The Ironsong Tribe

Full Version: Storming the Citadel: Lucinther's story
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The usual smirk was spread across the undead rogue's face. He had been asked to fight with the core group of soldiers striking against Arthas. Undoubtedly, most of Ironsong would be with that core group. The Argent Crusade official, who was beginning to grow a bit agitated by the smirk, stood, waiting as patiently as he could, for Lucinther's reply to the request. Lucinther shook his head, still smirking. He respectfully declined.

Lucinther walked past him. He would take his place at the rear of the formations watching for the inevitable attack. After all, who better to watch the backs of the soldiers than a rogue? He mounted his own drake and flew to the formation grounds where the troops had already began to rally.

He landed, still smirking. Most of the units were already in formation. Formation, such a ridiculous tradition, he thought. All it would take to devastate the invasion force was one well placed explosion.... with everyone lined up so neatly in 4 rows, spaced evenly, all close together.... even a skilled hunter could take out at least 3 soldiers with a well placed arrow. one arrow. Yet, no enemy has made this realization yet.... He shook his head.

He lackadaisically strolled over to the battalion of soldiers that would be guarding the rear flank of the invasion force. He joined his unit as un-stealthily as possible. The sergeant in charge of the formation noticed and immediately made his way to Lucinther, who still stood, smirking.

" just what do you think you are doing soldier?!"
" It would appear that I'm standing in formation."
" It would appear that you are late. I can't believe they let such undisciplined soldiers in this unit to defend the lives of others. I ought to kill you myself so we don't have to worry about you taking your time on striking down the enemy."
Lucinther laughed, " Is that so?"
The sergeant drew back to strike. Before he had a chance to complete the act, Lucinther already had a dagger at his throat. " If I were you, sergeant. I would worry more about staying out of my way than trying to scare me with your hollow threats." He let the dagger drop to his side, still smirking.
The sergeant, slightly unnerved, moved back to the front of the formation without another word. Once there, he began to ramble on with some sort of motivational speech. Lucinther wasn't quite sure what he was saying, he wasn't listening. He didn't care. His mind was on the fight now.

A horn sounded. It was time to move. With one final smirk from Lucinther, the formation marched off. It was time. Things were about to get stabbed.