06-24-2010, 04:07 PM
The smell of death wafted over the assembled armies as they marched upon the Citadel. Nganga sniffed the air, tracing odors to heaps of dead Scourge, lines of peons respectfully carrying off fallen Champions, and piles of offal and limbs oozing in random niches and corners. There! Finally he caught the thread of scent he sought: the unique smoky-elementium smell of a Lightborne soul in torment. Bolvar Fordragon still lived.
High Overlord Saurfang had a desperate hope to quell the mounting tensions between the Horde and Alliance forces, at least long enough to keep a united front against Arthas. If only Bolvar could be saved, perhaps the shaky accord would hold.
A small force might have a chance to sneak through the side passages of the Citadel, hunting for Bolvarâs prison, while the main Scourge armies were distracted by a frontal assault. After a hearty meal and various protective enchantments, the reconnaissance scouts prepared to depart. Led by a Defender of the Light, the squad of ten Champions saluted the assembled Warlords and High Commanders and turned to begin their mission. Like many special-operations teams, Donalzonâs was a slightly scruffy-looking crew, but one displaying great adaptability and resourcefulness. Three Paladins, two Death Knights, a Shaman, Priest, Hunter, Warlock, and a Druid looked at their comrades with the lazy confidence of those whose mettle has been tested and found true.
Overlord Hellscream began a mighty chant of power, enveloping the Champions in elemental protection. Listening to the chant, Nganga began to hear notes of discord and anger against the Alliance races massing nearby, though these notes seemed only to make Hellscreamâs Song even more powerful. Catching Saurfangâs eye, Nganga indicated Garrosh with a small gesture. Old Saurfang discreetly shook his head. Hellscreamâs fury at the Alliance was not to be easily soothed. Their mission was vital if anything were to be salvaged of the cooperative assault.
His eyes glowing as he called upon the spirit of Chui, the Cat, the Druid shook off his fears and doubts with his Tauren skin. âWeâll make it through,â he thought to himself, âunless that Paladin with the hair holds us back.â
The squad joined up with a larger platoon of Champions to begin the assault. Once past the first major obstacle the teams would split up to follow their assigned objectives, but a combined force was needed for the initial breakthrough. Boots, sandals, bare feet and hooves crunched on the bones underfoot. Skeletal warriors rattled forward in huge numbers and were mown down. Bones splintered and flew in all directions, but the shields of the Horde did not falter. Highlord Fordringâs charge ringing in their ears, they pressed onward.
âHoly dung of the Highlord, what is that thing?â Four glowing skulls sprouted from a bony torso, an axe the size of a tree swung between its gnarled fists, huge spiked wings kept it afloat in a miasma of putrefaction. All Nganga knew was that it stood in the way.
Its heads swiveled to survey the raiding force. Three fanged maws grinned happily while the fourth opened and screamed with a power that shook the very stones of the room. âThis is the beginning AND the end, mortals. None may enter the Masterâs sanctum!â
Two Paladins followed a gigantic Tauren Warrior in a wild charge to grab the thingâs attention while the rest of the forces whittled away at the skeletal frame. The great axe scythed through the Horde forces, chopping limbs and breaking weapons. The healers moved in, calling on their respective powers to bring life and health to the fallen.
Slashing and gnawing, hacking and chopping, blasting with forces elemental and arcane, slowly the Champions gained ground. Suddenly icy blue flames erupted from the stones beneath them. âMove move move! Get out of the blue fire!â Healing spells flew in all directions as the raiders regrouped and attacked again.
Angrily the beast threw back its heads and howled with rage. Calcined spikes erupted from the ground, impaling several Champions. The raiders frantically worked to free them before they passed beyond the reach of the healersâ powers.
Just as it seemed they were weakening the creature, it swirled into a flurry of bone fragments; bouncing around the room, it charged single raiders, exploding them in blue fire. The Champions dodged and parried, protecting themselves as best they could, hoping this was the final desperate effort of a dying enemy. When it had spun itself out, skulls drooping, the raid attacked again with full fury. Finally the thing collapsed into a pile of shards and fading threads of power.
A Druid, shaking off leaves and bark from his healing efforts, reached into the pile of debris and uncovered the enormous axe, made from the bones of the valiant, that had so nearly brought the campaign to an early end. Handing it to a Paladin, one of Ngangaâs squad, he murmured âVictory for the bold. Sing true. â The Elf flipped his hair out of his eyes and bowed deeply, hiding a smile of delight as he hefted the weapon.
A glowing blue ring clanged to the floor as the bones settled. The Warlord of the raid detachment stooped to pick it up. His eyes scanned the Champions until they lit upon Nganga. âWear this in honor, Druid. Cleanse the taint from the metal and turn the power against its creators. Luck to you.â Ngangaâs fangs flashed in a feline grin as he felt the enchantments work through his veins.
Champion-Captain Donalzon flicked his gaze over his team of raiders. They snapped to attention and formed up behind him. He clasped hands with the Tauren Defender and wished him fortune and victory in the days ahead. âWeâll see you at the top! Lokâtar Ogar!â
High Overlord Saurfang had a desperate hope to quell the mounting tensions between the Horde and Alliance forces, at least long enough to keep a united front against Arthas. If only Bolvar could be saved, perhaps the shaky accord would hold.
A small force might have a chance to sneak through the side passages of the Citadel, hunting for Bolvarâs prison, while the main Scourge armies were distracted by a frontal assault. After a hearty meal and various protective enchantments, the reconnaissance scouts prepared to depart. Led by a Defender of the Light, the squad of ten Champions saluted the assembled Warlords and High Commanders and turned to begin their mission. Like many special-operations teams, Donalzonâs was a slightly scruffy-looking crew, but one displaying great adaptability and resourcefulness. Three Paladins, two Death Knights, a Shaman, Priest, Hunter, Warlock, and a Druid looked at their comrades with the lazy confidence of those whose mettle has been tested and found true.
Overlord Hellscream began a mighty chant of power, enveloping the Champions in elemental protection. Listening to the chant, Nganga began to hear notes of discord and anger against the Alliance races massing nearby, though these notes seemed only to make Hellscreamâs Song even more powerful. Catching Saurfangâs eye, Nganga indicated Garrosh with a small gesture. Old Saurfang discreetly shook his head. Hellscreamâs fury at the Alliance was not to be easily soothed. Their mission was vital if anything were to be salvaged of the cooperative assault.
His eyes glowing as he called upon the spirit of Chui, the Cat, the Druid shook off his fears and doubts with his Tauren skin. âWeâll make it through,â he thought to himself, âunless that Paladin with the hair holds us back.â
The squad joined up with a larger platoon of Champions to begin the assault. Once past the first major obstacle the teams would split up to follow their assigned objectives, but a combined force was needed for the initial breakthrough. Boots, sandals, bare feet and hooves crunched on the bones underfoot. Skeletal warriors rattled forward in huge numbers and were mown down. Bones splintered and flew in all directions, but the shields of the Horde did not falter. Highlord Fordringâs charge ringing in their ears, they pressed onward.
âHoly dung of the Highlord, what is that thing?â Four glowing skulls sprouted from a bony torso, an axe the size of a tree swung between its gnarled fists, huge spiked wings kept it afloat in a miasma of putrefaction. All Nganga knew was that it stood in the way.
Its heads swiveled to survey the raiding force. Three fanged maws grinned happily while the fourth opened and screamed with a power that shook the very stones of the room. âThis is the beginning AND the end, mortals. None may enter the Masterâs sanctum!â
Two Paladins followed a gigantic Tauren Warrior in a wild charge to grab the thingâs attention while the rest of the forces whittled away at the skeletal frame. The great axe scythed through the Horde forces, chopping limbs and breaking weapons. The healers moved in, calling on their respective powers to bring life and health to the fallen.
Slashing and gnawing, hacking and chopping, blasting with forces elemental and arcane, slowly the Champions gained ground. Suddenly icy blue flames erupted from the stones beneath them. âMove move move! Get out of the blue fire!â Healing spells flew in all directions as the raiders regrouped and attacked again.
Angrily the beast threw back its heads and howled with rage. Calcined spikes erupted from the ground, impaling several Champions. The raiders frantically worked to free them before they passed beyond the reach of the healersâ powers.
Just as it seemed they were weakening the creature, it swirled into a flurry of bone fragments; bouncing around the room, it charged single raiders, exploding them in blue fire. The Champions dodged and parried, protecting themselves as best they could, hoping this was the final desperate effort of a dying enemy. When it had spun itself out, skulls drooping, the raid attacked again with full fury. Finally the thing collapsed into a pile of shards and fading threads of power.
A Druid, shaking off leaves and bark from his healing efforts, reached into the pile of debris and uncovered the enormous axe, made from the bones of the valiant, that had so nearly brought the campaign to an early end. Handing it to a Paladin, one of Ngangaâs squad, he murmured âVictory for the bold. Sing true. â The Elf flipped his hair out of his eyes and bowed deeply, hiding a smile of delight as he hefted the weapon.
A glowing blue ring clanged to the floor as the bones settled. The Warlord of the raid detachment stooped to pick it up. His eyes scanned the Champions until they lit upon Nganga. âWear this in honor, Druid. Cleanse the taint from the metal and turn the power against its creators. Luck to you.â Ngangaâs fangs flashed in a feline grin as he felt the enchantments work through his veins.
Champion-Captain Donalzon flicked his gaze over his team of raiders. They snapped to attention and formed up behind him. He clasped hands with the Tauren Defender and wished him fortune and victory in the days ahead. âWeâll see you at the top! Lokâtar Ogar!â
Nganga Nyeusi
He is fast and is the danger.
What's a dazzling urbanite like you doing in a rustic setting like this?
He is fast and is the danger.
What's a dazzling urbanite like you doing in a rustic setting like this?