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The Invasion Begins....
#1
((Open RP...read each part to understand what is happening. At the end of the last post if no one is addressed directly it is open for anyone to respond. If you choose to address a character directly at the end of your post it is the responsibility of that person to respond appropriately and your responsibility to let them know they need to post a response. This is a great oportunity for us to be creative and see what kind of story branches out....dont be shy and take a chance!))


Its morning and the sun rises. Eru'Adan of the Ironsong tribe enters the guild hall. It is empty aside from the tables and chairs laid about the large area. He approaches a table close to his room. He removes the Tabard of the Argent Dawn that he wears when fighting the Scourge and lays it in a pile on the table. Unclasping his mantle from his shoulders he shrugs his shoulders and lets it fall to the ground making a loud thud as it lands. He sits on a chair and leans back, hanging his head. His long white mane drapes over his face as he brings a hand up to cover it. Massaging his temples with his thumb and forefinger he begins to think to himself...

"What is happening? Where is the light in all this darkness? Never have I seen such pain and horror. Women and children being ravaged by these mindless beasts. Men being turned into them by a mysterious plague. Cities and towns are being overrun..."

Eru'Adan looks up around the room, for the first time he feels a slight sense of fear and felt the need to ensure there are no Scourge around him. He pans the room with his eyes. The walls of the guild hall are littered with rooms. Some are occupied by his tribesmates, others are empty because they are on missions and fighting the threat. Some of these rooms are there as monuments to tribesmates who have passed on to another existence. He sits there staring past the table in front of him...

"Good, they arent here. The halls of Ironsong are safe from this threat...for now. What can we do? Their numbers grow at an exponential rate to the point where their numbers are greater than our own. Azeroth is constantly under attack by the Neropoli spawning mindless minions and evil spirits. I dont know what to do. My tribesmates are fighting...but is it enough? Some are conserving their strength for the greater enemy, while others are fighting so hard they are risking themeselves by continuing to fight. Poor Dispaya, she has worked herself so hard...I feel a great pity she is forced to confront this enemy again..."

Eru'Adan begins to think about his brother. Would he face him again? Will he have to kill him? Will his brother remember the bond they had shared and be saved? Eru'Adan gets up and pours himself some wine. He has never indulged himself in spirits but the pressure of this enemy has forced Eru'Adan to find some release. He walks around the guild hall, stretching out his neck and back. He thinks about the words of his father, Cael'Adan, when he was about to head to the temple he was to train at....

"Eru'Adan my son. There are still great menaces in this world and we must all do our part to protect the things we cherish. The light you possess will help you protect the ones you love. I love you my son...."

The image of that moment fades in Eru'Adans mind. He begins to think about the things he cherishes most...

"Ironsong..."

Eru'Adan looks up in focus. He has devoted himself to the tribe and he is determined to protect it. He hears the latch on the doors to the guild halls. He places a hand on his gavel, prepared to defend himself if the one who enters is hostile.

The door opens...and it is Faeriel. Eru'Adan looks with concern into her face and sits back down at his table covering his face with his hand again.
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#2
Faeriel wandered the streets of Shattrah City curing who she could. She was both cold and tired. In the past days she had gotten little rest.

A sickly Orc woman crawled from the shadows and grabbed at her ankle. Faeriel jumped with a start.

"Please priestess...please..." she gasped.

Faeriel reached forward and began to utter a spell to cure the woman, when the orc suddenly lurched forward and bit her leg. Faeriel withdrew with a loud squeal. The orc woman began laughing as she lay feverish in the street.

The elf girl composed herself and re-cast her spell. The Orc woman gasped as white light surrounded her, and then fell into a deep sleep. Now more exhausted than ever Faeriel limped away finally ducking out of sight into a nearby alleyway. A small group of plague Zombies slowly shambled up the street in her direction. They stopped to sniff the air, but she was quiet and so they continued on their way. She was safe for now.

Fae's leg hurt. She propped herself against a nearby wall and looked at the wound. It had already begun to fester and the tattoo on the back of her neck began to burn. A fever came upon her suddenly as well. She concentrated on a spell to purify herself. Her first attempt failed but her second succeeded. A surge of magical light encircled her. The plague was cured and she would be alright for now, but the week's events were beginning to take a toll on her. Still delirious from the bite she headed towards the Ironsong Guild Hall. She heard shouting in the streets and cries of citizens in pain, but she had done all she could to help this day.

The hall was strangely enpty save for one. Eru'adan, her long time friend and mentor sat looking pale and tired at one of the long tables. He looked up at her as she entered and then looked back down into a cup of something he was nursing.

She approached him quietly. No words were exchanged as the two were both so very weary. There was nothing that needed to be explained.

Faeriel poured herself a drink from a nearby keg and plopped down next to Eru'adan. She raised her mug in a toast and then took a long "gulp" of the beverage. She then leaned her head on his shoulder and started to cry.

A familier voice then sounded from nearby. The two were not alone after all.

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