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I invite you to post your Wrath Gate Narrations for everyone to read:

The Battle for Lordaeron is over. The Day has been won...but at what cost? The tribe fought bravely. As we pull ourselves together to recover on the hills outside the city...we remember the events of the past few days...and what we have seen.

We know things will never be the same.
Sing True Ironsong!
It was to be the greatest collaboration between the Horde and Alliance since the War of Shifting Sands. Where the elder Saurfang led the one, this battle would be led by Saurfang the Younger. Saurfang was to lead the Kor'kron Elite - Thrall's chosen warriors - into glorious battle against the Scourge, challenging the Lich King and throwing wide the gates to Icecrown, our final goal in Northrend.

Heroes of the Horde were summoned to the site. As the Kor'kron elite would be the spearpoint of the assault, the Horde veterans of The Ironsong Tribe were called upon for the duty and honor of holding their base at the Vanguard against the Scourge. So it was that the Ironsong Tribe bore witness to the Battle of Angrathar, some rankling at not being on point, not knowing that it was merely the precursor to a more shocking and desparate struggle.

Due to their association with the Tribe Kuskuh and the Ironsong Death Knights were assigned by the Ebon Watcher, the Ebon Hand's marshall in Icecrown, to join the Horde and Alliance at the Wrath Gate. They arrived only in time to witness betrayal. Ironsong rallied around the Dragon Queen and raced back to the strongholds of the Horde.

Thrall's call to battle brought the Tribe together before the walls of Lordaeron for their greatest challenge. Having now faced it and won, our future awaits.
Sing True Ironsong!
As the Forsaken army appeared Dispaya felt hope that all was not lost, but hope turned to shock as Forsaken soldiers seized and restrained her. She watched helplessly as the Forsaken army unleashed their new plague upon the battlefield.

Before she could do anything it was too late. Her friends would die...she could not help them. She screamed out in rage. The soldiers released her and she collapsed to the ground in tears.

Then the dragons appeared on the horizon.
The battle was over...but at what cost?
Sing True Ironsong!
Dispaya battled her way through Undercity flinging spells at all enemies that confronted her. All around her battles raged and soldiers fell. She fired spell after spell until her spirit and will were nearly exhausted.

She staggered from exhaustion and was struck from behind. The force of the blow flung her into the Undercity river. Her world spun as a great Bohemoth whirled it's chain. In her exhausted state the next blow would land and kill her.

The Bohemoth stopped in its tracks and the chain dropped. Its chest exploded as a blade of white light pierced it from behind. The creature collapsed to reveal the paladin Kardwel as he pulled his sword free from the creatures back.

With nothing more than a nod, he extended a hand to help the mage to her feet as the battle continued to rage all around them.
Sing True Ironsong!

Skrap sneaks into the demons backlines, a grin on her face as she slips through the shadows. She learned her lesson in the seige of Orgrimmar, knowing now how to combine both her specialities.

Skrap waits for the right moment. Varimathras' forces are focused on the front line battles when something rolls into the middle of them. They look down, seeing the big green painted smiley face... and then it explodes.

Skrap moves between the shadows, her location punctuated by giant explosions before she dissapears again. The Undercity may not be left in the best shape, but the demons will regret being there!
Sing True Ironsong!

Eru'Adan did participate in both parts of the wrath gate battles.

"He can hardly remember the battle at the wrath gate...He remembers healing alliance and horde alike...he remembered when the Vrykul were unleashed and Mokimi...Mokimi and Honor protected him from a Vrykul that came up from behind. She's..."

"May her spirit live on in nature..."
Sing True Ironsong!

Anca's squad of hunters and rangers perched on the cliffsides, taking sniping position to support the battle.

They saw the betrayal.

They could not prevent.

Her commander's orders were take position with the other hunters, prevent flanking maneuvers against the Horde forces. Walls of arrows to keep the betrayers at bay.

In the lowest level of the Undercity, her squad fell prey to a sudden rush. One monstrosity charged, unstoppable, crushing the hunters and scattering them. One giant, fleshy hand pounced upon the tiny Kor'kron, smashing her to the flagstones.

But instead of killing her, it gripped her close and leaped for the upper tunnel, the sewer exit. The few of her squad alive let a volley loose, but could not pursue.

The child, unable to break the grip, dropped her bow and drew her blades. Ymiron's sword fell to the ground as she was smashed against the wall, but the flensing knife bit again and again into the horrible creature's flesh. Her helmet slipped off, her pauldrons crumpled. She saw her Snuffletusk batted away, flying off into the darkness, silent.

But in the tunnel, the wounds were finally enough. The monstrosity fell, pinning the child beneath. She let out a cry, but could not get air back into her lungs. Her world turned to black.

Goldberry and Kardwel carried her tiny form back to the light.
I got creative;

((At the Kor'kron Vanguard in Dragonblight))

The great wolf stood breathing heavily, the weight of his master’s thick armour pressing down on his back. Behind them the rest of the Kor’kron riders milled about, waiting in anticipation of the battle to come.

“Prepare yourselves.” The Death Knight’s command was quickly followed, the elite troops forming ranks and drawing weapons. “The gate opens, the call will come soon.”

The riders watched as the great gate opened, a lone figured waked forth. The Lich King himself had joined the field; it seemed that fortune had smiled upon the collected host this day. A brief exchange of words, and then Saurfang the Younger charged forth, the Lich King hefted the great blade Frostmourne, and struck down the fearless Orc leader.

The assembled riders began to surge forth, “Hold!” the Hebren commanded. “We will not break ranks now, you will hold or you will be dismissed.” The Kor’kron again formed up in ranks; they were well trained and had learned to respect their new commander.

The screams were the first indication that something had gone wrong. From his vantage point on the hill Hebren could not see what was happening, all he could see was a huge cloud of green gas, and soldiers and Scourge alike falling where they stood. The cloud rolled up the hill, the screams of the dying drowned out all sounds. As the cloud approached the outpost, massive confusion broke out; people went running in all directions. Even some of the Alliance that had fled from the battle ran through, causing still more confusion as the Horde forces tried to figure out if they should attack or run.

Just as the gas was about to cross the outer wall a great roar was heard from above, an enormous red dragon flew above the wall, gout of fiery breath burning off the horrible miasma. More dragons joined the fray, and soon the entire valley before the gate was enveloped in fire. Most of the dragons flew off, however the two largest remained. As the fire died down Hebren rode down into the valley, his soldiers were more than happy to wait on the hill.

Drawing up before the towering forms of the dragon Queen Alexstrasza and her consort, Hebren felt suddenly very vulnerable. He had dealt with the Queen before, but this was the first time he had seen her in her natural dragon form. Suddenly his mind was hit with images of all that had gone on here, staggering it was all he could do to stay on his faithful wolf.

“Ride to Agmar’s Hammer hero, the Horde has urgent need of you.” The dragon Queen said as the visions ended. “Take Saurfang’s armour back to his father and tell him of all you have now seen here.”

The wolf trotted back up the hill, its dazed rider swaying in the saddle, the visions still reeling in his head. Shaking his head to clear and focus his thoughts Hebren knew what must be done now.

“We ride for Agmar’s Hammer; there is nothing further we can do here.” The company of Kor’kron rode from the outpost, the charred remains of the armies of Alliance and Horde left behind them…

((Later at the entrance to the ruins of Lordaeron))

The great Horde army stood before the entrance to the ruins of Lordaeron, the report of rifles, bows, and siege engines served to herald the grim engagement that was the come. The usurping forces hide behind the stone walls, bracing themselves for what was to come.

The Death Knight’s company of Kor’kron stood ready, vengeance etched upon their faces. Hebren surveyed the assembled host; many of the other Ironsong members could be seen throughout the distinctive black and red tabards marking them out. He had already received his orders, he was to lead his company into the heart of the fighting, their objective was to destroy the plague catapults and other siege engines the traitor forces were using.

The Warchief Thrall led the initial charge on the city ruins; he was followed closely by the Lady Sylvanas as well as several members of the Ironsong Tribe. Hebren's company came through the entrance on the heels of the Warchief, and crashed like a steel wave against the traitor forces. Over and over their weapons fell, cutting a very deep swath through the enemy ranks. The Death Knight threw special saronite bombs of his own design, many of the siege weapons were consumed in the ensuing explosions.

The thunderous sound of hooves on cobbles was the only warning before a large force of Alliance cavalry charged through, trampling Scourge and Horde alike under their hooves. Having narrowly avoided being trampled, Hebren picked himself up quickly and lead his company through the breach provided by the cavalry. The speed of the Alliance force carried them beyond the Kor’kron, who was left to cleave their way through the enclosing Scourge.

Tired and gore covered the company finally made its way into the Royal Chambers in the Undercity. Most of the fighting had already finished in this area, the bodies of many Scourge and demons lay strewn about the chamber. Leaving the Kor’kron in the charge of a junior officer Hebren gathered those tribe members present and headed for the city exit.
Etsuko - Monk
Razzlixx Blingwell - Warlock
Cloudjumper Wildmane - Druid (Inactive)
Jabadue surveyed the destruction at the Wrath Gate from his vantage point at the Kor'Kron Vanguard. Below him, the snow had started to cover the heaps of bodies from the great slaughter. All the races of Azeroth finally united in death. Soon the snows and ice of Northrend would seal the wound of the Wrath Gate, but not the anger that surged in the troll's heart. He pushed several panicked inhabitants of the vanguard out of his way, walked calmly to his wyvern, and departed for points south.
In a healing frenzy, Jabadue had been in the thick of the fighting in the Royal Quarter. His chain heals had split the air, crackling and flashing. Now, his mail more blood spattered and dirty than usual and chewing a fresh sprig of grass, he walked calmly through the wreckage of the battlefield in the courtyard of the former Lordaeron where the battle had first begun.

He came upon a small orc with both his legs broken who cried out in anguish. Jabadue knelt slowly beside him and cradled his head in his arms. "Dere, dere lil' one. Everythin' gonna be allright," he whispered. Then, he slowly circled his hands over the compound fractures and with a gentle healing wave, knitted the bones together and sealed the wounds. He, then, gave the orc a drink of water, and went on about his duties, healing and comforting the fallen forces of the Horde.

When he came upon demons or apothecaries, however, his face would break into a rictus grin and his mercies were not so kind. For the demons, dead, living, wounded, it made no matter. A quick Flame Shock and the victim would writhe in pain for a moment before curling up like a burning leaf.

He came upon a grevously wounded apothecary, whom he seemed to recognize. As with the young orc, he knelt down and cradled the undead's head in his arms. "Bartholomew, be dat you?" The former friend looked up at Jabadue, whatever substitutes for blood seeping from numerous wounds. He seemed to recognize the old troll, and started to speak, but before he could start, Jaba quickly produced a dagger from his boot and slit his throat in a clean efficient motion. As he stood, Jabadue let the limp body fall to the ground. He stood there looking at it for a moment, and then, ambled off to pay some more of the butcher's bill.
Have Mana Tide, Will Travel
Arithalia sliced through another abomination that bothered to come too close to her. Her massive axe in her arms. Klesayr panted, exhausted.

“We’ve been fighting for hours!” She hissed, slicing through another. Her mask no longer hid her pale face, nor the scar running across her dim, left eye. She yanked out her steelhawk Crossbow, knocking an arrow into it and charging arcane into its tip. She fired it at the head of an abomination, only for another to get in the way and only get shot in the shoulder. She curses and glares at it. She was about to shoot again, until she heard a cry from Klesayr. She turns her head sharply to stare at her devilsaur get crushed under the foot of a felguard.

“Klesayr!” She cried out, running toward him. A bladed hook suddenly wrapped around her stomach and jerked her toward its direction. Her eyes, wide with horror as it sliced into her flesh and knocked her to the ground, dragging her toward its owner. Klesayr cried out again as its body was beginning to crack under the pressure. As a last option, she hurled her steelhawk Crossbow at the armored demon and it found its mark into its eye, causing the huge monster to fall back slightly. Klesayr whimpered and twitched, shaking. She let out another cry as she was lifted from the stone into the air.

“We play now!” the abomination rumbled. She turned to stare at it coldly, axe nearly slipping from her grip. She offered a cold, icy smile, blood dripping from her lips. The other orcs near her were already down.

Vision blurred, she turned her head to stare at Klesayr, who had managed to crawl away from the felguard that was playing with her crossbow, now broken and battered beyond repair. Klesayr furiously whipped in a complete circle, tail throwing the demon into the sewer-like water below.

Then the sound of pads hitting the ground caught her attention. She looked up with blurred vision upon the wolf-riders. Arrows flew right past her face and imbedded into the abomination holding her. It tumbled down.

“Get the injured out of here! For the Horde!” She was barely able to register two leather covered hand picking up her weakened form.

“Where…is Kles....?” She rasped weakly. A deep voice responded.

“Oh, don’t worry elf, we’ve got your giant monster all taken care of. The Rangers have got him. We need to get you to a healer.”
(I’m also taking the opportunity to use the Wrathgate rp to reboot a character that I plan on making major use of. Hopefully you’ll all see me healing more soon!)

Comfort hung near the front of the lines, her childlike innocence still shown on her face as she channeled the light into the fighting warriors, her normal insanity focused with dire purpose for the moment. She didn’t notice the supports above, weakened from battle and explosions, as they crumbled, crushing the soldiers and demons in front of her.

Everyone stopped for a moment, an eerie quiet filling the room.

“We’re cut off.” An orc she didn’t recognize snorted, turning to look over the four trapped in the side alley of the Undercity. “Here’s what we’re going to do.” His eyes focused on Comfort, taking in the forsaken who appeared to be only in her mid-teens when she had died. “The insane priest. Fine. You and…” He pointed to a tauren shaman. “you will…”

He never finished his words. A huge claw tore through the rubble behind him, pulling him in. Blazing red eyes looked out as the horde soldiers heard rending sounds. “You… will die!”

The giant demon lunged into the small unit, laughing as it ripped a shaman apart. Comfort reached out, trying to call on the light, her eyes wide, but a sweep of the thing’s hand sent her flying back into an abandoned shop, books cascading over her. She struggled to get up as she heard the sounds of fighting and the demon’s laughter, her broken mind trying to make sense of it all. With effort she pulled herself out, her glowing eyes looking up.

The chuckling demon towered over her, blood dripping from his claws. “Too late. We win.”

Comfort’s eyes went wide as the thing’s sword struck through her body, easily a foot wide, pinning her to the wall. She gasped, her head drooping, body collapsing to the floor. “Time to finish dying, little forsaken.” His sword came down…

Not now. Comfort blinked, a voice like bells filling her mind. Awaken.

The sword stopped dead, pressed against the golden shield that suddenly surrounded the forsaken girl. Her head snapped up, her eyes glaring, pulsing as wings of light unfolded from her back.

“Not now.” She said, her voice clear, focused. She held up her hands and a column of holy fire descended upon the demon, consuming him. With a claw like swipe of her hand a ray of light sliced into what was left.

She stood there in the momentary quiet. She looked over the forms of the fallen horde. Everything was clear. Everything made sense. She raised her hand looking at it. “I feel… normal.” The thought was pure, simple. It began and finished. She looked up, the shield falling away from her. “What happened?”

There was nothing to answer the question. Comfort looked around, and then focused her mind. With clear and sane thought she knelt over the fallen orc, a glow rising as she prayed for the life to return to his body.
Dispaya wandered through her ransacked sanctum and looked over the wreckage. The tables were smashed and bits of glass and wood littered the floor. She made her way to her private chamber and there on the floor she spied a broken frame with the picture of her human father still intact. Carefully she knelt and picked it up, and then with great care gently wiped away the dirt.

She heard a soft "squeak" from behind one of her now empty trunks. Dispaya focused and with a wave of her hand the trunk slid aside to reveal a small white rat still cowering in the corner behind it. The mage walked over and slowly knelt down, holding our her hand for the rat to sniff.

Whiskers took a sniff and then gingerly jumped into her hand. Dispaya kissed his head and gently nuzzled her little friend.

"I am glad to see you were smart enough to stay out of sight...now you are coming with me. Cadavera will begin cleaning up this place. Perhaps we shall return to it again some day soon, but for now there is a war to fight."
Sing True Ironsong!
Wrath Gate:

Goldberry stood atop the rise where she and other marksmen had been assigned. From their vantage point, the tauren could see the battle raging below. Behind her , guarding the approach to the rise, crouched Whitemist, the snowy lion who was her constant friend, companion, and today, guardian. Shot after shot boomed out from Goldberry's large-bore rifle. From this rise, she saw the betrayal and treachery. From this rise, she could do nothing to stop it.


Upon following the mass of warriors into Undercity, Goldberry's first thought was to get to point of high ground, from which she could best put her skill with firearms to deadly use. As the battle spread, such places became fewer and fewer, until at last she was forced to drop the gun and draw her paired daggers. With Whitemist at her side, she fought for her life. Time slowed and became nothing more than one thrust and dagger slash at time. When her last foe had fallen, she finally looked around and took stock of the situation. A few isolated battles still raged here and there, the bodies of the dead and dying filled the halls, and the loyal Whitemist was nowhere to be seen.

The tribe had already begun slowly moving from the ruined city when Kardwel encountered the distraught tauren, who was still calling unsuccessfully for the lion. At his urging, she reluctantly followed the rest of the tribe. On their way out of the devastated city, they found Anca trapped beneath the body of a Scourge monstrosity. Pulling the girl from the rubble, the carried her out of the city.

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