(RP EVENT) ASSAULT ON NAXXRAMAS (Part 1)

[Guest]

Senthris listend to Lady Blazecaller intently, jotting down notes as she spoke."This is very interesting milady, your very astute this could very well be a trap. My findings seem to coincide with yours however, while we must reamin on guard, I believe this is our best bet to find the Warlord. I will let the tribe know tomorrow at the moot." Senthris bade farewell to Lady Blazecaller and looked down at his notes." Well, it would seem we found their weakness."

[Dispaya]

A few days ago...

Weary...tired...pain...exhaustion....how long since he had slept...how long since he had eaten? The pleasures of the world were now only a memory for Sreng. The troll hung from manacles in a quiet and dark place.

A shadowy form stood before the once great Troll and leader of the Ironsong Tribe. He slowly tapped the end of a staff on the floor to get Sreng's attention.

>tap...tap...tap<

The Troll's eyes fluttered open but he could barely see the thing that stood before him.

"We are going to talk again now Warlord. Will you give me the answers I seek?"

Sreng eyed him disdainfully. "Go ta the nine hells..."

The thing snickered. "I have already been there. It is quite a lovely place. You will be seeing it soon enough. Now then...tell me of your... Horde."

Sreng smiled. He would not talk. He was hurt...but had not given up as of yet. He remained silent and only a faint smile cracked his lips.

"Ya know mon...we trolls heal well...no matta what ya do ta me I won't be talkin. Break my fingas like ya done...dey will heal...break me ribs like ya done...dey gon heal. Soon I be betta den eva."

"Oh my poor dear Troll. Don't you know that is what we want. The longer you last the more fun we can have with you. Anthora...come!"

The Troll girl stepped up beside the creature with her head hung low.

"Aye Masta"

"Now my dear Warlord...you know there are things that even a Troll cannot...regenerate from."

It walked to the nearby fire and took a red hot poker from the burning coals there. Sreng eyed the thing with malice.

A moment later his mind went dull and hazy...as if he were immersed in a deep and thick fog. He could smell burning flesh and only then realized it was his own.

"Heal!" The creature ordered.

The Troll girl complied and cast a healing spell over Sreng. It soothed the pain but only a little.

"Wake wake..." it taunted him. "Don't leave before the party is over..."

The creature then repeated the process again....and again.

Sreng did not scream until the fifth time.

[Dispaya]

It was a short time later that a small company of Ironsongers rode hastily into the Light's Hope camp in the Plaguelands. Among them stood the Lady Dispaya, adopted daughter of the Warlord. Her mage portal magic enabled the group to arrive in the small village less than 24 hours after word was received of information about their leader. Alongside stood Cloudjumper, Druid and advisor to the great tribe, and with them Krell the hunter, Veramorla the warrior, and Uglawha the blooded. YOU are there as well.

Cloud spoke briefly with the Argent leaders and together the small group was taken to the basement infirmary of the Chapel. There they were surrounded by those Dawn agents who had been injured in battle with the Scourge. They lay on a series of cots that lined the large basement...healing from all manor of foul wounds and rots. Nurses of various races tended to them as they scurried back and forth on their nurse errands. In the corner of the room lay a blue troll girl. It was to her that the group was directed.


***

Anthora awoke to see a group of warriors surrounding her bed the likes of which she had never seen before. A tauren male and female...2 orcs..and one...scourge?


Upon seeing Dispaya the girl recoiled in fear and began to scream. Nurses rushed to her side.

"The girl is...upsetting her..."

Dispaya nodded wisely.

"Cloud...I shall wait outside." The others nodded.

Once gone the Troll girl started to calm but she still looked fearful and wide eyed at the ones who surrounded her. Cloud knelt beside her bed to make his size less intimidating. Veramorla merely snorted and moved back away from the girls bed. Uglawha looked around and knowing that he was no good at the art of parley, he mumbled that he would wait outside with Dispaya. Krell followed Cloud's example and knelt beside her.

"We..are told that you bring word...of a friend...who are you?"

The Troll girl looked at Cloud and whispered slowly pointing to herself.

"Iyam...An-thora...uv de Northrend tribes....An-thora"

"I am Cloudjumper of Ironsong...and this is my friend Lord Krell. We are pleased to meet you Lady troll."

He smiled and she shyly returned the same.

"You serve...de Scourge?"

Cloud smiled broadly. "If you refer to our friend...she is no Scourge...but one of a tribe of undead who has successfully broken their bondage with the Scourge. She thinks freely now."

"Is dat...possible?" she wondered.

"Aye.,..it is...and more things are possible...you have only to trust us. Had we intended you harm you would know it by now."

She looked them over and considered Krell's words. She was frightened but not foolish.

A moment later she began to unravel her tale.

"My people were peaceful...we lived many years in solace in de north...but the Scourge are now taking over there. They ransack the lands...me tribe is gone crazy now...dey all serve de Scourge."

"And you?"

"I...served...out of fear...not loyalty. Dey took me to der fortress...I tended to 'em...fed 'em from the humans they kept as food...they need ones who can think and reason...so many of de undead lose their wits when they cross over into undeath...so servants are needed. Some of my people joined them willingly...I have seen...so much...death..."

Cloud looked solemly at Krell. The two exchanged a knowing glance. They had both seen the atrocities the Scourge were capable of.

"Tell us how you arrived here" Krell asked...somewhat firmly. He was growing tired of playing nursemaid.

"I was brought here in de great fortress...as a servant. De Scourge...dey are bringin in others...humans...dwarves...Tauren....Trolls...leaders of many of the tribes of Azeroth. Dey are sending agents to capture them."

"We have heard that many tribe leaders have gone missing...no one knows why. This explains much." Cloud proclaimed.

The Troll girl continued her strange story.

"I met one Troll...he was brave an handsome. He was called Sreng. He told me dat he could escape with my help...and he would take me with him. I believed him."

A look of hope appeared on Krell's eyes. "Sreng is alive yet....or is he?"

The girl shuddered.

"I...freed him from his cell. I was allowed to come an go freely...to feed the prisoners. They are to be taken before the Lich King. He will question them and learn all they they know...and then he will turn them into his own servants...generals for his new army."

A look of realization came over Krell's face. "Cloud...with all of the leaders of the the great tribes under his command...the Lich King will be unstoppable. He will know all of our secrets...this cannot come to pass!"

From across the room...Veramorla snorted in disdain. "This is dark news..." she muttered.

"What happened? Did Sreng escape?"

"We was almost out of the great fortress...when we was spotted by a patrol. Together we ran for de portal but dere were so many of 'em. De last thing I saw was Sreng surrounded by undead...dey pounced on him from all sides. His last move was to kick me through the portal. He shouted for me to "Find Ironsong!"

"De next thing I knew I was on the ground...the great fortress was hovering over me...and I ran...I ran...the scourge came and they chased me...but I called on the power of the spirits...and I was faster. I hid...and I ran some more. I was lost in the wilderness for many days before I made my way here."

Cloud stood again with a thoughtful look in his eye. "The Warlord is alive...they will not kill him if the Lich King has proclaimed that he remain alive. All hope is not lost."

Once outside the group relayed the tale to Dispaya and Ug.

"The tribe will hear of this...I am sure they will not forsake Lord Sreng. We must go and retrieve him." Dispaya proclaimed.

Krell looked thoughtful. "The bond between hunter and pet is strong. Perhaps Sreng can call Meathook back from the dead as well when he is safe. This is good news."

As the others grow silent you suddenly realize the scope of the situation.

"Lady Dispaya...perhaps you did not hear correctly...do you know what you are asking? You are saying we are to stage an attack on Naxxramas? The place is an impenetrable fortress!"

"No Fortress is impenetrable...they all have a weakness...and the Argent Dawn knows much more than they are sometimes willing to share. I too serve the Argents and I am considered among their most trusted members. Some time ago they discovered a way in. Getting in is not impossible...but we will need a force strong enough to survive such an attack."

Uglawha started putting it all together.

"So..all we needs do...get bunches of Tribe...break into Naxx place...free Warlord Sreng...den gets back out all in one piece?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Aye...that about sums it up." Dispaya said solemly. "Come...there are preparations to make..."

Uglawha thumbed the blade of his sword. "Oh dis gon get bloody..."

[Dispaya]

OOC:

When the expansion comes around Naxxramas will be moved back to Northrend and will be re-tooled for lvl 80. Many of us have never seen this instance so what I wish to try is putting together a single raid to see the place one time before the expansion hits. This will be a COMBINED RP/RAID event and is part of a storyline created by the officers called "Assault on Naxxramas."

Over the next few weeks several of us will be leading attacks on Stratholme to work on argent faction and to collect orbs. See Robn for details also as he is helping us run this.

Please post here if you are keyed and we will begin putting together an assault team. We can take up to 40 members. If we (somehow) get over 40 we will rotate folks in as best we can.

I have a store of nexus crystals and a few rightous orbs. If you need them for key quests...please send me an IN GAME MAIL and I will reply with supplies. Once they are gone they are gone...first come...first serve.

We will be setting a schedule for the raid soon...but in the meantime...start getting yourself keyed. Work with your tribe. Come join in the RP both on the message boards and in Guild chat.

Lets all go see this instance and have some fun together as a tribe!

-=((D))=-

[Guest]

Garhgal's wrinkled and calloused hands paused pulling thread through the fabric of his torn leggings. His old skills as a tailor, nearly forgotten now, still served to patch the minor tear or hole in his garments. He sat there, unmoving, staring into the failing light of dusk, lost in thought.

The moot at Light's Hope Chapel weighed heavily on his mind. Scattered on the bedding behind him lay small stacks of scourge stones, dusty from long storage, two arcane crystals and a few gold pieces peaking out of a worn leather pouch. A chest had been dragged from its resting place in the corner revealing light patches where the wood had not faded. Bits of old armor, wool sacks, books and scrolls all surrounded the open chest. Memories laid out on display.

The news of Sreng's disappearance had not shocked him. It was sad and upsetting, yes, but Garhgal was an old soldier. Commanders sometimes fall in battle and it was a soldier's duty to carry on. Garhgal was not a leader: he was not smart or clever. He knew how to follow orders. So he let the others of the tribe carry out their investigations and waited for the inevitable to come; either a call to arms or a call to mourn.

The moot was a call to arms.

Sitting there frozen in the act of sewing up a hole in his britches, Garhgal realized with some shame he'd gone to the moot almost hoping it was to mourn his fallen leader. He did not know Sreng very well but it was not out of any animosity. He respected Sreng and most of the tribe had very strong feelings of affection towards him. But it would have been the easy path. He would be sad, he would pay his respects, and then he would have returned to his comfortable, if solitary, life.

But now he must fight.

Garhgal started, admonishing himself for losing track of time. He quickly finished stitching up his pants and draped them over the back of the chair atop the netherweave tunic. Using a taper he lit two lamps in the room to ward off the creeping darkness. "Chasing away the shadows," he said to himself.

He began placing items back into the chest with a reverent touch. Each one held some special memory for him, but it was an almost unconscious act. His thoughts drifted back to war.

"Three wars I've seen. Three wars I've survived. A simple peon in the mines when we first stepped into this world and fought the humans. A simple blacksmith during the Second War. A simple slave after the Dark Portal was closed. A simple grunt during the Last War." Garhgal carefully refolded a tattered square of red cloth and placed it in the chest.

"Simple. Keep your head down. Follow orders. Don't make friends. Simple." It had kept him alive this long but now things had changed and weren't simple anymore. After the Last War it was supposed to be different. The Warchief had found them a new home. They had conquered the blood curse. He'd made friends, started studying with the warlocks at Orgrimmar and joined the Ironsong Tribe.

This new life was hard for him. Opening up, making friends, asking for help; it was strange and uncomfortable. He'd been born on Draenor under the reign of Gul'dan and all he'd ever known was how to struggle and stay alive. Friends didn't last long. Asking for help showed weakness and would get you killed.

Garhgal latched the chest and replaced the old lock. He gave a quiet groan as his knees protested the rise from the floor and he turned to the remaining items laid out around the room. He gathered up the scourge stones, the arcane crystals and gold and carefully packed them into a netherweave bag. He had a fleeting thought, and not the first, of how wonderful this new cloth must be to work. His eyes roamed over the armor draped over the chair, the staff propped up in the corner and the other bags, packed and stacked by the door. Everything seemed to be ready.

Snuffing the lamps plunged the room into darkness. The glowing coals in the fire pit shifted and a few sparks drifted upwards. An imp, barely visible even to Garhgal's trained eyes, rested on the coals and would guard him while he slept. Well, it would at least alert him if danger approached. Maybe.

He kept picking over the events at the moot, and tonight's sudden reflection of his past. Something was still there to be resolved. He lay down on the bedding as his mind raced faster and faster, closing in on some revelation. He thought, "The investigators revealed Sreng was most likely still alive and held in Nax. Life was simpler as a soldier, follow orders, don't stick your neck out. Ironsong would assault Nax and rescue Sreng. Maybe a new war was beginning. The Lich King was talked about more and more these days. I should attend more moots, spend more time with the tribe. We're going to Nax ..."

His eyes widened as the nugget he'd been panning for revealed itself. There were no orders to assault Nax. In fact he didn't remember anyone actually asking him to go to Nax. Dispaya simply said, "I'm going to get Sreng," and there it was. He'd ridden home, dug out what he would need to convince the Argent Dawn of his worthiness and made preparations to join the assault.

Maybe things really were simple now. No orders were necessary. A friend was in need and you simply acted.

The imp shifted on its bed of coals and sparks rose up towards the vent in the ceiling. Garhgal's eyes closed as his mind finally calmed and he drifted off to sleep.

[Guest]

... snip

Uglawha thumbed the blade of his sword. "Oh dis gon get bloody..."

OOC (( just had to say I like this line. I could see Dispaya walking away and Uglawha whispering this. ))

[Uglawha]

Robn is keyed...not going to worry about keying Uglawha

[Eruadan]

((Mokimi is keyed for Naxx....Eruadan is pending materials and cost. Should be keyed for healing))

[Efluvious]

Efluvious slunk through the plaguelands hiding whenever the sound of footfalls was heard. He was called and could not resist. The torturous sessions with Efluvia had weakened his mind greatly and his will to turn away psychic influence was all but gone.

He knew his mission now and yet was even blocked from communicating it to anyone. The Lich King and his minions never fought a fair fight, they always stacked the deck and so would do so again. If Ironsong comes to the citadel Naxxramas, then they come with a betrayer in their midst...

Efluvious greeted his compatriots-in-arms at Light's Hope Chapel with a smile, showing no sign he had wept for hours as he crept through the wasted lands.

((Efluvious is keyed))

[Saezhur]

Rogue's Quarter - Undercity

The whispers were urgent and touched with grief, concern and exasperation. Silence, normally the guiding principle of the quarter, seemed to take backstage to the news, and yet, Saezhur still had to move himself close enough to hear the content of such desperate tidings.

"Have ye heard, Miles?" Gregory Charles, rogue trainer and regular gossip of the rogue's quarter, spoke barely above a whisper.

"Are you daft man. Of course, I've heard. You'd have to be a silly git to have not, considerin' all the blather and whatnot going on. They's a tribe, but not very good about keeping things secret when something this big happens." Miles Dexter, another senior trainer, hardly missed any information when it traveled into Undercity; though Saezhur had to consider his role as a 'git', considering he was hearing news for the first time. "And with no word of a lie, when the mighty leader of the tribe goes missin' it'd be hard for anyone in the horde to not be in the know."

Saezhur recoiled for moment as realization struck him. Tribe. Leader. The news was about Sreng. No horde, especially forsaken, spoke of tribes like the Ironsong. So Sreng had disappeared. Saezhur leaned closer to listen to the conversation.

"From the sounds 'o it, they gettin' ready for some ruckus up at the citadel, ole Naxxramas." Gregory lowered his voice another octave as he mentioned Naxxramas, the mere utterance likely making him believe that he was incanting some dread spell that would whisk him away to that place.

"Fools, the lot of them. Sure as I can't spit, they'll go in all crazed with emotion of somesuch, get the whole lot of 'em killed." Miles pronunciation at the end sounded more closely to a boating term -- keeled -- than what he intended, but such was his way when mocking. "Word is that Dispaya be the one who learned it first, vistin' Sreng and findin' his place a shambles and all. Likely she'll go in with the rest. Prolly not a good idea, if she's so close to the matter."

Saezhur agreed with the summation, but knew better than to keep the lady from following through on such an endeavour. Carefully, he extracted himself from the conversation, noting how easily he was able to skirt away from his old teachers, muttering to himself, "Perhaps those who can't really do teach."

Settling near the mailbox, Saezhur began a message and then crumpled it and started again. He would offer his assistance and his blades. He owed Dispaya that much and likely more.

(( Saezhur is attuned and interested in coming along if you'll have me. ))

[Dispaya]

How long had he been here? Was it days? Weeks? Months? Time had begun to lose all meaning for him. Sreng's ribs were broken, as were his fingers...and his tusks. By tomorrow they would heal...and the pain would start all over. He had learned to hate his own natural healing ability...the dark thing was using it against him now.

>tap-tap-tap<

He cringed at the sound of the tapping. The pain would start soon again now. He would not talk...he would not tell...he would not betray his War Chief...Thr...what was his name now? Sreng could not remember...and why not betray? What harm could telling a few things matter...it might make the pain stop...it might make them wait...but no...NO...refocus...think...they would never stop no matter what he said...no matter...he would never betray his tribe...or his Warchief...Thrall...that was his name...Thrall trusted him...Thrall made him one of the great Horde leaders...he was Warlord of Iron...something...Iron...

>tap-tap-tap,

"Wakey wakey little troll." Heigan stared into Sreng's bloodshot eyes. "Still in there...little father?"

Sreng srirred...who had called him that? Someone dear...

Heigan stretched a bony hand forth. Sreng recoiled out of reflex, then composed himself and stared back.

"I have a guest...someone wishes to speak to you."

He squinted...a girl stepped forward. She was beautiful...and familiar...somehow...

"Sinu amanore' Lord Sreng" Her voice was sweet. He recognized her.

"Beth?"

"Oh...you remember me...I am so honored Warlord." She made a slight bow.

The girl was a Blood Elf...Bellethiel...of Silvermoon...a priestess...one he had known there...she was an...

"Am...ambassador..." he uttered. "Wha...what are ya doin here?"

He remembered her from when he was sent to Silvermoon as an Ambassador of Thrall...her green eyes...so lovely...but something was wrong ...they were no longer green...but yellow...and her brown skin once touched by the sun...was now pale and white. She glided lithely forward and placed a hand on his cheek. Her touch was cold.

"Oh...dey...turned ya..."

"Oh...well thats such a sad way to put it dear Sreng." She pouted. "I fought the Scourge for so many years...had I only known the freedom they would give me. You just cannot know how great the power is..."

"Ya re...dead...ya are no longer...da elf I knew..."

"Now don't say that...of course I am...and more." She smiled. "Now I have come to talk reason to you...you must tell them all they wish to know...then the pain will stop...I will see to that."

Sreng smiled again. "I'm nat talkin'...ta you or nobody..."

"Oh dear...but if you did...there are warmer places than here..." She caressed him. "Warm fires...and food...ale..."

He licked his dry lips at the thought...how long since he had eaten...drank...how long?

"Ambassador..." He wanted to plead with her...but he couldn't...he wouldn't...

"How is my lovely daughter faring these days?"

Bellethiel's daughter...had been sent to his tribe...what was her name...

"How is dear Faeriel?"

Faeriel...that was it...Sreng remembered...

"Ya leave her alone...she no longa yours..."

"But of course she is my only daughter. Maybe you will bring her to me...for a visit? A reunion!""

"Neva...bah!"

"Oh but she is such a darling girl...so sweet...so innocent...I miss her so!"

"Why...are you here...?

"I have come only to talk...to share stories with an old dear friend. Shall I tell you a secret? I know...I shall tell you a secret and then you can tell me one...that is fair!"

Sreng listened. His hands hurt. His ribs were beginning to mend. They cracked in his chest. He silently cursed his own ability to heal. The shade that was once Bellethiel spoke softly... she moved in closer so her red lips were barely brushing against Sreng's neck.

"I told them where to find you." She kissed his neck. "I told them when you would be alone...and I warned them about your Raptor and how viscious he could be. I told them all that so we could be together again...and I told them more...things about Orgrammar...secret ways into the city..."

For the first time since his capture, Sreng began to feel helpless.

"...oh I told them so many things...really...I could not stand even a tad of what you have withstood here...and you see...they rewarded me for that. They have given me such a wonderful gift...to be immortal...to be free. They can do the same for you if only you would let them. Now there...isn't that a wonderful story!" She kissed his neck again.

"Aye...well...dat quite a story..." Sreng whispered. "Why didn't dey jus turn ya...or me for dat matta...why all dis...?

"Oh silly troll...I don't remember now all I did when I was living...if they turn you...you may forget details...besides...these little exercises will make you so much more willing to serve...you are so strong willed...as was I once...but I am now free of all that...you will see...you will have your chance soon!"

Sreng stared straight ahead. He had to focus...she was doing something to his mind...he felt her crawling around in his head...focus...focus...

"Wasn't that a lovely secret? Now you will share something with me...won't you? I know you want to be free of these chains. Free of the pain? Tell us what we wish to know and you will be free...it is so simple. what are Orgrammars defenses...where does Thrall spend his time? Where is he most vulnerable? You can share with me...after all..we are old friends..."

Friends? Friends...he needed a friend here...and she was so lovely. What could it hurt to tell. What harm could it do? They could leave together...there would be food...and wine...and warmth. They could never hurt Thrall anyway...right?

"Well...I tell ya...bout Thrall..."

"oh...yes Sreng dear...I am listening." She whispered in his ear. Her lips were so close...so close...

"Thrall..."

"I am listening..."

"Thrall..."

"yes?"

"...one day he gonna kill ya Scourge ass."

Bellethiel's eyes narrowed. She turned to Heigan in disgust.

"The piece of troll meat will not talk yet. Do what you must to break him."

Without another word she turned and floated away. Heigan bowed his head in respect then turned back to the troll hanging before him.

"Now then Warlord...I suppose we will have another session. It is after all...your choice."

>tap-tap-tap<

Sreng thought of Bellethiel...how beautiful she once was...the Ambassador to Orgrammar...they had many dinners together and so many laughs...and she had sent her daughter to...to...? To where? Faeriel had been sent to...Iron...SONG...that was his tribe...Ironsong...he remembered...he remembered. Sreng began to chuckle.

"You will tell us...all you know..."

Sreng began to laugh.

His fingers were re-broken again...and still Sreng laughed.

"Tell us!"

His ribs then broke again...one by one...and he laughed and laughed until his laughter broke into hysteria." Sreng laughed so hard his eyes watered and the pain from his chest exploded more with each breath...and still he laughed...

"Why do you laugh troll? Why?" Heigan demanded to know!!

"Because..." Sreng cackled. "

"WHY?"

"Because ya don't know what's comin for ya."


END of PART 1

*Please post ongoing story threads starting now
under the part 2 thread*

[Dispaya]

OOC
The Naxx raid/RP event is being set for Feb 22 at 6 ST
That is one week from Today. Get your keys....see you there!

-=((D))=-