid leader.
EDIT: And about all this (not so) banter going around, I am impartial to spitting, rudeness, etc. I expect that from a well-played, Alliance-hating Orc. Corpse camping turned me off to the whole event though, but meh. I managed. Really....
Aorune Fireblade pouts in a corner because no one listened to their raid leader.
Edited by Aorune on 2/9/2012 4:24 AM PST
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