The Scourge Cometh. (Open RP)

[Ebberk]

My own little reserved corner, to be added to when Damoxian and Dispaya fill in theirs.

[Ronx]

((sorry Eb, but people are moving on to quickly now..))

Key'athe saw a village burning at the base of the hill. The village went up in cinders and collapsed to ashes, and so did so many lives he was accustomed to, and so did the few lives he valued, all snuffed out with horrible screams of pain and death. The fire burned with rage at the ones who desecrated his village's ancestral grounds, estalished by the blood and tears of the Grimtotem Shamans nearly six generations ago. Key'athe wanted to scream in rage, and to cry and wallow in his despair. As rage and sorrow coursed headlong though his being, he saw sails coming toward him, and figures silhouetted against the flames, blades drawn and approaching him, hate flashing wildly in their eyes. Kay'athe reached for hs mace and axe, unafraid, but felt nothing, only a wooden sword and shield. He examanied his weapons and recognized them as the weapons his grandfather taught him with. Key'athe wasn't the great warrior he once was, but a child again. He dropped the useless training gear, and faced his enemies. Their swords glimmered with a bright silver from the fire that they had caused. He had grown up once hating all humans for the actions of these ones, and in one fateful, and revelationous night, he changed his wrathful viewpoint forever, and now through bitter irony he would be executed for it by the same ones who caused his hatred. The violators were about to descend upon him, and he didn't hide or run, he didn't close his eyes and await his fate, he didn't smile in the face of death, he stood there, confrontingly and unblinkingly, patiently waited for death.

In the instant he felt life nearing its end, he reflected what little he could in the few moments he had, and it was surprisingly much. His only regrets was remaining silent, and cold like the fields of Winterspring at night. The night that would change his life was the night the Tribe held a moot on the pirate ship South of Ratchet, when Demonrose was falling to the Scourge, and attacked Wingspirit, who was under Veramorla's care. The Pirates' presence was all the more infuriating as they were one of two possible sea-faring factions of humans that changed Key'athe's life. He barely restrained himself from rampaging through the beachhead, killing mot things in his way to Theramore Isle, where he would have more than likely have met his end at the hands of Alliance forces. Valtrinity lost her father, a not-so-different loss, and gave Key'athe a figurative smack in the face, and told him to seek justice instead of revenge. Demonrose was confronted and defeated in Tanaris not very long afterwards, and she regained somewhat reasonable control back over herself. She told Key'athe about how the "voices" drew her to the scourge and offered her the life of her previous husband who betrayed her and had her executed in life, for no apparent reason. Key'athe offered her his assistance in revenge, but she declined and said she just wanted justice. Ronx faced his own demons that night and learned to seek justice.

Key'athe's regrets were not thanking Valtrinity and Demonrose for opening his eyes that night, or thanking Eveline or Dispaya, together they were the heart of the Ironsong tribe, for being there for him. He regretted not being able to say goodbye to his friends, Krell, Kretol, Dannae, Vanea, Valtrinity, Veramorla, Draxan, Raxxar, Demonrose, Deathrose, Noram, Wingspirit, especially Wing, who had a special place in Key'athe's heart. He regretted not thanking Veramorla for being a pillar of strength he could look to and take hope from.

As the silhouettes neared him, the sails in the sea behind them grew to unnatural proportions almost instantly, and a fieldof white engulfed the horizons in a few moments. The dark figured warped, and their glimmering sword changed into stained and filthy prong-shaped instruments. The figures with shining swords were now a hunched, miserable figures with stained, dirty teeth, treading on white ground. Key'athe instinctively reached for his mace and axe as the ghoul lunged at him, and the wraith fell as his crushed upper skull was severed from its body. He saw that he was no longer a child again, but a full fledged warrior fighting in Winterspring again. He felled the next two attackers. Then an overwhelming blackness came over him. The surroundings were engulfed in shadow, a suffocating blackness was coming dow upon him, he tried to attack, but nothing. He started to panic with unnatural fear, and tried to fight out of the shadows, and tried to escape.
~
Key'athe awoke, then he remembered he wasn't quite Key'athe, but Ronx instead at the time. He groggily woke up in the cave, his hands reaching for his weapons, and Haida was giving him a strange looks. The events in the cave passed by hazily as he drowsily just watched time to pass away. He was tired, and he spent the night kicking about in his poor sleep. Only until Dispaya blew the way through the rest of the tunnel did Ronx jump to full-awareness, if only for a minute.

The events passed by un a drousy haze, until they were surrounded by an army of the Scourge. Ronx hefted one of his slightly numerous weapons to his shoulder, his axe, which was taken from the dead fingers of a Dark Iron commander. He taken in the appraoching commander, a mounted Deathknight, wearing a black stag carcass as a cape and cowl, apporached, following his army. He dismounted, and Ronx felt the evil presence of the dark entity before him. Ronx hated him as the biting smell of rotting undeath and darkness swirled about the air, drowning out any other smell other than the scent of death and decay hanging in the air. The deathknight did something, Ronx felt it. He then realized, as the knight pointed at Dispaya and Ebberk, were unmoving this whole time. Ronx didn't move at the threat of being attacked, and waited for the time to move. Meanwhile yells and clashing of blades in the distance indicated the battle has already begun. Haida took his grimoire, and cast a spell. Ronx didn't have time to pay attention to what it did, he had to keep focus on the army if his quickly formulated plan was to work.

Ronx jumped into the fray, and swung about his great axe as if he were mad. He focused his mind, and swung his axe, putting his rage into each swing. His eyes glowed a faint read, his body empowered, and unconcerned about the inconvenience of death, he focused on his one single thought as it strengthened hias body as he swiftly cut down ghoul one by one. "Protect the others...save the others...protect the tribe..." When each one ghoul around him, and the enemy force in the immediate area was thin enough, Ronx took in the knight, who was turned away from him, shouting orders to his menials. He bored into the knight with his gaze, evil in his eye. Ronx rememberd an old proverb his grandfather taught him as he threw his plan into motion.

"Key'athe, when facing an enemy, an army or an individual, whenever possible you will fall the head and the heart first, and the body will follow."

Ronx charged the Deathknight, hoping to remove the the Scourge's command from this part of the battle. He planted his axe into the ground when only mere feet away from the knight, and used it as leverage as Ronx jumped kicked the horse, plowing it and its rider to the ground. The knight recovered with ease, and got away from his flailing steed. He glared at Ronx, hate burning in his eyes like a raging fire. Ronx swung his axe , and almost each time, the knight dodged. On what would become his last swing of the axe, ronx swung, and the Deathknight ducked, and blasted Ronx's exposed side with searing dark energy when the swing fell through. Ronx howled in pain and halted his attack as he held his side, thanking the Earthmother his breastplate saved his life. The knight drew his sword, and smiled as he gazed at his own ugly reflection. The blade was cracked and pitted, but gleamed and reflected the surroundings perfectly, as though the blade has seen poor care and rough usage through the knights undeath, but was still shined and polished through the dozens of battles, and hundreds of deaths it had seen. Ronx's resolve was untouched, and dropped the axe to the ground, and drew his mace, and hand axe. Ronx pitted himself again the Deathknight. Swing for swing, Ronx fared much better than using his hand axe, but still not better than the knight. As the fighting went on, the knight was being injured and wounded moderately by his mace and axe, but the knight wounded Ronx severely. The knight knew if the fight went the way it was going, he would be severely injured by the time Ronx fell. He jumped back when Ronx parried his sword with both weapons, and pushed the knight back. He swirled his hands and started wo whisper an incantation, and a ball of shadow formed, and waitedcfor the knight to attack with it. Ronx was no coward, but he was no fool, he had to run away, die without truly helping the fight overall. Ronx turned tail and ran, and jumped over the crest of a small ridge. A small explosion of swilring shadow energies, and the Deathknights grisly voice following the attack, yelling "Coward!"

Ronx didn't care that he retreated, but he regretted not being stronger and being able to kill the knight. Ronx lamented his failure while he removed his breastplate, and checked his backpack. Three bandages left from his supply. He swore to himself, and wondered if the others could have killed him. Rox smiled lightly and took comfort at the fact the knight was wounded and injured at least a moderate bit. He Ronx bandaged laid back to eat a dried Bolete. A feeling like fire went up through his back. Ronx yelled and bolteds upright. His shape rendered it almost useless, but he tried to look at his back, and all he was able to see was a burn at where the Deathknight blasted him before. Ronx looked at his breatplate, and it was scored inside and out, though it was not penetrated. Ronx grimaced, and bandaaged the burn as well as he was able. He ate his bolete, and returned to the battle.

Ronx surveyed the battle and saw there the battle was interspersed through the Winterspring wilds, and from what he could see the Scourge was outnumbering the ones fighting them, probably by 3:2. Ronx frowned, and knew that wasn't very good odds, especially with the dead rising to the enemies' side. Ronx caught a glimpse of what looked like Haida, he strained himself as he cut a bloody swath through the undead. He kept moving toward the Druid, and stopped when he had to catch his breath. Then a shadow loomed over Ronx. He turned around and saw the creature. A gigantic creature, clutching weapons in all three weapons in a death clutch, probably left over from resurection. It was composed of gruesomely bloated body parts stapled and sewn together, and the tear jerking stench of innards rotting away filled the air openly as the source hung out its girth. An improvised heinousness, and a crafted mockery of life. Every movement of its unnatural existence was an insult to the Earthmother. The...thing confronted Ronx, and though his body burned and strained, he prepared to destroy what was fittingly best described by its name, an Abomination.

[Damoxian]

my post is complete, just wanted to give this the new post tag so all the players take a look at it again.

Congradulations on becoming the most read rp post on the boards, we've had some fantastic writing come out of this collabrative effort.

Bravo everyone.

[Guest]

Meanwhile…

A black silhouette passed through the ranks of the second wave of Scourge, flitting between the assembled ghouls and abominations. So infinitely dark was its being that the very shadows themselves bowed at its passing as though drawn into the nexus of negative energy that made up the entity.

It was a hunched and wretched creature that hobbled painfully forward on unseen legs. Its form was indistinguishable, hidden beneath several layers of tattered black cloth that waved about in the icy wind. Craning its low slung head back, its nose to the wind, it scented something and for a moment it seemed as though the wind wiping about its head would throw back the hood that obscured its face.

“Smell … shadow …â€

[Dispaya]

Dispaya threw another spell and the ball of fire whirled from her outstretched fingers to fell another of the Scourge attackers. Her power was beginning to weaken, and there were so many. She looked around at the small army now gathering to surround them. More came from the nearby hills and woods, and still the Scourge General called for more.

She caught sight of the demoness that served Damoxian, and heard her spit curses as she cracked her whip at her attackers. Damoxian cursed and sent another bolt of shadow that tore through an oncoming skeleton. He turned and began whipping his staff to and fro, each powerful blow taking down another of his enemies.

"This is your finest day great Orc" Dispaya thought to herself. at least you will die with honor."

A few yards away, Ronx and Haida stood back to back each barely holding back the minions who threatened to surround them. They took turns slashing and clawing at their attackers but the scourge continued to close in.

She had lost sight of Ebberk...he was now nowhere to be seen. Dispaya searched her mind for him, but she could not sense him near either. She feared her friend had been overtaken and destroyed...or perhaps captured.

A sudden pain erupted in her shoulder as something struck her from the side and she turned to face a powerful ghoul soldier that had come up on her from behind. Her arm stung where the creature tore at her, and she felt the sudden onset of sickness overtaking her. She dropped to one knee as the creature pressed its attack.

Suddenly it stopped.

It reached up to grab its misbegotten head just before its eyes erupted from their sockets and its head finally exploded sending bits of debris and grey matter in every direction. Where it collapsed she could see only shadow...and the dark form of a friend she had not seen in a long time.

"Fluvie!"

"To your feet sister...there is still much death to deal today! she hissed. "Do not fear...for I have summoned the others."

Dispaya took a longing glance over Fluvie's shoulder and watched as a great red raptor strode from the nearby treelines. Beside it walked another larger raptor, and mounted on it sat the great Warlord Sreng of the Ironsong tribe. He drew a silver gun from a holster on his back and called to the others.

"Ironsong! Come forth!"

Beside him they came...

Kosath the great blademaster emerged first to stand beside the Warlord. He raised his arms in command as the rest of the tribe followed. Shillatae the white priestess and Eveline the dark walked forth from the shadows, followed by Krell the hunter, Daichallar, Kretol, Akora the Shaman, Valtrinity, Veramorla, Chaska, and finally Fleethoof.

In unison they began chanting as spells began to enhance their tribemates...and more came still...

Merrina stepped forth and spun her twin axes in her hands preparing for battle. She was quickly followed by Saltin...Kernasas...Umu...Uglawha...and so many others Dispaya began to lose count.

Dispaya felt a new wave of resolve close over her. She chanted a fresh spell and threw another ball of fire at the scourge now closest to her friend Ronx. The creature exploded in a blast of fire and disintegrated. Ronx turned to gave her a nod of thanks, and Dispaya called out to him.

"The others are here! Spread the word!"

Ronx turned to Haida who had just finished slaying another skeleton.

"Keep fighting...they are here! They are here!"

"For Ironsong!" The warlord shouted as he spurred his raptor into the rushing scourge army.

"Sing True!" came the famous battle cry from Shillatae,

...and Ironsong went to work.

Sreng reached the lines first and leaped from his raptor...in mid air shape shifting into a fierce were-tiger. He landed in the thick of attackers and began rending them limb from bloody limb.

Ronx turned and shouted another battle cry as the ranks of scourge turned away from the small band in order to repel the new invaders, just as Kosath lowered his horns and crashed into the first wave of attackers sending Scourge bodies flying in every direction. He drew his great blade and effortlessly cut down a passing skeleton, and then began shouting orders to the others.

"Tae...shackle the left one there! Everyone follow Evelines attack orders! Watch your backs!"

Eveline kept her position on the hill, as Veramorla and Valtrinity acted as her bodyguards. She summoned a great demon to guard their rear and then began calling out orders to the tribe. A random ghoul turned and charged the trio and was just as quickly cut down by Veramorla's blade.

"Hrmph..pathetic" she grumbled.

Daichallar threw his great polearm at the first attacker to come at him. It knocked the creature from it's feet where it landed on it's back in the snow. The Orc leaped on top of it and burried his honor blade in the creatures throat ending its undead existence forever. He then plucked his spear from the carcass and turned to face another...and another...

Krell followed suit as his claws flashed and sliced down anything that got in his way. His cat-pet Dawn stayed at his side, helping to guard his flank and keep him safe as the two went about the business of destroying everything in their wake.

Just as the Scourge engaged Ironsongs front line, Rawne and a contingent of rogues, among them the Champion called Lucinther, attacked from the rear. Lucinther performed a dive roll and deposited twin blades into the belly of an oncoming ghoul. With a smile he next pulled them to each side and in one motion the creature was severed in two at the waist. Drakyth and Lucrenda also emerged, each taking out their rerspective targets in a business-like manner.

Together the rogues wrested the stragglers free from the small party composed of Dispaya, Ronx, and Haida who were now severly injured and barely able to stand. The only one who was not in need of rescue was Damoxian, who continued to swipe and tear at the flesh of his enemies with staff and spell. He cut down a final attacker then turned and took notice of the rogues.

"About time you showed up corpse!" Damoxian barked at Rawne. "I thought perhaps you were taking the day off!"

"Any day spent away from you is a holiday!" Rawne laughed...as his blade cut down yet another attacker. He then turned to help Dispaya back to her feet.

"Thats a nasty wound ya got there little miss..."

"No more..." the spell from Dannae easily repaired the damage done to the mage's shoulder. The priestess came forward and touched Dispaya's arm. "Dere..now ya be feeling betta."

Dispaya nodded a word of thanks to her friend.

The Scourge General screamed in outrage. He ordered his troops to and fro and at each turn an Ironsinger was there to cut them down. Finally forced to retreat he reared his great skeletal stallion and withdrew a large glowing gem from his belt pouch.

He had one final ace up his sleeve, and he intended to play it...

[Sreng]

((Too much fun, guys! Keep it up!))