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"He's gone...oh SRENG is gone!!!"

Dispaya's sobs echoed through the alleyways of Orgrammar from the small hut where her adopted Father made his home.

The hut was ransacked from signs of a great struggle. Blood spattered the walls along with several different forms of ichor and ooze. There had obviously been a terrible and bloody battle here sometime the night before.

Dispaya knelt over the body of the large Red Raptor that lay dead at her feet. Meathook had fought to the death for his master and had continued to fight even when his wounds were terminal. Dispaya cradled the dead lizards head in her lap.

"Oh you fought so bravely...such a good boy...good boy...""

She pulled him close and wept.

As she patted his nose she caught sight of something clenched in the large lizard's teeth.
Gently she pryed it loose and turned the small token over in her palm.

A scourgestone.


OOC: The first step is to collect rightous orbs. We will also be looking for any information from Scourge sources and the Argent Dawn. Several of us will be making runs into Strath to see what can be discovered. Please check with myself, Valtrinity, Cloud or Uglawha (Robn) if you want to join a run. More to come...
Sing True Ironsong!
"Growls as he listens to Dispaya." Me and Robn gonna go hunt Scourge ! We's gonna find him for yah sis!
The Scourge will burn from my holy fire and perish from a volley of Mokimi's Arrows.

Uglawha and Robn, we will join you in the search for clues. Someone or something will pay for this...

*Eruadans body begin burning with a white holy light as he approaches Stratholme, followed by Mokimi and Honor...both with a look of focus and dedication to the task of finding clues to their Warlords whereabouts.*
*Senthris hangs up his cloak on the cloak rack in his office in Silvermoon and drops dejectedly into his chair, rubbing his temples* This is not what I expected...not in the least bit..not only is Sreng missing but...*he stops and looks around, deciding he better not say anything out-loud, too risky, even here* I'll tell the tribe at the moot..yes..that would be best, they should all know at the same time. *He takes a quill pen and a piece of paper, jotting down notes furiously, he then takes the paper and puts it in an envelope and seals it with the seal of the Barrister* Perhaps the rogues Naamah and Lucinther will be able to shed more light on this and I can give a better report to the tribe..
*red swirls of mist begin forming around Dispaya in Sreng's hut, and the room takes on an icy chill in the blistering heat of northern Durotar*
*a few moments later the red mists swirl into a shimmering red portal and the rogue Naamah steps through, swords drawn, and the mists dissipate*

*Naamah takes a look around and sees the distraught from of Dispaya huddled near the corpse of the raptor* Dispaya? *puts her swords away seeing she was to late* I didn't make it on time *frowns* I am sorry Dispaya.

A few days ago I had a meeting with a mage of some power named Senthris, he mentioned that military assistance was needed in an investigation of some missing officials. He, through my superior, tasked me to find out what happened to them and get them back.

Although the specifics of my investigation are still classified, the indications pointed that they would come after Sreng next, I found this out moments ago Dispaya. The red shade known as "Krass" helped me get here as quickly as I could.

I see Sreng is missing now as well as the officials. this is a mess. I will offer any assistance to the Ironsong Tribe that I can. The military has authorized me to use any means necessary to bring about a resolution and return the officials, *Naamah's eye narrow* and now Sreng.

*rests her hand on Dispaya's shoulder* I assure you, I WILL do what it takes to find him, whether I do it alone or with the Ironsong's help, these abductions will be resolved. Sreng is...my friend, I will not sit idly by and let him be tortured by the Scourge.

I will deliver my findings on Thursday at the guild moot.

*naamah walks out into the heat of the Durotaran midday and seems to be pushing off a wave anger that rivals the heat itself*
The girl had been lost in the plaguelands for several days before staggering into the camp at Light's Hope Chapel.

An Argent Dawn scout spied her and rushed to her as she collapsed in his arms. He turned the girl over and saw that she was a troll female...blue of skin tone...yet her features were somewhat strange.

Too weak to speak she uttered only a single word...

Sing True Ironsong!
Efluvious visited the hut of Sreng'jin in the middle of the night. As he sifted through the wreckage slowly he talked to himself, yet only the half-moon heard his ramblings.

"...this one is nice. Nice bone, all white an' clean. F'ee of muscles. Why do's we fight? F'eedom? I's never f'ee. Sreng he's a nice troll, is he f'ee? I's not know. Seems he isn't f'ee though. Efluvia used to always tell me "You's never gonna be f'ee slave! You's always gonna serb somebody!" Mebe she had the right...

...I's dunno, I's just doing my fing. I do's mine and everybody else do's theirs. but...mebe...somebody controls us all? Nononono, voice is back. voice always comes back. I do's what it says an' it goes away so I do it now. Nonono, I do's it I do's it! Master don' control me, but he hurts me, so I do's what Master says when I must. I do's it..I do's AIEEE..."

The unholy howl pierced the night and filled the sky for a few brief moments before all fell silent once more. Efluvious hobbled off back to the Undercity to await his time for action. Against or for whom? Not even he knew.
"Passion and shame torment him, and rage is mingled with his grief."

[Image: playerfeed_1902018_bigsig.gif]
((I'm feeling particularly daring in posting this, my apologies if it's awful!))

Above the small pond that graced Sun Rock Retreat, she sat perched upon a fallen tree trunk. Digging small, smooth stones from one of her pockets, idly Sound skipped them across the quiet, stagnant water. She stopped every so often to inhale the aromas of roasting Mud Snappers that were baking upon the gazing fires in the thatched hut beside her. Still shivering despite the layers of garments and vests that laid between her skin and the oddly warm evening, she had been pointedly breathing with every ounce of calamity she could muster in the news of recent events. For a moment though as Sound rested there, she took a particularly deep breath of a gust of tepid, seasoned air that swirled by and held it in as she tightly and frantically grasped at a handful of stones deep within her pocket. For a fleeting moment she needed something sure to hold onto.

A hand soon pressed upon her back and she heard the words, “Sound, breath! You’re near blue! …Sound!” quickly said near and nodded her head, unwillingly exhaling and inhaling slowly. Turning to her friend, Maggran, who had been standing near by, Sound managed a weak smile despite the current situation. Seconds turned into minutes as they then both gazed to the rapidly setting sun above the peak before she spoke.

“Have you ever felt that you couldn’t be sure of anything?”
“How do you mean?”
“Beyond the will the Earthmother has on these lands, beyond the changes of winter to spring and the sunset which sets upon that peak to the north of us, but inside yourself and what you feel is true, steady and sure. That.”
“We all do from time to time, Sound.”
“But the very center of what you find that is true, steady and sure in amongst a Tribe that is your family, heart and soul, if it’s been taken.. be it killed, captured or anything. How can you ever be sure of that again?”
“Well.. there’s hope. There always will be hope.”
“And there’s also a point in that at which you can be naïve.”
“No, Maggran. He’s GONE. He’s not off on some fishing excursion or a trip to Booty Bay to drink them dry, Meathook is DEAD. Do you understand that?”
“Yes.. I just..”
“You just what, Maggran? Want me to sit here and hope?”
“Sound, there’s no telling those looking for him won’t meet the exact same fate.”
“But to sit here..?”
“You will be safe, the last thing Sreng would want..”
“NO,” she bellowed, cutting him off. “Enough!”
In one quick movement, Sound jumped to her feet, dove into the air and midway, transformed into a dark mahogany, sleek hawk. Stopping for a moment she glanced back at Maggran with piercing yellow eyes. Maggran nodded sadly to the Druid as she jetted off quietly and swiftly into the growing night. Flying higher and higher into blackening sky, she whispered in Taurahe to the crisper air, “Sreng...”.
Stopping now midair in thought, the slowly rising moon silhouetted Sound’s hawken frame. Rising her mighty wings up and down with the world at her feet, she became sure of what she must do next. After arching her head back and shrilly shrieking to the wide, open sky, fluidly and fiercely Sound dove towards the east. She would cover every single inch of the Plaugelands if she to had to this evening. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
((I thought that was great sound you shouldn't worry looks like you have quite some talent with literature.))
Kosath, the great Tauren stood looking over the landscape with a troubled brow. The alert had come from Dispaya a few days earlier. The Warlord was gone...presumed dead...but there was no way to be sure without finding his body. Presumably the Scourge had struck and taken him away to be destroyed so he could not be resurrected. His pet Meathook had been left dead at the scene. It was a dark day for Ironsong.

For all of the Warlord's eccentricity, Kosath loved the sly troll. Sreng's quick wit and bravery in the heat of battle were now legendary in the Horde lands. How would the tribe go on without him? Who would now carry the mantle of leadership? He felt fairly certain the tribe would look to him in Sreng's absence...but he was a humble brave and not certain that taking leadership of the tribe was what would satisfy him. He was foremost a warrior and had no aspirations to become a diplomat.

"Lord Kosath...I am sorry to disurb your meditations..."

Kosath turned to face Cloudjumper...now one of Ironsong's chief advisor's.

"Eh...no worries Cloud...what do you seek?"

"There is a messenger here for you...he is an...ummm...human."

"A hu-man? Here?"

"He wears the tabbard of the Argent Dawn."

Kosath had long served the Argent's as one of their chief agents in the Plaguelands. The Argent Dawn was one of the few factions in all the world who understood the importance of standing together against a common enemy despite any racial predjudices.

"Show him in."

The messenger came and bowed in respect to the great Tauren who towered above him. Cloud watched from a distance as Kosath and the messenger exchanged words after which the human bowed again and just as quickly departed.

"Cloud...Sreng may yet be alive."

Cloud felt his heart swell at the sound of Kosath's words.

"What? How?"

"I will need you to journey to Light's Hope Chapel in the Plaguelands. There is a Troll girl there who knows more. Go and find out what she knows. Go right away."

Cloudjumper left without a moments hesitation. If there was word of Sreng, he would find out...but he would not go alone.
Sing True Ironsong!

Cloudjumper assembles a small group to travel to the Plaguelands at Kosath's request.
YOU are among those chosen.

Just one day later a small company of Ironsongers ride's hastily into the Light's Hope camp in the Plaguelands. Among them number the Lady Dispaya, adopted daughter of the Warlord.

Alongside stands Cloudjumper, Druid and advisor to the great tribe, and with him Krell the hunter, Veramorla the warrior, and Uglawha the blooded.
You are there as well.

Cloud speaks briefly with the Argent leaders and your group is taken to the basement infirmary of the Chapel. There you are surrounded by those Dawn agents who have been injured in battle with the Scourge. They lay on a series of cots that line the large basement...healing from all manor of foul wounds and rots. Nurses of various races tend to them as they scurry back and forth on their nurse errands.

In the corner of the room is a troll girl with skin the color of blue ice.
It is to her that your group is directed.


OOC: The Troll girl's name is Anthora
She will be at Light's Hope Chapel Mon-Wed evenings this week.
Go speak to her to find out more...

PS: Really nice writing...thanks to everyone who is participating.
Sound...your post was awesome...have faith in yourself *smiles*
Sing True Ironsong!
Lucinther stood in the shadows of Light's Hope Chapel. He wanted to talk to the troll girl, but, as was habit, he would wait until he had the chance to talk to her alone. He would wait until nightfall when most of the tribe would be sleeping.
With the rest of his Shadow Guard scattered throughout the plaguelands looking for the missing Warlord, Lucinther simply waited in the shadows for night to come.
[Image: 3994085VvROm.png]
*Eruadan stands at Lights Hope Chapel, waiting patiently. He nods to Bloodbound as she approaches, and soon after he finds himself greeting Grazak.*

"Come here, members of Ironsong" said the icy blue Troll whom they came to know as Anthora.

*Eruadan, Bloodbound, and Grazak stood there listening intently to what she had to say, very little did they interupt her for fear they might miss something crucial yet they were ready in case the scourge attacked.*

"I am weary and I must rest..." Anthora spoke when she had finished.

*Eruadan gives her his blessing, wishing her a swift recovery. He looks to Grazak and Bloodbound with focus*

"Ironsong must know what has been said here..."
"Always late, always the last to know."

Russetdawn muttered and sighed to herself as she stood at the entrance of Sreng's hut, hesitant to enter, afraid to disturb what little remained of the event. If only she wasn't so bent on doing her own thing all the time, if only she had been around more, then maybe things might be different. A light shake of her head, and the huntress trilled a soft note. Dusk's Edge, the great crimson and midnight-blue falcon, lifted her wings and rose from Russetdawn's shoulder to alight upon the crown of Sreng's hut. The huntress entered as one might a tomb.

Meathook's body was gone, taken away under Krell's care or so the rumors said. Russetdawn crouched by the bloody stains left by the body and alighted her fingers upon the cool, rust-red blotches matting the floor. Maybe she could help there, fetch a tincture from a spirit warden or call in one of the many favors that the Apothecaries owed her. Her gaze narrowed, a part of her was loath to trust the latter.

The tauren's eyes shifted up and about Sreng's dwelling, nose wrinkling at the sour odors left from scant days before. Even days old and growing stale, she couldn't mistake the ichor left by Scourge bodies in the throws of being hewn or mutilated. Scourge...or Forsaken. Maybe that's how they made it so far into Orgrimmar, the seat of Thrall and home of guards far too use to assault. Either Forsaken, or under the guise of one of Sylvanas' own. An inward sigh, even true Forsaken have their rogues. Only a fool would believe they all bent their knee to the Banshee Queen. Too many options, not enough clues.

"So now what?"

Of course, the Scourgestone. Maybe they'd get lucky, and the answer any fool could see would be the right one just to smack them all in the face. Russetdawn rose and turned, her Sunfury bow unlatched and shrugged into her left hand in one smooth motion. At the very least, it gave her a direction and a target to vent her frustrations and budding rage upon. Something that, no matter how many notches she claimed and no matter how unrelenting or unmerciful she became, she would never feel regret. That sure knowledge worried her the most.

The huntress departed.

A bird of prey rose into the star-speckled sky, circled once - a dark shadow looming above - and veered east.
Lady Shandris had rode through Silvermoon for a little under an hour before she finally found the place she was looking for the Barrister Senthris Darkstrider's Office; though she had known the Barrister from many different Royalty Functions she rarely ever came to this part of silvermoon prefering to be out and battleing for the sake of her people than the more legal responcabilitys of royalty but this time there was a great need for she had information about the Warlord Sreng that Senthris needed to know. She dismounted and lashed Blazerunners reins to a post outside before she entered. As she walked through the door she looked around at all the books and scrolls it took her a minute to find Senthris behind towers of papers and walked up to him. She Hailed the Barrister and quickly proceded to tell him all the information the troll Anthora told her. "Still I think this is a trap and we best be prepared." she said as she left to go continue with her investigations.

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